The Banker Who Sees Potential
The interviewers hadn't expected that answer, but I had no regrets. Even if it was a pointless stunt in a situation where hiring was all but guaranteed, my mind felt clear.
"We'll notify you of the results via text in two weeks."
After the interview wrapped up, I took the envelope containing two 50,000-won bills and headed quickly to the elevator. As I pushed through the revolving door on the first floor and glanced back absentmindedly, the familiar sign of a regular bank had replaced the one I knew. I went back inside, but the Dimensional Credit Vault lobby was gone.
It wasn't like I'd been possessed by a ghost. I was holding an envelope with 100,000 won inside, and the logo on it was unmistakably the Dimensional Credit Vault's.
"Well, if I get in, they'll call."
All that was left was to wait for the results. If this brush with the extraordinary ended as just that, it simply meant it wasn't meant to be.
I went to my landlord, politely handed over 50,000 won, and begged for a few more days. Then, to shake off the rust from my hospitalized body, I hustled around construction sites to earn money and pay my back rent.
By then, whether I'd passed the interview or not didn't matter anymore. A small but powerful engine had taken root inside me. There was a bank that had called out the me who used to draw unsellable caricatures. That fact taught me I could forge a new relationship with the world in a way I'd never tried before.
Even if I failed, it was fine. I had the strength to walk any path now.
To avoid obsessing over the hiring announcement, I kept myself busy running around, and two weeks flew by in the blink of an eye. Then came November 1st, a Monday. I woke early, showered, and shaved. I dried my hair, changed into my suit, sat in a chair, placed my smartphone on the desk, and waited motionlessly for the vibration.
I sat there ramrod straight for a full hour.
With a creeeak, the semi-basement studio window opened for the first time in a week. Raw sunlight poured in.
November 1, 2021. Monday. Clear.
I had become a banker.
Three months later.
"We will now proceed with the presentation of credentials for the new bankers."
After the bank anthem, the new hires ascended the stage one by one, drawing the focused gazes of the senior bankers. This was the basement first floor auditorium of the Dimensional Credit Vault headquarters. Today was the day the recruits who had completed three months of intensive training received their appointment letters and badges.
They were all top talents from the second half of 2021's public and special recruitments—or most of them were. Except for one: a caricature artist with no specs or career squeezed in among them.
"Next, Kim Jian."
Five special hires with no experience, derisively called the "parachute quintet" by the public recruits. And the first to receive a badge from the executive vice president was...
"Yes."
Yeah. Me.
"Your training scores weren't bad at all."
"Thank you."
The executive vice president smiled warmly like a kind uncle and extended his hand. While he offered light words of encouragement to the public recruits, he made a point of mentioning my training performance and giving me his full attention. The reason was obvious.
"You'll have to prove the branch manager's judgment in bringing you here was right. I'll be watching."
The old man flashed a complex smile—equal parts warmth and scrutiny—as he pinned the badge to my jacket lapel, lowering his voice.
"I still can't wrap my head around it. What can a mere money-changer do in a bank?"
I'd never even seen the branch manager's face, but everyone around treated me like a parachute drop. Circumstantially, he had pulled me into the bank, so I couldn't deny it—but how long had he been watching me to talk like that?
"I'll figure out what I can do here step by step."
"I get that you live without much thought, so let's leave it—"
"But I can tell you why I accepted the branch manager's favor."
I stared straight ahead as I spoke, causing the vice president—who had been approaching my special-hire colleague—to pause and turn back.
"...Let's hear it."
"The pay's good."
"Hm..."
The vice president nodded with a meaningful expression at my answer.
"I hope you're worth that much."
"I'll do my best."
That salary had tempted me enough to run laps, climb mountains, and master theory and systems for three straight months. No way I could screw up and get fired now.
"Next, Mira Levrier—"
The vice president pinned badges on the other four special hires with rehearsed smiles and stepped down from the stage.
A dark elf with a cute, small-animal vibe. A long-haired angel with a halo and wings of light. A bipedal lizardman with an intellectual air. And a bundle of blue tentacles in a suit.
"This concludes the 2021 Dimensional Credit Vault second-half new banker credential presentation ceremony."
The employees in the audience rose, erupting in thunderous applause. Most of them looked nothing like humans, just like my colleagues and the vice president.
"Finally getting thrown into the field. Took long enough."
Three months ago, the sight might have terrified me, but now it was familiar.
Dimensional Credit Vault. A vault safeguarding the funds entrusted by gods, operating and lending them across dimensions—an ultramassive bank. I was the first and only Earthling working there.
"Oppa, why're you spacing out? The meat's gonna get cold."
The chill of the glass bottle against my cheek snapped me out of my reverie. The culprit was my special-hire colleague, Mira. The self-proclaimed 25-year-old—three years younger than me—was a dark elf with neatly braided blonde hair, brown skin, and long pointed ears.
She'd started with formal "Mr. Jian" and "Ms. Mira," but during training, she'd asked me to drop the honorifics first, turning us into oppa-dongsaeng.
"Slept late last night, so..."
This was a barbecue joint in Dimension 6-2, home to the Dimensional Credit Vault HQ. Around the table: me, the dark elf, the tentacle creature who wore "primitive" like a badge, and the angel saying grace. We'd finished training successfully and gathered for a party among colleagues, but I couldn't exactly say I'd been reminiscing about my struggling days, so I mumbled vaguely.
"Right, you and Isaac are starting at branches, yeah? Reviewing training stuff kept you up late?"
"Something like that."
Not a lie. I'd actually stayed up till 3 a.m. taking notes on personnel development department videos of practical theory lectures.
From deposits safeguarding customer funds, to loans lending them out, to foreign exchange handling currencies from various dimensions and nations. Field bankers juggled diverse tasks, demanding broad knowledge.
Unlike the other three assigned to HQ, the lizardman Isaac and I had to head to branches, so we needed theory memorized cold. Thinking about clinging to those videos even after deployment already gave me a headache.
"It'll be tough, but in a few years, you might climb to HQ corporate clients or loan review after a big branch."
"The ace path... Sounds cool."
"Easier said than done. I'm happy just not getting fired."
A college dropout like me with no quals landing a banking job at 6,500 starting pay? Impossible back in Korea. Even top Korean banks barely topped 5,000. Starting treatment this generous? Race didn't matter—salary hitting the account meant giving my all.
"Huh?"
Mid-thought, I glanced at the side plate. The piled skirt steak from moments ago was gone. Looking around suspiciously, Mira was staring off elsewhere, pretending innocence.
"Hey."
"......"
Her chewing gave her away.
"No cold noodles for you today. Or kimchi noodles."
"It's your fault for letting it sit and cool! The meat was lonely!"
She hurriedly tonged a heap of perfectly grilled shrimp onto my plate from the grill.
"Tch. Anyway."
Dipped in sauce, one bite. The heavily marbled beef—unthinkable before employment—coated my tongue in fat.
"Reptilian organisms getting along nicely."
A sunken baritone interrupted my savoring. The emotionless voice from an unseen vocal organ came from the tentacle mass across from me.
"I've said it a few times already: these are arms, not legs."
"Either way, it means your evolution's incomplete. Like lower lifeforms."
"Ah! That was seriously discriminatory against dark elves. Take it back!"
"Shut it, darkie."
He seemed hopelessly nasty for daily life, but he'd become a close special-hire colleague during training: Oatanocha. Reasons to hate him abounded, yet Mira and I ate with him anyway. Why?
"Rationing, mammalian primate."
Oatanocha's five tentacles wielded tongs with precision, piling meat onto my and Mira's plates.
This time, pink salt dip. One bite—better than the shrimp.
"Core temp 55 degrees, moisture loss under 4%. Perfect medium rare."
"What, your awakened Job Authority checks temp and moisture? Measure your CPU heat or server humidity instead?"
"Calling this a power? Primitive."
If there's a noblest pride in the world, it's gotta be meat pride. Annoying speech and attitude aside, Oatanocha took creepy-good care of people. Front and back didn't match, in a good way. Even during training, we'd hit him up late-night when convenience stores closed, and he'd hook us up.
"No meat for Irool?"
"Why waste on a guy who won't eat it anyway."
"Ah..."
The other special hire, audit newbie angel, was still praying head-down.
"My Lord, grant us this day our daily bread—"
A beautiful youth with long white hair tied midway. The halo floating above his crown and folded wings announced his origins.
He'd applied to audit thinking it meant "grateful praise," fainted from shock learning the truth at training camp, and went viral. Seemed he planned to tough it out in audit anyway.
"...Grace be unto us. I'll eat well!"
Confirming the halo vanished from behind Irool's head, Oatanocha piled his plate high with beef.
"This juiciness... I hear trumpets in my mind. Brother Oatanocha, your existence is a great blessing to all dimensions."
"Prayer exceeded estimate by 5 seconds. Juiciness loss increasing—shut up and eat."
"When do you eat?"
I asked, and Oatanocha let out a sinister chuckle.
"Planning to stuff you lot with cheap cuts, then hog the premium ones solo once perfectly grilled."
Irool froze mid-grin, chopsticks halting.
"Oppa, I can't tell if Oatanocha's nice or mean."
"Totally get it. Menu, please!"
No matter the bank job, as mostly fresh grads, we had reason to gorge on pricey beef. Training over, tomorrow we'd scatter to departments and branches. Buried in work soon, tonight confirmed colleague bonds with expensive eats.
"Worried I'd drop out midway at the start, but we survived."
"Yeah. Knew finance folks loved mountains, but daily runs and hikes...?"
Mira spoke, and Irool nodded with near-tears eyes.
"Didn't know the training camp was in Dimension 12, Olympus."
"Yeah, major shareholders live there—not just one or two."
Camp near the rich folks' hood meant morning hikes bowing to uncles and aunties. Hades walking Cerberus once pitied us, vending nectar—how absurd. All past now.
"Real deal starts tomorrow. Let's get serious."
We clinked glasses silently. Solemn at the real career launch? Resolve etched their faces.
"Let's not get looked down on by public hires."
"Can't stand tentacle-less punks acting superior."
Chopsticks paused after four grill flips, seven receipts stacked.
"Training food was decent, but real-world eats hit different."
"Sounds like an ex-con."
"No record."
Clock hit 9:30. Time to wrap.
"Won't see each other for a bit after tonight."
"We'll keep in touch."
"Hey, mammals. Who's paying?"
"Irool, go easy when auditing our branch."
"Embezzlement and breach? Immediate judgment..."
"Won't do it, relax."
"Who's paying, you lower lifeforms."
Angels get drunk too. News to me.
"Isaac totally no-showing?"
"Sent him a text earlier, oppa. Check replies?"
Mira spoke; I checked my phone. Message from Isaac.
"......"
Calls meat bad but lives on what? Reptile tastebuds maybe. Squeeze.
800,000 Gulden received!
Paid dinner, so credit. Some left—I'll save for next meetup. Not embezzling, budgeting.
"What'd Isaac say?"
"He's buying."
"Whoa, jackpot..."
"Upgrading wealthy reptile status."
Rode a 20m limo to interview—definite rich kid. How'd he end up banking?
"Time to head out. Prep for work."
"Sad, but yeah."
Wanna chat more, but as maknaes at HQ or branches, needed condition for first day. Send 'em home late, show tired faces to bosses? Disaster.
"I'll head out then."
Irool and Oatanocha taxied to HQ dorms.
"Haaah, so full... Jian oppa, text when home."
"Will do."
"Promise!"
Mira rode home with her mom who picked her up. Alone to branch dorm 8km from HQ, I rummaged my mess for a small blue box.
"Guess I'm a banker now."
Opening revealed the pure gold badge with the Dimensional Credit Vault's orange eye logo.
Scared it'd tarnish, kept it off lapel till debut, stored precious.
Dimensional Credit Vault managed gods' funds. Regular bankers with divine blessings wielded superpowers aiding work.
"Why so nervous over this."
One drop of blood on badge awakens Job Authority. Me, accepting other dimensions and races easily but otherwise bland—now this. Two-year lotto vet, but never wanted like this.
"Please, something useful..."
Badge elevates talent to superpower. What would mine be?
Deep breath, sterilized needle pricks left index fingertip lightly.
Drip.
Blood hit badge; blinding light filled the cramped living room. Light faded, eyes open: marble goddess statue holding bronze scales floated midair.
Simultaneously, Job Authority info flooded my mind. The awakened power was utterly unexpected, but one certainty hit.
"With this power—"
I can do it. Become the Dimensional Credit Vault's once-in-a-generation loan genius.