Russell Watson.
Why was he here?
Mary's mind moved on instinct, her gaze sticking to Russell as if glued there.
He seemed to be handling some kind of transaction.
She reflexively wanted to stand—then hesitated, as though remembering something. She lifted her eyes toward a certain direction.
After a moment of inner struggle, the girl pressed her lips together, finally gathering her courage. She stood and walked toward that figure.
Her steps were light—so light that when she reached him from behind, the man was still waiting at the counter for the clerk to process his paperwork, completely unaware.
Until she lifted a hand and gently tapped his shoulder.
"Good afternoon."
A warm, smooth voice sounded right by his ear.
Russell turned at once, meeting those blue eyes.
"Mary?" He looked surprised. "What are you doing here?"
"My father has some business to take care of. I came with him." Mary smiled. "And you?"
"I'm here to deposit some money," Russell said frankly. "For when I get married in the future—kidding."
"Really?" The corners of Mary's lips lifted slightly. "Because that didn't sound much like a joke."
The irritation she'd felt from waiting vanished without a trace.
She glanced around and noticed it was only Russell.
Curious, she asked, "Charlotte didn't come with you?"
"On a sunny day you can't even count on her leaving the house—on a rainy day you want her to come out?" Russell shrugged with a grin. "Unless it's the end of the world."
While they chatted, the front desk clerk finished the procedure and handed Russell a receipt.
"Thank you."
Russell accepted it, then left the counter with Mary, walking toward the guest sofas.
They reached the seating area one after the other and sat down in a relatively secluded corner.
Russell's eyes swept the lobby in what looked like a casual glance, taking in every detail and every security measure.
Tighter than I expected…
No wonder this was London's largest private bank.
He thought silently.
If I pull this job off, my title ranking can finally go up.
And it all came down to this morning—
While Russell was brushing his teeth in front of the mirror, his system panel had suddenly appeared inside the reflection.
The operation against the Roy family had been finalized. His wallet now held a full 2,500 points of Malice.
At the same time, he'd triggered an upgrade condition.
As long as he completed the task, he could rise from "Somewhat Known" to "Household Name."
From a societal standpoint, he was already a household name.
But the system apparently disagreed.
The win condition for this promotion match was:
Complete a theft operation targeting Lloyds Bank.
Once completed, his title would upgrade, he'd get additional Malice, and the shop inventory would refresh.
Convenient timing—he'd been resting for a week. If he didn't do something soon, even his "craft" would start to get rusty.
So he took the mission and came to Lloyds Bank under the pretext of making a deposit.
While waiting for his number, he had already surveyed the entire lobby once.
High difficulty… but not flawless.
A normal thief would have no confidence.
But he wasn't a normal thief.
"What are you looking at?" Mary noticed his distracted air and asked.
"Nothing," Russell withdrew his gaze and put on a naïve, wide-eyed smile. "It's my first time here."
"This place is really magnificent."
"After all, it's London's biggest private bank." Mary smiled, her eyes following his as she looked around.
"And its security is famous across the whole city—maybe even Moriarty couldn't get in."
"Mm… I think so too." Russell nodded in agreement.
As they spoke, the door to the reception room at the end of the corridor opened.
The Duke of Morstan walked out side by side with Tommy, the bank's manager, and approached Mary and Russell.
"Father."
Mary stood up instinctively. Russell froze for a beat, then also stood.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Morstan," Russell said.
"This is…?" The Duke's eyes settled on Russell, an understated assessment hidden in his gaze.
"I'm Russell Watson—Mary's classmate," Russell replied.
The Duke frowned, rapidly searching his memory for the name.
Then he gave a slight nod. His expression didn't reveal pleasure or displeasure—he simply turned his eyes to Mary.
"Come on, Mary. Don't waste time here."
With that, he no longer looked at Russell and turned toward the exit.
Mary parted her lips as if she wanted to say something, but facing that silent back, she swallowed her words.
Then she turned to Russell and offered an apologetic smile.
That smile was like a snowflake—lightly landing in Russell's eyes, and then melting away.
She said nothing, only shaped silent words at him.
—See you tomorrow.
And then she lifted her skirt and turned around, like a finely wound doll, walking with graceful steps after the Duke of Morstan.
Russell stayed where he was, watching her figure pass through the gilded doorway and disappear into the rain.
Beside him, Tommy shot Russell a look of disdain.
Russell didn't react.
He simply stood and walked toward the lavatory.
Five minutes later, a man stepped out—black-rimmed glasses, a uniform.
Not a moment of mourning for Russell Watson's exit.
Because the next to take the stage was—
Lloyds Bank Headquarters: Senior Internal Auditor.
—Clark Kent.
Standing at the lavatory entrance, Russell adjusted the suit he'd bought from the system shop for 50 Malice.
Then he nudged his glasses up the bridge of his nose. The corners of his mouth dipped faintly, as if the whole world offended him by existing.
He strode to the counter and rapped his knuckles against the wooden desktop.
"Sir, how may I help you?"
"Kent."
Russell took out an employee identification card stamped with gilded insignia and an embossed seal, placing it on the counter.
"Board Special Audit Committee. I need to conduct a temporary security inspection of your underground vault."
The clerk blinked, momentarily stunned.
"I'm sorry… please wait a moment. I need to report to my supervisor."
"I don't intend to wait long."
"N-no—of course not. Very soon!"
The clerk sprang up and hurried away. Not long after, he returned in a rush—
With Tommy right beside him.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Kent. I'm Tommy, the bank's director…"
Tommy picked up the ID, carefully inspecting the pattern and texture.
Yet both his memory and his instincts told him the same thing:
It was genuine.
"Kent." Tommy's smile stiffened, but he kept it polite.
"My sincerest apologies—we didn't receive any prior notice…"
"If every surprise inspection required advance notice," Russell cut in coldly, "what would be the point of calling it a surprise, Mr. Tommy?"
His gaze chilled. He pushed up his glasses, the lenses flashing with icy light.
"Or is there something here… that's inconvenient to be inspected?"
Tommy jolted, then shook his head hard.
"No. No, of course not!"
"If not, then move." Russell urged impatiently. "Time is money, Mr. Tommy."
"Y-yes. Yes, sir."
Tommy nodded, putting on a placating smile.
"Please come with me. I'll take you there personally."
....
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