Mr. Klin, the mystery expert, had already proved with his life that the danger level of this matter was exceptionally high, far exceeding the previous events Lynch had encountered.
However, Lynch had never been one to give up halfway. Since the investigation had already progressed this far and he had the full assistance of the Watchers, he might as well dig deeper.
If he could complete Duke Vane's commission, the material rewards would certainly not be meager. The mystery behind the incident might even grant him a grand gift leading to the path of immortality. At the same time, it would draw him closer to the Watchers, the Church of the Black Night, and Duke Vane, and even boost his favorability with the Lande royal family's Rose family. For his long-term life in this world, this was a move with everything to gain and nothing to lose.
Besides, even setting aside reasons like seeking fortune in danger or other evil gods beckoning to him, there was no reason for him to be scared off on the spot just because he encountered potential dangers. That would be far too shameful for a transmigrator. After all, transmigrators were an extraordinary species that charged forward when facing difficulties and created difficulties to charge forward even when there weren't any. Furthermore, he was no longer a novice who had just arrived in this world; the previous battle proved that he already possessed basic combat capability, living up to his revolver and cane.
Therefore, Lynch was determined to continue investigating, striving to complete the commission before the deadline of July 28. But there was no rush at the moment. Since Mr. V had taken over the task of finding the original photo, he could comfortably recover from his injuries, enjoy life in another world, and wait for the clues to be delivered.
A mid-tier powerhouse with rank five authority, as well as a professional mystery hunter, surely wouldn't run into trouble over this, right...? Ptui, ptui, ptui. Blessings from Neighbor, I didn't think anything just now. If I bump into an evil god when I step out tomorrow morning, it won't be my fault.
Quickly dispelling the stray thoughts from his mind, Lynch fanned himself with the extra edition newspaper in his hand. It was the first extra edition that featured his picture, so Lynch had specifically bought a copy as a keepsake.
It was already June 5, and the weather was beginning to warm up. Currently, Lynch was dressed in a plain linen shirt and a light, cheap casual jacket, wearing a flat cap. Sitting in an open hired carriage, he looked just like an ordinary artisan or industrial worker.
He still preferred formal wear, as it suited his destination better. However, his coat and top hat had been ruined in Zur Baha Sahr, and replacing them would cost at least five or six pounds. He decided to leave that for later and head to the address given by the lady police officer for now.
With such an unexpected turn of events at the Watcher headquarters, Officer Natalie, as a person involved, undoubtedly had a mountain of tasks to handle—such as writing reports, writing reports, and writing more reports. As an outsider, Lynch naturally couldn't get involved, so he could only sorrowfully leave behind the officer lady whose eyes were practically sparking with fury. He was so sorrowful that he nearly burst out laughing.
Free from report-writing duties, Lynch planned to check out a mystery location where abilities and spells could be traded. But before that, there was an important matter to settle.
Withdrawing money.
Half a month ago, after solving the major treason case and sharing the profits, the fifty-pound check sent by Chairman Grant on behalf of the municipal government was still untouched. With little cash left on him, it was time to visit a bank—something he had rarely done in his entire life.
From the original host's memories, Lynch discovered that banks in this world were vastly different from those in his memory.
Almost no individual retail clients came to deposit money, because depositing here earned no interest; instead, one had to pay storage fees to the bank.
Most people simply chose not to deposit money. No matter how much cash they had, holding it in their own hands felt far better than paying money to deposit it. Consequently, bank operations were minimal, and there was no need for spacious halls or teller counters.
Aside from borrowers and financial transactions between government departments, the only ones who actually dealt with banks were large-scale traders, specifically those in cross-regional trade. For instance, depositing money in Edmond Douglas Bank in Rhine City, taking a deposit slip or check issued by Mr. Douglas, and redeeming it at partner banks in Norin allowed for convenient cross-regional commerce without doing something stupid like traveling the world with bags of banknotes or gold coins.
If a client hadn't paid him with a check back when he worked as an antique detective, the original host probably wouldn't have had the chance to touch one in his entire life.
Stepping down from the carriage, he found himself on a bustling street in the Valley District. The buildings on both sides were four or five stories tall, with pale white exteriors that exuded wealth and ostentation.
On the second floor of one building hung a gold-embossed sign: Edmond Douglas Bank.
This should be the place—Edmond Douglas Bank, one of the largest banks in Rhine City.
Passing through the resplendent hall to the second floor, the so-called bank consisted merely of two offices on one side of the corridor.
As soon as he entered, he saw a young man in formal attire with slicked, shiny hair sitting behind an office desk, slamming the desk arrogance displayed on his face as he yelled at two middle-aged men dressed as farmers:
“Damn it, a bunch of stupid illiterates who can’t even read the regulations. How many times have I said it? We don’t take your filthy cattle and sheep. If you want to borrow money, put up real estate as collateral. Do you understand what real estate means? It means your family’s farmland! If you don’t have collateral, get the hell out. I’ve had enough of you dirty, stupid mud-legs.”
“Sir, Sir, please don’t be angry,” the two farmers said in low voices, heads bowed. “But we heard that old Mick over at Downton Manor mort—mort—oh, mortgaged his farmland to Mr. Malfoy’s bank, only for Mr. Malfoy to resell their farmland at a high price to the municipal government’s Land Acquisition Office.”
“Bullshit! Without your power of attorney, who could sell your land using your deeds?” The young man shouted loudly, appearing righteous. “Besides, how can Malfoy compare to the reputation of our Edmond Douglas Bank? How dare you question our credibility! Get out! Nobody’s begging you to borrow money, beat it! Don’t enter this door again without land deeds.”
Tsk, it seemed the impact of the land purchase orders was growing larger and larger.
The so-called land purchase order was the municipal government's policy for acquiring farmland. Though called acquisition, all kinds of shady tactics were employed, and mortgage fraud like this bank's was one of the crudest methods.
Just as Lynch was lost in thought for a moment, the young bank clerk turned to him. His eyes swept over Lynch's attire, and his eyebrows arched even higher. “And you! Where did you lower-class scrub come from? If you want to borrow money, bring collateral. Otherwise, get the hell out too!”
At the shouting, the two farmers turned pale with fright and scrambled away. However, Lynch had seen plenty of such arrogant lackeys acting tough in his past life as a corporate drone and had rich experience in dealing with them. He merely cast a faint glance at the clerk, then paced around the outer parlor with his hands behind his back.
“Damn it, I’m talking to you! Are you deaf? How dare you step into a bank dressed like that? Don’t you know proper attire is required? What do you think a bank is? You’re dirty and stinky, filthy-ing up the carpet. Get out right now...”
Saying that, he strode over, preparing to shove Lynch out. Lynch merely watched him approach with a half-smile. Just as the clerk was about to touch his body, Lynch pinched the check between two fingers and lightly slapped it across the young clerk's face.
Slap.
It didn't hurt, but it stunned the young man into a daze. Helpless, he watched Lynch wave the check in front of his eyes.
With a faint smile, Lynch tapped the young clerk's face repeatedly with the check:
“A municipal government check issued personally by Chairman Grant for fifty pounds. Seeing as you demanded I get the hell out, I want to see the money within five minutes. Otherwise, I will have Grant cancel the partnership between the municipal government and Edmond Douglas Bank. I’m sure your Mr. Douglas will be delighted and reward you handsomely.”
“S-Sir, wait.” The clerk had seen plenty of municipal government checks and recognized its authenticity at a glance. A flattering smile instantly broke across his face, and he stretched his neck forward slightly to make it easier for Lynch to tap him. “C-Could you let me verify the signature and stamp first?”
The moment he took the check and saw the signature, the clerk's expression changed completely. Even though Lynch had stopped tapping him, his face remained bunched up in anxiety.
It was actually genuine!
Rubbing his hands together, the clerk offered an apologetic smile. “Sir, Sir, Mr. Douglas is currently meeting with another guest, but he’ll be out shortly. Could you please take a seat for a moment?”
“I'm still in a hurry to get the hell out.” Lynch pulled out his pocket watch and glanced at it. “You have four minutes and fifteen seconds left.”
“Sir, I’m sorry, I was wrong! Please forgive me!” Turning pale as a sheet, the clerk slapped himself across the face a few times, bowing low with a forced smile. “Please...”
Just as he spoke, the door leading to the inner room opened.
What Lynch registered first was not someone walking out, but a warning ringing in his consciousness.
【Robin's Prosthetic Hand. Nothing can stop Robin from taking back what belongs to him, no matter where it is hidden.】
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