OC: It looks like the Council updated these missions because there was a site rules discrepancy that turned this into a TEAM MISSION. I am not holding you to team mission standards since you wrote your mission out before this change was made. Sadly I have to 'call' her a B Rank threat with appropriate Rank OC rewards. So you're getting paid for your solo mission. Sorry about the delay.
A young man received the unconscious young woman and shook his head. There was no cure for the madness that addled her. He looked down at the ninja wire, that was not going to be enough once she roused. He let out a huff of hot air wordlessly through his nares as he hurried across the office and dropped her on the floor like a sack of potatoes. He was going to need something more durable than simple ninja wire. Whilst the young man rifled through a drawer that seemed to clatter with the sounds of heavy chains, an elderly man who barely peered over the desk he sat behind made his presence known.

"Oi!" A heavily accented voice called out demanding attention. "Beating up wee lasses like that one 'ere?" His voice did not seem angry, in fact he seemed to recognize the potential danger she possessed but he was making light of the issue. "Not ev'ryone is fix'ble. Wouldda pr'ferred it if th'y were but th'y aint." His planted his hands on the desk, they were small and weathered. They were worker's hands pat their prime, spotted and wrinkled, scared and not crippled with arthritis that twisted and contorted his digits. "An' fix'n something us'ly mean's som'thing else breaks. Rare we are lucky 'nuff to have ev'ything wear out 'n break-down at the same time." He would know that better than most, a shell of his former self he still had his mind but not his body. The man who held this office before him, lost his mind so kept all his secrets.
He pulled out a small tin box, there were a number of warding seals embossed on the face. It was nothing fancy and perhaps the seals were just for show to prevent a robbery. He planted his hand on the lid and a small burst of
blue chakra was released from his hand and the tumblers within the small lock that sealed the box rotated internally. With an audible click the box was unlocked and he opened the lid. Inside was a respectable sum, in a place where a majority of the citizens also had some capacity for the shinobi arts it was likely a wise move. "You're big," he announced stating the obvious at least to him as most people seemed somewhat large. His grey eyes scanned the man, he was older than most of the kids that came in here with their prized capture. He knew most of them, watched them grow up. This was a first for this one, at least the first he had encountered from this man. "You're notta Sunan are you?" Henge was common and perhaps his mind was not sharp enough or his memory not long enough.
He slid the money across the desk half way.
"Where'd ya learn howta fight psychotic lil'gals like 'er?" Once Shoma reached for the yen, the old man would reach out and lay his hand on top of the foreigner's. He was deceptively quick but had no aura of aggression. "The desert couldda used a man l'ke you." With that he relinquished any contact he might have had on Shoma in the blink of an eye. He was rifling through the same drawer as the younger gentleman. He lifted a pair of fetters from deep in the drawer and heaved them behind him. "Th'adda do ya 'ere son," he announced "no need waist'n blood inna fight ya didn't haveta fight."
PAID -- note you have 2 separate people mentioned. I am quite confused. Since you are referencing a 'her' I went with the female. Not sure what you are doing with Kuro.