Dabi has his written down in the book that was in his pack when he found it at the beginning, but has given little thought to it since them. He isn't sure whether the gods in this place are for or against them, whether they're behind all the shit they have to deal with or if it's entirely out of their power. Survival is a better use of his time than trying to figure out how this crazy world works. Not that he'd be against murdering them if it got them back home.

Money is only useful for the "shiny" things, which Dabi sometimes finds a purveyor for. His first trade here was for shiny rocks rather than anything all that "useful" in terms of bartering. But in this place, a bar of gold can be traded and a fresh chicken can be traded. All it matters if finding which the other person wants. Easy enough. Besides, you never know what comes in handy.

"I can managed." So far he's got two meager bags of coins, a flinklock pistol, and whatever's in this small chest that he's working on trying to open. A few other things scatter across the desk, but those three are currently Dabi's interest. "I ain't the one wantin to lug around a buncha rocks."