PART 2: The Boy Who Owned the Bank
Chapter 1
“GET OUT OF HERE BEFORE I CALL THE POLICE!” she snapped, her voice slicing through the polished silence of the bank lobby.
The boy flinched.
Only once.
Then he slowly raised his head.
His eyes were… wrong. Too blue. Too calm. Not the eyes of someone scared — the eyes of someone who already knew how this would end.
“I… I just want to check my account.”
The room shifted.
Laughter died mid-breath. Conversations collapsed into silence. A woman lowered her sunglasses. A man in a tailored suit stepped closer, curiosity pulling him in like gravity.
The boy walked forward.
No rush. No hesitation.
From his worn pocket, he placed an old envelope on the counter.
Then — a black card.
The employee smirked, annoyed, already dismissing him.
“This better be fake.”
She slid the card into the terminal and began typing.
Fast.
Confident.
Unbothered.
At first.
Then her fingers slowed.
Her brow tightened.
She typed again. Faster now.
Numbers reflected in her glasses — long, endless strings that didn’t look real.
“…what?” she whispered.
The guard stepped closer. People abandoned their lines. The air grew heavy.
“Just tell me the number,” the boy said quietly.
She swallowed.
Her hands trembled.
“No chance…” someone whispered behind her.
The woman slowly looked up, her face drained of all color.
“This account…” she said, barely breathing.
Her lips trembled.
“…owns the bank.”
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For the first time—
The boy smiled.
