What is Gotham Bank?

Twenty minutes later, Downton haphazardly parked the borrowed car in front of the bank.

After tidying his clothes slightly, he offered the security guard at the entrance a faint smile and walked into the bank with confidence.

The bank was not very large; it had a mere three counters, and its floor area was so small it felt like a shop.

However, this was precisely why Downton had chosen to patronize it.

Downton had considered his own operational capabilities; if he relied solely on himself, he might have to die a dozen times over before he could successfully handle a large bank.

It was true that he could not die, but every time he died, it would cost him a period of time.

If things dragged on too long, even the most negligent police officers would eventually surround the bank he was borrowing money from.

He was here to withdraw money, not to go on a killing spree; the size of the bank and a minimal security presence were necessary for him to actually walk away with the cash.

A small bank like this one was perfect.

Thinking this, Downton walked up to the counter and joined the queue.

In the bank lobby, the manager scrutinized Downton's attire and immediately walked toward him.

People in his line of work, who dealt with money and wealthy individuals, had the sharpest eyes; he recognized the brand of Downton's clothes and knew this outfit cost at least five thousand dollars.

What was the concept of five thousand dollars? That was six whole iPhones. Someone wearing such clothing, even if not incredibly wealthy, was certainly at least middle-class—perhaps a young dentist or a lawyer.

As the financial manager of the Gotham East branch of Atlanta Bank, he loved customers like Downton.

In his view, customers with Downton's level of financial strength were the easiest to hoodwink; they had some money but not enough, some power but not enough, and some channels but not enough.

Most importantly, they possessed a certain amount of information from the middle strata of society, yet they were unable to fundamentally break through the information cocoon laid out by capital.

By exploiting information asymmetry, the manager could easily lure such people into various high-risk investments and funnel their money into the bank's hands.

It wasn't like dealing with the truly wealthy; those people had entire teams around them that made it impossible to find an opening.

"Greetings. Please call me Ryan Bernard; I am the vice president of this bank.

In my opinion, a gentleman like yourself shouldn't have to wait in line with everyone else, unless you wish to experience a life different from what you are accustomed to."

"Oh?"

Downton was taken aback by Ryan's sudden appearance.

"I don't need to wait in line? That's pretty sweet, buddy. You've got a sharp eye!"

"You are too kind. An excellent gentleman such as yourself should stand out in any environment, just as you do now. I am merely doing what I ought to do."

Facing Downton's praise, Ryan wore a perfectly measured smile and gestured to lead Downton toward the VIP lounge.

Downton followed behind Ryan, speaking as they walked.

"Your bank isn't very big, but the business seems quite busy; there are quite a lot of people in line."

"Indeed. Compared to the local Wayne Bank and Kane Bank here in Gotham, it is difficult for us to fully penetrate the Gotham financial market.

However, precisely because the competition is fierce, we possess a level of service far superior to the local flagship banks. This is the reason a significant number of local users choose the financial assistance we provide.

We are more willing and better equipped to serve our users than the local family-owned banks, sir."

While speaking, Ryan brought Downton into the lounge, brewed him a cup of coffee, and brought over some desserts with a moderate level of sweetness.

Asian people were often not as keen on sugar as their black or white counterparts; Manager Ryan was a professional.

Sitting opposite Downton, watching him sip his coffee, Manager Ryan smiled and continued to ask.

"I wonder what business you would like to conduct?"

"I'm here to take out some money."

"Is that so? So you are already a loyal customer of our Atlanta Bank; this truly comes as a pleasant surprise.

However, you aren't a local of Gotham, are you? After all, I don't mean to boast, but I would never forget a high-quality client like you if I had served you before.

Therefore, you must have opened your savings account at one of our branches elsewhere, and you haven't been in Gotham for very long, right?"

"Spot on!"

Downton gave Ryan an appreciative thumbs-up.

"Maybe my style is just too well-suited for Gotham, because until now, you're the only one who could tell I just arrived."

"Haha, you are too kind. I don't know how much cash you wish to withdraw; please provide me with your account details.

Since you don't have an appointment, you might not be able to make a large withdrawal today, but I will try my best to facilitate it for you, hoping to meet your current consumption needs."

Ryan nodded at Downton with a smile, then waited silently for Downton to state his account number.

However...

Meeting Manager Ryan's expectant gaze, Downton gave a light shrug.

"What account? What savings? Sorry, I don't have any of that stuff."

"What?"

Ryan was slightly stunned. Before he could even react, Downton had already drawn a pistol from the small of his back.

The moment he entered the VIP lounge, Downton had spotted the location of the surveillance camera. He walked under it, gun in hand, and destroyed it with a single shot.

The sudden crack of gunfire brought the entire bank to a standstill, though those outside the VIP lounge remained momentarily dazed.

Inside the lounge, Downton turned his muzzle toward Ryan, who was reaching for his own weapon.

"Don't move, buddy. You said you'd provide me with some convenience; a man should keep his word. Besides, we weren't finished with our conversation. What accounts? What stored value? Is a bank really such an inconvenient thing? If I have to deposit money before I can withdraw it, why would I choose your Atlanta Bank, and what would keep me loyal to your brand? You bank managers need to be flexible in your business, or how else will you keep premium clients like me?"

As he spoke, Downton stepped behind Ryan and pressed the muzzle against his lower back.

Grabbing Ryan by the collar with his other hand, Downton kicked open the lounge door, exposing the held manager to the stunned crowd.

"Shit!"

"It's a robbery!"

"Damn, do robbers dress that well these days?"

"He isn't even wearing a mask!"

The customers in the bank scrambled in panic, and those near the entrance bolted immediately, causing no small amount of trouble for the bank's security guards.

There were only four guards in the modest-sized bank; excluding the one still stationed at the door, three guns were leveled squarely at Downton.

Facing the guards' muzzles, Downton draped his left arm over Manager Ryan's shoulder and addressed them.

"How much do you get paid a month? Why risk your lives for that kind of money? Believe me, I'm not here to rob you, but to provide your bank with some convenience. I'm only one man; how much could I possibly take? This loss is a mere trifle for a massive institution like Atlanta Bank that spans the entire country. But my appearance won't just let you squeeze the insurance company; it will help your bank resolve some bad debts. If you don't believe me, ask Manager Ryan here—he surely understands what I mean."

Downton poked Ryan's head with the muzzle, and Ryan nodded frantically.

Then, Ryan hurriedly bellowed at the security personnel.

"Didn't you hear him? The robber demands all surveillance equipment be turned off, or my head will be blown open!"

As he finished, Manager Ryan swallowed hard, then turned his head to whisper to Downton.

"Sir, you... fine, even if it's just for the sake of my life, I... must admit you have a point. But before that, it's best not to let them hear our conversation."

After that explanation, Manager Ryan resumed acting like a madman, shouting at his surroundings again.

"Are you all idiots? Turn off the surveillance, turn it off!"

"Uh, this..."

Faced with Ryan's urging, the security guards looked at each other before picking up their radios.

"Turner, shut down all surveillance!"

"Copy that, but are there any special operations from the family lately?"

The guard in the surveillance room replied over the radio before cutting the feed entirely.

Once the monitors in the lobby went dark and tilted downward, Manager Ryan finally let out a long, weary breath.

"Whose man are you?"

Now that he had relaxed, Manager Ryan suddenly spoke to Downton.

"It looks like you're working solo; no wonder you didn't know. This is the Maroni Family's territory, and our bank has a good, tacit cooperation with them. Listen to my advice, buddy: the waters of bank robbery are very deep, and you won't be able to handle it. The methods you mentioned are things we've been doing with the Maroni Family all along. Even the guards in our bank are Maroni Family thugs; they will hunt you to the ends of the earth. They are far more dangerous than the police!"