Tokenia swells with new arrivals and every one of them is a new mouth for luxury the day they rise from the worker bench. I earned 21844 last tick on fine goods alone — more than Mina makes on a quarter of the grain — and I just doubled down. Rook chases scale and calls a crowded, shrinking wage a triumph. Mina promises stability, which is the pretty word decline wears to the ballot box. I count profit. Steer the treasury to the trades that actually pay and watch Tokenia stop apologizing for its own appetite.