【Fred's Signature Pen. Fraudster Fred's favorite, but it can copy nothing except signatures.】
【Strange Bowtie. My voice becomes unpredictable; no one can recognize it.】
A sudden barrage of warnings from his mystery intuition caught Lynch completely off guard. He stared blankly at the people stepping out of the inner room.
Two men emerged. One was an elderly man in formal attire with graying hair and beard. He was gaunt and thin, practically wearing the traits of a businessman on his face. The other was a young man with sharp, clean features, dressed impeccably in fine aristocratic attire. He wore a prominent emerald ring on his right hand, which immediately caught the eye.
And that string of warnings was emanating directly from this young man.
Put all these together, and it's obvious what he's up to, Lynch thought, casting a thoughtful glance at the young man.
“Frankly, I am deeply disappointed. Even with joint guarantees from the three wealthiest bankers in the Kingdom of Salter, you are only willing to offer a monthly withdrawal limit of one thousand pounds. By the Lord of Wealth above, one thousand pounds—what a massive sum! Ha! The pocket change I carry daily adds up to more than that.”
The young man casually pulled a thick stack of five-pound notes from his wallet and waved them nonchalantly.
“Forget it. It seems Lord Filo and the others' reputation is only worth a thousand pounds a month in your eyes. Or perhaps your bank's scale is simply too small to handle anything more than that. If that's the case, I should probably take my letter of guarantee to Norin and find Wald Bank. They are, after all, the most powerful bank in Lande, and should be capable of covering my daily expenses here.”
“Wait, Your Lordship, please do not be angry! I have simply never seen those three noble lords of the Kingdom of Salter issue a joint large-sum guarantee for anyone before. If you don't mind, I would like to review those three letters of guarantee once more. As long as they are genuine, two thousand, three thousand, or even five thousand pounds a month—our Edmond Douglas Bank can easily provide it!”
“I see. It seems I misjudged you.”
The young man offered a reserved smile, pulled a few gold-embossed letters from his pocket, and tossed them carelessly to Mr. Douglas, as though they were mere scrap paper rather than vital documents concerning thousands of pounds every month.
Mr. Douglas received them with trembling hands. Just as he was about to return to the inner room with the young man to examine them further, he noticed Lynch standing by the door. Frowning in annoyance, he shot a glance at Lynch. “What is he doing here?”
The clerk in the outer office immediately stepped forward, whispered a few words into his ear, and gestured with the check.
“Then cash it for him! Why are you asking me? Coming to me over a paltry sum like fifty pounds—have you never seen money before? If you do something this stupid again, don't bother coming to work. You're an embarrassment to our bank!” Mr. Douglas raised his hand and slapped the clerk twice across the face. Then he turned around, offering a servile smile to the young man. “My Lord Viscount, this idiot is a new probationer who has no idea of our Edmond Douglas Bank's true standing. Please, after you.”
With that, he respectfully invited the young man back into the inner room, shutting the heavy door firmly behind them.
Watching the bank clerk open the safe with an aggrieved expression while clutching his red, cheek-slapped face, Lynch's expression grew exceedingly subtle—so much so that the clerk paused in hesitation. “Sir... is something wrong?”
“I am an evil god. Give me money.”
“Huh?”
Lynch smiled and shook his head, saying nothing further.
With three mystery relics on one person, it took no genius to figure out what the young man was up to. Lynch hadn't expected that his very first visit to a bank since transmigrating would allow him to witness such a spectacular bank fraud. If the young man succeeded, this top-tier bank in the city would take a massive financial hit.
But what does that have to do with me? I'm just a dirty, stinking lower-class scrub who knows nothing about the effects of those relics or how fraud works.
Lynch gave a sympathetic shrug and snatched up the stack of banknotes respectfully handed over by the clerk.
They're clearly just paper, so why do they look so dazzling?
Eight five-pound notes and ten one-pound notes were stacked together in a colorful pile, feeling delightfully heavy in his hand.
Or at least, psychologically heavy.
Lynch stroked the bills, tempted to count them a few more times, but decided against it to avoid looking completely foolish.
In this world, plenty of common folk lived their entire lives without seeing Lande pound notes more than a handful of times. Holding this much cash was probably enough to drive many people mad with greed.
Good thing I cashed it first. Once they get scammed, there might not even be any money left to withdraw.
Feeling not a shred of sympathy for the banker about to walk straight into a trap, Lynch carefully tucked the banknotes into several different pockets. He then offered the young clerk a peculiar smile before hastily leaving the building.
Good luck to you all. I'm sure it won't be long before today's news hits the front pages.
Patting the money in his pockets brought an inexplicable sense of bliss, making even his injured leg feel considerably better. Following the map through a few turnings, the surroundings gradually grew quiet.
Pedestrians thinned out, and the buildings grew sparse. Right at the end of the street, a massive stone structure whose architecture vaguely resembled the ruins of Zur Baha Sahr appeared before him.
It somewhat resembled the ancient Greek temples of his former world. Its grand scale presented a magnificent sight. Occupying such a large swath of land in the financial center of the Valley District, where real estate commanded exorbitant prices, proved that the organization behind this building possessed formidable power.
Directly atop the temple's spire, a giant eyeball carved from white jade perched overhead. Through some unknown technique, no matter which angle one viewed it from, the eyeball seemed to be staring straight at them.
A bit creepy...
Lynch felt a wave of nervousness, but seeing the occasional pedestrian entering and leaving the building—and recalling that Officer Natalie had recommended this place—he took a deep breath and walked straight toward it.
Ascending the long flight of pristine white stone steps, he came face-to-face with the building's towering vaulted entrance. Directly above the main door was painted a deeply unsettling emblem.
At first glance, it looked like a cluster of countless spheres piled together. Upon closer inspection, every single sphere was a massive eyeball. These giant eyes were entwined with one another, gazing in different directions as though prying into everything in the surrounding area.
Hss.
Lynch's heart tightened. The image exerted intense mental pressure on him, evoking a tremor that resonated from the depths of his soul.
Why does this feel so similar to when I saw that emblem back at the Black Cat Theater? Don't tell me this is another evil god's bizarre hobby...
With that thought in mind, Lynch quickly lowered his gaze, avoiding the emblem as he hurried toward the heavy stone door. Following Officer Natalie's instructions, Lynch pressed his hand into the hand-shaped indentation on the stone door and softly recited the cipher.
“May the light of truth shine upon me one day.”
The moment he finished speaking, Lynch felt the ground vanish beneath his feet. His body was transported away from the door, plunging into a void enveloped in darkness on all sides.
Whoosh. Two gas lamps ignited out of thin air on his left and right, illuminating the void across from Lynch. A figure clad in a gray robe stood beneath the light, their features obscured, radiating a sense of boundless mystery and invisible pressure.
“Welcome to the Knowledge Library, young Soul Severer. Welcome to sharing the billion radiances of truth with us.”
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