Westminster Bank
Chapter 1: The Client is a Dragon
A cold wind whistled through the bare branches, and condensation from the Thames River froze to the iron-barred window.
On November 16, 1987, Baron Constantin awoke on a wooden plank bed in London City Thirteen Prison, preparing to face his trial at the Britain Prole Court.
Three days ago, he was still a sharply dressed, ordinary bank collector working for Sheffield Industrial Bank.
His current disaster had all started on the day he received a collection assignment from Miss Alice.
That was also the first day Zhou Yike had transmigrated here.
...
「Three days prior.」
7:04 AM, November 13, 1987.
By piecing together information from the books on the shelf and the documents on the desk, Zhou Yike learned that his current name was Baron Constantin, born in Worlington Town on the Mersey Riverfront in Cheshire, England, and a graduate of a public high school.
He would turn 22 this Christmas, had an older brother and a younger sister, and was currently employed at Sheffield Industrial Bank in Birmingham Old Town—a recently hired bank collector.
Weekly salary: 107 British Pounds.
Work started at 8:00 AM sharp.
To avoid revealing the differences between himself and the body’s original owner to any acquaintances, he decided to go to the bank and ask for a few days off to familiarize himself with this world.
7:30 AM.
Zhou Yike bought a black coffee, no sugar, and a whole-wheat roll from the cafe downstairs, along with the latest issue of The Times.
7:48 AM.
In the taxi, Zhou Yike put down the newspaper and breathed a sigh of relief.
It was indeed a normal world.
No Magic or Fighting Spirit.
’A little relieved, a little disappointed, but that’s fine.’
"Sir, that’ll be three British Pounds," the taxi driver said, glancing in the rearview mirror at the pale young man with black hair and dark eyes.
Zhou Yike felt his pockets.
’This is bad.’
...
Sheffield Industrial Bank Birmingham Branch, Administrative Manager’s Office.
"Mr. Constantine, you’re fired."
Her silver hair was woven into a long fishtail braid that fell over her right shoulder. Beneath her glasses were light-gray irises, and the fine wrinkles at the corners of her eyes proved her a beauty touched by time.
Lady Eleanor pushed up her gold-rimmed glasses, haughtily pronouncing Zhou Yike’s financial death sentence.
’Fired? Does that mean I’m unemployed now?’
Panting for breath, Zhou Yike wondered how things had gone south so quickly.
"According to Miss Alice’s work log, this is already your fifth request for leave this month. We have no more vacation days to approve for you."
Lady Eleanor picked up a stack of documents from her desk. "Your personal collection accounts for last month and this month are overdue by a total of five thousand pounds. Moreover, Mr. Pelton and Mrs. Jones, for whom you acted as a loan guarantor, died the night before last—one from organ failure, the other from suffocation via respiratory blockage. They owed approximately 2,000 and 3,000 pounds each in principal plus interest."
"I must say, this is a bad debt for the bank. Their expenditures were mainly on medical treatments and living expenses; they had no ability to repay the loans at all.
I don’t know why you guaranteed their loans in the first place, nor how you managed to persuade the risk assessor in the loan application department... Perhaps, in some respects, this indicates you have excellent eloquence and public speaking skills, but it ends here."
Lady Eleanor said coolly, "After careful consideration, the personnel department has unanimously concluded that you are not competent enough to handle the responsibilities of a collector. We have decided to terminate your employment.
You don’t need to come in tomorrow. I will have Alice mail your severance pay and unemployment paperwork to you."
Her glasses cast a harsh white glare under the pale yellow light of the lamp. Lady Eleanor spoke with her head tilted, never once looking Zhou Yike directly in the eye.
It was easy to imagine how poorly she thought of the original Baron.
Zhou Yike calmly accepted this outcome, said his thanks, and turned to leave, which made even Lady Eleanor give him a second look.
"Excuse me, sorry to interrupt."
Someone knocked on the office door.
The secretary, Miss Alice, stood at the door, holding a pile of documents.
She was a gentle girl in a chiffon dress. Lustrous golden hair tumbled down to her graceful waist, and her eyes were the color of the sky, her dark pupils like specks against the brilliant blue.
"Alice, my dear girl, what is it?"
Upon seeing Alice, the expression of Lady Eleanor, who had been scowling at Zhou Yike, softened.
Alice Rovira was the office secretary and also the daughter of Eleanor’s good friend.
"I have an assignment letter here that needs Mr. Constantine’s attention."
Alice smiled, a smile as bright as the blue sky.
...
"There’s a debtor in the Philip District of the Old Town with over ten thousand pounds in outstanding principal and interest. I imagine that before Lady Eleanor mails your termination papers to headquarters tomorrow morning, you should be able to close this account, Mr. Constantine."
In the terrazzo hallway, Miss Alice pressed a card into Zhou Yike’s hand:
"This is the debtor’s address. Go on, Mr. Constantine. Didn’t you once tell me that your sister wants to study at Edinburgh, and that you couldn’t afford to lose the job that would support her through university?"
She watched Zhou Yike with a smile, her azure eyes clear and bright, like mirrors.
’The original owner’s diary did seem to mention that,’ Zhou Yike thought. ’Refusing now would only arouse suspicion.’
’Besides, judging by the size and location of my apartment, not to mention the state of my pockets this morning, the original Baron’s financial situation was clearly dire.’
After a moment of thought, Zhou Yike tucked the card into the inner pocket of his suit. "Thank you."
"Well then, see you tomorrow. I’ll be waiting for your good news, Mr. Constantine."
Alice smiled and gave him a gesture of encouragement before turning back into the office, the sway of her skirt brimming with youthful enthusiasm.
...
At 11:24 AM, Zhou Yike arrived promptly in the designated Philip District, carrying his briefcase.
Because he had no money in his pockets, he had jogged the entire way.
The original owner’s body was in good shape. He was only slightly out of breath after a thirty-minute journey. No wonder the taxi driver couldn’t catch him this morning when he’d skipped out on the fare.
"506 Westin Street. This is it."
After some searching and asking for directions, guided by a young lady in a white cloche hat, he finally stood before a detached, Victorian-style villa.
Red bricks, pointed arches, dark roof tiles. Ivy grew wild on the gables, curling beneath the white-paned windows as if waiting to wither.
Several bouquets of golden irises were visible on the windowsill. This type of flower loved warmth and sunlight and bloomed between April and May. They shouldn’t have been able to survive in the United Kingdom at this time of year, yet here they were, blooming splendidly.
The door plate indeed read "506 Westin Street." Zhou Yike confirmed he hadn’t come to the wrong place.
The original Baron’s work diary mentioned that some wealthy people also liked to take out bank loans, so Zhou Yike wasn’t surprised that the debtor lived in such an old and seemingly luxurious villa.
Zhou Yike mentally rehearsed his speech, cleared his throat at the door, and repeatedly went over the conversational techniques from the original Baron’s work diary, trying to think just as the original would have.
"Baron Constantin" finally rang the doorbell.
DING-A-LING.
The sound of clacking footsteps descended from the floor above.
The sound was crisp, like high heels on the floor.
’So the debtor is a lady, not a gentleman?’
The door was pulled open. Baron froze. The "Good day, Lady Dragoon, allow me to introduce myself..." that he had been mentally preparing for so long dissipated like steam from a steamboat on the Thames River years ago.
A giant, golden, slitted pupil stared back at him.
The owner of the slitted pupil was a dragon—a Red Dragon from Western mythology, with magnificent horns and enormous wings, a creature that often appeared in legends.
Baron’s heart skipped a beat.
’There are dragons in this world?’
’What am I supposed to do when I meet a dragon?’
The original Baron’s work diary stated that when talking to a new debtor, one should use humor to praise a particularly conspicuous or prominent feature:
If it’s a custom tie, praise how well it matches his suit. If it’s a feathered hat, compliment her beautiful face (original’s note: as long as it’s a lady, just praise her beauty, regardless of what clothes, hat, or jewelry she’s wearing).
But what was one supposed to say to a Giant Dragon whose eye alone was bigger than the door?
With the calmness and meticulousness honed by his work in his past life, Baron smiled and said:
"Respected Lady Dragoon, please allow me to introduce myself."
He flicked out the collapsible cane that the original Baron always kept in his coat, tapping it rhythmically on the ground until it finally hit the doorframe. His vacant eyes stared directly at the slitted pupil.
"Baron Constantin, a representative from Sheffield Industrial Bank, at your service."
Baron gave a slight bow to the golden, slitted pupil.
He said, "I may be a blind man, but my heart is not."
...
[Excerpt from the Work Diary of Baron Constantin (Original):
July 8, 1987 / Birmingham / Weather: Overcast
I learned a profound lesson today. Sometimes it’s better to be blind in the eyes than blind in the heart. From now on, I’ll keep a collapsible cane with me and pretend to be blind.
On a side note, I’m grateful for Mr. Pelton’s help today. He’s a good man. He helped me get out of a false accusation of harassment from a lady on the bus today.
(Scribbled and corrected, obviously added later.)
In fact, I had no intentions toward that lady at all. To be honest, I have no intentions toward any lady in Birmingham.
Because I only love Kristen.]