chapter 15
previous chapter
The sun rose, cycled across the sky lazily like an old man on a shaky bicycle, and then dramatically plunged down behind some mountains, creating a spectacular sunset. Hues of orange and red flames burned across the sky, creating a single picture perfect moment when the world stands still and admires the sheer beauty of nature.
The streets were bathed in the orange shade of the dying daylight when they left the safehouse. Cantrip ached all over: the training had been harsh, but at least now he was sure he had a slightly longer life expectancy should he ever be attacked by unknown assailants. The amused imp sat hidden inside a pocket, amusing itself by being somewhere else at the same time. Presumably somewhere more fun.
Seraph led the way to the Central Bank. It was an ancient stone building, built centuries ago in an unusually spirited attempt to create an architectural marvel that future generations could be proud of. The entire front of the building was preceded by a long row of gigantic pillars, covered from top to bottom in intricate carvings of what appeared to be, strangely enough, little angels holding bags of money and dollar signs. There was a row of eighteen doors leading into the bank's main hall and reception area, which was a large open room with light streaming downwards from a big stained-glass dome above.
Dozens of clerks sat behind the glass counters that lined the main hall, guarded by several burly ogres wearing ill-fitting security uniforms. Well-dressed customers were scurrying here and there, eager to conclude their business before the bank closed for the day, and the air had the strange musky smell of people rushing to finish too many things at once.
Seraph, Penelope and Cantrip headed uncertainly past the bustle, since the interior of a bank was something really strange to all of them. Bounty hunters generally kept their money in secret stashes, while street urchins stayed away from buildings like this. So much money in one place is really depressing, when you're flat broke and living off the streets. Seraph stopped at a counter labelled 'Information', which was manned by a harried looking lady with horn-rimmed spectacles. She glared at them as Seraph flashed his most convincing smile.
"Hey there," he said cheerfully. "We'd like to.."
"I'm sorry, are you sure you've come to the right building?" interrupted the lady severely. Her hair had become so messy it appeared to be pointing in several directions at once, and she practically radiated an attitude of 'it's been a long day so don't mess with me'. She had a name tag labelling her as one Miss Tulip.
"Well, yes, this IS the Central Bank, isn't it?" asked Seraph bewilderedly. "We're just here to.."
"If you're here for a loan, the Central Bank requires extensive documentations of all current assets you own and wish to put up for mortgage, and you will need to fill Forms 19(A), 25(C) and 32(B&C), which can be found at the Loans Counter. Allows twenty days for processing, and in the UNLIKELY event that it is approved, you will be duly informed. Good day."
"No, we're here to.." Seraph began again desperately.
Miss Tulip looked up sharply, quite possibly irritated at Seraph for reopening a conversation she had considered closed.
"Unfortunately, the Central Bank does not offer pawn-broking services, and we probably wouldn't serve you even if we did. And there are no jobs available at the moment, unless of course you are a heavily disguised ogre, which I doubt. If, heaven forbid, you are here to rob the bank, then I would strongly suggest you give up that foolish notion now and walk away while you still have the use of your legs. On the other hand, if you think that the Information Counter is some sort of walking encyclopedia to be funned with, then I regret to inform you that you are wrong. Ask me anything that has nothing to do with the Central Bank, and I will show you just how good I am with this crossbow I have right HERE," said Miss Tulip, as she produced a damn huge crossbow from somewhere under the counter and aimed it right at Seraph. "You're all the same, you know that?! You think asking stupid questions at the Information Counter is funny?? HUH?? DO YOU?! Come get some of THIS!"
"WHOA!" shouted Seraph as he ducked under the counter hastily. "RELAX! We're only here to..."
Miss Tulip relaxed slightly, and dropped the crossbow back under the counter. Her voice returned to its normal strained version. "Of course, if you have legitimate questions regarding the Bank or its many functions, then I will be more than happy to clarify those doubts. Deposits and withdrawals are handled by our helpful staff in the Financial Counters in the main hall, and we have a team of managers upstairs who are always willing to negotiate attractive interest rates for any large deposits with the Bank, large here referring to deposits of $500,000 or above. Should you wish to.."
Something inside Seraph snapped, and he slammed the counter and the words gushed out like a waterfall. "Enough!! I have a deed from a Mr Miller to a vault, and I just want to know what to do with it! That's all, okay?!" He stopped and took a deep breath.
Miss Tulip had gone silent. Then she replied in a small voice. "Okay, why didn't you just say so earlier? No need to shout. Down the hall, take a right at the end, and look for Mr McMuffin. He's the Vault Manager. Have a nice day."
Seraph gritted his teeth and stormed off, followed closely by the relieved duo of Penelope and Cantrip. Now that's why he wasn't a damned clerk, thought Seraph. All that exposure to the general public just drove them crazy.
* * * * *
Mr McMuffin was a small, jovial man, and as Seraph handed over the vault deed, he cheerfully led them down a long corridor ending at a large steel door, guarded by a pair of dim-witted ogres. Mr McMuffin removed a keyring containing what appeared to be hundreds of keys, and ten minutes later he found one that fit. The steel door swung open, and he led them down into the vaults.
The Central Bank deals with a lot of money, of course. Every day, hundreds of thousands of coins exchange hands in the Bank. Just like droplets of water, money had a strange tendency to disappear if left lying around, so the Bank kept them safely in a large network of vaults deep underground. The original design of the Bank included a single large, reinforced room to serve as the vault, but as the number of customers grew, the Bank opened a series of smaller vaults, each one serving as an expensive safety deposit box.
Access to a particular vault requires three things. First, you need a deed, which is just a scrap of expensive paper declaring your ownership of Vault So-and-so. Of course, there are various forgery techniques which could make a perfect duplicate of any document, so additional steps of verification were required.
The second thing you'll need is a password, which is a word or phrase designated by the vault owner. Whenever ownership of a vault changes hands, or upon request of the current owner, the Vault Manager inserts a special key into a statue near the Vault entrance, and the password is whispered into the statue's ear. Various gears and counterweights will then click and clack and drop into place, and the vault entrance will remain firmly locked until the password is whispered into the statue's ear again.
Unfortunately, both of the above steps have one small but important loophole: if you're a crooked Vault Manager, it would be a simple affair to stick the key into the statue, make up a silly password, and then gleefully help yourself to all the gold coins you can stuff inside your shirt. (Note: Only a really stupid person would even consider this, though. Any manager walking nonchalantly out of a bank with coins overflowing from his pockets would be viewed with deep suspicion. It would be safer and wiser to steal only a few coins at a time)
The management of the Bank gathered and debated the matter for days, and after countless meetings, they came up with a most manager-like solution, i.e. perfectly logical, until you actually think about it. Anyone who wishes to access the vault was required to sign a document, solemnly declaring their honest intentions and a promise that they won't steal the money inside.
* * * * *
Mr Fortune's vault was guarded by a particularly ugly statue, with a face that even its own mother would run away screaming from, if it had a mother. Seraph whispered 'wealth' into its ears.
Something inside the statue clicked and clacked, and with a groaning screech the door to the vault slid open. Inside was...
...nothing....
...except a lot of gold coins. There were so many coins that it formed a little golden island, complete with tiny mountains and valleys. The golden light it reflected bounced off the walls, creating an eerie shimmering effect rather similar to the reflections of a golden pond in a cave. Someone had originally packed the gold coins into sacks, but the gold overflowed and the poor sacks were now buried somewhere deep inside the pile, with an occasional corner sticking out forlornly.
Seraph's eyes glinted, and his mouth went dry at the sight of so much money. Gold tended to have that sort of effect on people.
"$65,000 and change, sir," said Mr McMuffin happily. "You can count it if you wish."
Seraph suspected the banker was pulling his leg: it would take days to count this pile. Stunned by the sheer gold-ness of the money, Seraph grabbed a handful of coins and stuffed them into his money bag. "Thank you, Mr McMuffin. We'll, er, take what we need, and the rest can stay here, eh? And, er, if we need some more we'll just pop by later and help ourselves," he said in a dazed tone.
"As you wish, sir." Mr McMuffin waited patiently outside, while the other three gawked blankly at the money in the vault. Penelope took a few hundred dollars in spare change, then happily squeaked as all girls do when they lay their hands on serious money. Cantrip wondered how many apples $65,000 could buy: probably several hundred carts, he concluded. A hell of a lot of apples.
An hour later, they left the Bank, a lot richer than when they entered. It was getting dark, and now Seraph was determined to find the diamond. Once he did, he would be very very rich... and even that money in the vault would be nothing but spare change. Heehee.
Which just goes to show that a little greed is a very powerful thing.
next chapter
The sun rose, cycled across the sky lazily like an old man on a shaky bicycle, and then dramatically plunged down behind some mountains, creating a spectacular sunset. Hues of orange and red flames burned across the sky, creating a single picture perfect moment when the world stands still and admires the sheer beauty of nature.
The streets were bathed in the orange shade of the dying daylight when they left the safehouse. Cantrip ached all over: the training had been harsh, but at least now he was sure he had a slightly longer life expectancy should he ever be attacked by unknown assailants. The amused imp sat hidden inside a pocket, amusing itself by being somewhere else at the same time. Presumably somewhere more fun.
Seraph led the way to the Central Bank. It was an ancient stone building, built centuries ago in an unusually spirited attempt to create an architectural marvel that future generations could be proud of. The entire front of the building was preceded by a long row of gigantic pillars, covered from top to bottom in intricate carvings of what appeared to be, strangely enough, little angels holding bags of money and dollar signs. There was a row of eighteen doors leading into the bank's main hall and reception area, which was a large open room with light streaming downwards from a big stained-glass dome above.
Dozens of clerks sat behind the glass counters that lined the main hall, guarded by several burly ogres wearing ill-fitting security uniforms. Well-dressed customers were scurrying here and there, eager to conclude their business before the bank closed for the day, and the air had the strange musky smell of people rushing to finish too many things at once.
Seraph, Penelope and Cantrip headed uncertainly past the bustle, since the interior of a bank was something really strange to all of them. Bounty hunters generally kept their money in secret stashes, while street urchins stayed away from buildings like this. So much money in one place is really depressing, when you're flat broke and living off the streets. Seraph stopped at a counter labelled 'Information', which was manned by a harried looking lady with horn-rimmed spectacles. She glared at them as Seraph flashed his most convincing smile.
"Hey there," he said cheerfully. "We'd like to.."
"I'm sorry, are you sure you've come to the right building?" interrupted the lady severely. Her hair had become so messy it appeared to be pointing in several directions at once, and she practically radiated an attitude of 'it's been a long day so don't mess with me'. She had a name tag labelling her as one Miss Tulip.
"Well, yes, this IS the Central Bank, isn't it?" asked Seraph bewilderedly. "We're just here to.."
"If you're here for a loan, the Central Bank requires extensive documentations of all current assets you own and wish to put up for mortgage, and you will need to fill Forms 19(A), 25(C) and 32(B&C), which can be found at the Loans Counter. Allows twenty days for processing, and in the UNLIKELY event that it is approved, you will be duly informed. Good day."
"No, we're here to.." Seraph began again desperately.
Miss Tulip looked up sharply, quite possibly irritated at Seraph for reopening a conversation she had considered closed.
"Unfortunately, the Central Bank does not offer pawn-broking services, and we probably wouldn't serve you even if we did. And there are no jobs available at the moment, unless of course you are a heavily disguised ogre, which I doubt. If, heaven forbid, you are here to rob the bank, then I would strongly suggest you give up that foolish notion now and walk away while you still have the use of your legs. On the other hand, if you think that the Information Counter is some sort of walking encyclopedia to be funned with, then I regret to inform you that you are wrong. Ask me anything that has nothing to do with the Central Bank, and I will show you just how good I am with this crossbow I have right HERE," said Miss Tulip, as she produced a damn huge crossbow from somewhere under the counter and aimed it right at Seraph. "You're all the same, you know that?! You think asking stupid questions at the Information Counter is funny?? HUH?? DO YOU?! Come get some of THIS!"
"WHOA!" shouted Seraph as he ducked under the counter hastily. "RELAX! We're only here to..."
Miss Tulip relaxed slightly, and dropped the crossbow back under the counter. Her voice returned to its normal strained version. "Of course, if you have legitimate questions regarding the Bank or its many functions, then I will be more than happy to clarify those doubts. Deposits and withdrawals are handled by our helpful staff in the Financial Counters in the main hall, and we have a team of managers upstairs who are always willing to negotiate attractive interest rates for any large deposits with the Bank, large here referring to deposits of $500,000 or above. Should you wish to.."
Something inside Seraph snapped, and he slammed the counter and the words gushed out like a waterfall. "Enough!! I have a deed from a Mr Miller to a vault, and I just want to know what to do with it! That's all, okay?!" He stopped and took a deep breath.
Miss Tulip had gone silent. Then she replied in a small voice. "Okay, why didn't you just say so earlier? No need to shout. Down the hall, take a right at the end, and look for Mr McMuffin. He's the Vault Manager. Have a nice day."
Seraph gritted his teeth and stormed off, followed closely by the relieved duo of Penelope and Cantrip. Now that's why he wasn't a damned clerk, thought Seraph. All that exposure to the general public just drove them crazy.
* * * * *
Mr McMuffin was a small, jovial man, and as Seraph handed over the vault deed, he cheerfully led them down a long corridor ending at a large steel door, guarded by a pair of dim-witted ogres. Mr McMuffin removed a keyring containing what appeared to be hundreds of keys, and ten minutes later he found one that fit. The steel door swung open, and he led them down into the vaults.
The Central Bank deals with a lot of money, of course. Every day, hundreds of thousands of coins exchange hands in the Bank. Just like droplets of water, money had a strange tendency to disappear if left lying around, so the Bank kept them safely in a large network of vaults deep underground. The original design of the Bank included a single large, reinforced room to serve as the vault, but as the number of customers grew, the Bank opened a series of smaller vaults, each one serving as an expensive safety deposit box.
Access to a particular vault requires three things. First, you need a deed, which is just a scrap of expensive paper declaring your ownership of Vault So-and-so. Of course, there are various forgery techniques which could make a perfect duplicate of any document, so additional steps of verification were required.
The second thing you'll need is a password, which is a word or phrase designated by the vault owner. Whenever ownership of a vault changes hands, or upon request of the current owner, the Vault Manager inserts a special key into a statue near the Vault entrance, and the password is whispered into the statue's ear. Various gears and counterweights will then click and clack and drop into place, and the vault entrance will remain firmly locked until the password is whispered into the statue's ear again.
Unfortunately, both of the above steps have one small but important loophole: if you're a crooked Vault Manager, it would be a simple affair to stick the key into the statue, make up a silly password, and then gleefully help yourself to all the gold coins you can stuff inside your shirt. (Note: Only a really stupid person would even consider this, though. Any manager walking nonchalantly out of a bank with coins overflowing from his pockets would be viewed with deep suspicion. It would be safer and wiser to steal only a few coins at a time)
The management of the Bank gathered and debated the matter for days, and after countless meetings, they came up with a most manager-like solution, i.e. perfectly logical, until you actually think about it. Anyone who wishes to access the vault was required to sign a document, solemnly declaring their honest intentions and a promise that they won't steal the money inside.
* * * * *
Mr Fortune's vault was guarded by a particularly ugly statue, with a face that even its own mother would run away screaming from, if it had a mother. Seraph whispered 'wealth' into its ears.
Something inside the statue clicked and clacked, and with a groaning screech the door to the vault slid open. Inside was...
...nothing....
...except a lot of gold coins. There were so many coins that it formed a little golden island, complete with tiny mountains and valleys. The golden light it reflected bounced off the walls, creating an eerie shimmering effect rather similar to the reflections of a golden pond in a cave. Someone had originally packed the gold coins into sacks, but the gold overflowed and the poor sacks were now buried somewhere deep inside the pile, with an occasional corner sticking out forlornly.
Seraph's eyes glinted, and his mouth went dry at the sight of so much money. Gold tended to have that sort of effect on people.
"$65,000 and change, sir," said Mr McMuffin happily. "You can count it if you wish."
Seraph suspected the banker was pulling his leg: it would take days to count this pile. Stunned by the sheer gold-ness of the money, Seraph grabbed a handful of coins and stuffed them into his money bag. "Thank you, Mr McMuffin. We'll, er, take what we need, and the rest can stay here, eh? And, er, if we need some more we'll just pop by later and help ourselves," he said in a dazed tone.
"As you wish, sir." Mr McMuffin waited patiently outside, while the other three gawked blankly at the money in the vault. Penelope took a few hundred dollars in spare change, then happily squeaked as all girls do when they lay their hands on serious money. Cantrip wondered how many apples $65,000 could buy: probably several hundred carts, he concluded. A hell of a lot of apples.
An hour later, they left the Bank, a lot richer than when they entered. It was getting dark, and now Seraph was determined to find the diamond. Once he did, he would be very very rich... and even that money in the vault would be nothing but spare change. Heehee.
Which just goes to show that a little greed is a very powerful thing.
next chapter
posted by nerdook at 7:26 PM
2 Comments:
Here i add.. or better pour lar.. more super oil for u, good work so far keep it coming.... almost 50% liao, proud of u son
thanks mum! :D
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