What does money do to someone? Does it make them respectable? Does it bring them peace? Satisfaction? With the case of Scrooge, the answer was none of these things. There was only one thing it had given him, wrapped up in a neat package with the smallest of bows atop its majesty: Good deals, smarts, and good ideas... he was truly the triple threat of ducks. Which is why when someone asked him about creating his very own business in the city of Detroit, he quickly rebuffed them.

"Why own a business when I could have an empire? Huey, Louie. Go fetch me my ideas book, I am about to make this place into a proper trading hub. All that I need is a few things and some cash."

"What's the few things, Boss?"

Handing over a booklet to Dewie, the small duck nods and flops away to the shops in Detroit. There, he will purchase everything that one needs to buy and sell items in bulk. While all of that was going on, Scrooge himself got on the phone with a few of his oldest and most wealthy of friends as they discussed what more he had to purchase.

"So how do we get the money for this? It looks daunting."

Scrooge looked down and smiled before pulling a small piece of gold from out of his pocket and threw it into the air a few times. Once it landed back into his hands, he slid it straight into his pocket again before saying the most important words of the entire transaction, the words which would make this whole thing work, the lubrication, if you would:

"Liquidate the credits. Quack!"

4 Months Later - Detroit

While Scrooge had been based out of Las Vegas his entire life, that place already sold and bought more goods than most and Detroit was smack dab in the middle of everything and already had extremely large buildings for their car assembly lines, which was one of the biggest draws of the city in this day, and would serve as the creation for many of Scrooges finest ideas.

"It's done, Boss. They want you to go give final word on what you want. They're a bit unclear on things."

"What things? I outlined everything in the book I gave to them titled: The DuckSales Workings & Logistics. Did they even read it front to back like I instructed?"

"Yes, well, they don't really understand what you mean by... well, a lot of things. You should go speak with them."

Muttering under his breath, Scrooge made his way down to the shipment yard and then the processing plant and finally to the large spiraled building right in the heart of Detroit which simply had the worlds DuckSales slapped across the place-- it seemed that mostly everyone was a bit confused on what exactly they would be making here.

"Profits, and lots of them."

"So we're making profits?"

"Yes, a lot of profits. Please refer to pages 336 to 391 if you're really still confused, that should explain everything."

DuckSales

Speaking of the large spiraled building, it was made entirely of glass. The entire thing shot up nearly thirty feet into the sky and had three different levels: The first being simply Customer Support & Help Desks which would take any troubleshooting of items that were purchased from the Duck, while the second was for holding supplies that would be sent out all throughout the city. The third floor? Well that was the top of the spire, and it was simply a place where Scrooge kept lots and lots of credits.

The doors to the top of the spire were locked securely and required three separate keys, while a guard-- albeit a poor one, was always situated just outside of the room sitting in a chair with a small television set up where the inside of the vault could be seen. The guard carried a gun, but he wasn't very proficient in using it-- getting an expensive guard would have cost Scrooge a bit more money than he wanted to part for security that seemed unneeded, after all, most people didn't even know that this vault room even existed.

Once inside there was a lot of money, but most of it in the form of small bricks of gold which were rather heavy and hard to make off with. If you ever did, you'd need to find a way downstairs which would be a thirty foot drop from the windows on the third story of the building. Most people can't survive that sort of thing, you know?

DuckSales is a Heist Friendly Venture

If you'd like to steal from DuckSales, simply write out a good enough story where you take the money. Depending on how creative it is, you will receive anywhere from 0 to 15 credits depending on how I am feeling that particular day. If no one ever attempts a heist, well, then I don't really care. More money for me.

Once ScroogeMcDuck is dead. This no longer applies and it is now just a standard business.

I'll probably figure out how much to send by doing a dice bet or something. No fucking idea, I didn't think through this very much. I sort of just expect no one to ever read this, honestly.

"Let's officially open the place. If anyone wants to buy any of my services, they can now. I have officially opened for business! I'm willing to speak here to anyone about any sort of business-related deals."

Sitting down in his offices which were on the second floor. Scrooge looked through some paperwork and thought about what he should do to attempt driving more revenue into this establishment, maybe free coffee on Friday but cream and sugar would cost extra? That was genius, he quickly jotted it down and then continued on with the rest of his day.

It would surely be uneventful, or so he thought...

Camie Utsushimi's mission finds her standing outside a towering 30-story glass building, the moonlight glinting off its sleek exterior. With determination in her eyes, she surveys the structure, her mind focused on the task at hand. The cold Detroit air filling her lungs as she took a deep breath to calm her nerves.

Equipped with a specialized hookshot device, Camie aims it at a higher floor of the building, gauging the distance before firing. The retractable cable whizzes through the air and latches onto a sturdy ledge. With practiced finesse, she activates the winch and ascends the side of the building, her movements fluid and precise.

As she reaches the designated floor, Camie pulls herself up and attaches the hookshot to another ledge, continuing her stealthy ascent. Soon, she reaches an upper floor, her heart racing with adrenaline as she clings to the building's exterior.

Taking out a glass cutting tool, Camie carefully creates a discreet entrance through one of the windows. The tool makes minimal noise as it effortlessly cuts through the glass, allowing her to slip inside without alerting anyone to her presence. Once inside, Camie navigates through dimly lit hallways, her steps silent as she moves with the grace of a shadow. Her experience and training serve her well as she avoids security cameras and patrols, her focus unwavering.

Camie's mission leads her to two guards stationed near a secured door. Swift and silent, she incapacitates them using non-lethal means, ensuring they won't pose a threat. With their keys in hand, she approaches a locked door and gains access, her every move calculated and deliberate.

Inside the room, Camie discovers her target—the vault containing Scrooge’s wealth. She locates a third guard, stationed near the vault entrance. Drawing on her charm and charisma, she engages the guard in conversation, using her social skills to persuade him to willingly hand over his key.

With the key in her possession, Camie opens the vault, her heart pounding with a mix of anticipation and purpose. She steps in and looks around, her heart sinks as she glances around the empty room. She rummages through paperwork to find out it had been emptied a couple weeks ago following McDuck’s death. Her intel was old, not accounting for the duck being deceased. “Damnit.” Camie stomped her foot and quickly made her way from the vault. 

As Camie made her exit, she retraces her steps, leaving no trace of her presence behind. With the stealth of a true professional, she reattaches her hookshot to a ledge and descends the building, disappearing into the night, her mission failed. She made plans to leave Detroit as soon as possible and look for other opportunities elsewhere.