Chapter 39: Day Pass Privilege [Why Should I Explain Withdrawing My Own Money?]
The vast conference room of Gold Mountain fell into a profound silence.
But it wasn't the kind of silence laced with indignation like "How dare he!" or "Does he know who we are?!" No, it was more like the satisfied hush of a professor who found a student's answer so perfect that no corrections were needed.
"Exactly, exactly. It's your money, after all—no need to tell us a thing."
"Gold is value-neutral, after all."
The organization that held more gold than any other on the continent. No wonder they called it Gold Mountain.
They never projected values or ideologies onto money. Money was money, and gold was gold.
"Thank you for the confirmation, Ilka Pavola. As you said, Gold Mountain does not interfere in our clients' personal affairs in the slightest. However, please note that for secrecy, we will deduct 0.25% of the withdrawal amount—750,000 gold—as a storage fee."
"Of course."
Depositing money at a bank only to have it shrink upon withdrawal. 750,000 gold was an amount a wealthy merchant in the Free City Alliance would have to save for two or three years without spending a single coin to even touch.
Yet the moderator delivering the policy and Ilka accepting it both did so with utter composure.
"The withdrawal review per conference regulations ends here. Those in attendance, please place your hand on the crystal orb before you to indicate your approval or disapproval."
Hummm!—
Hands from Gold Mountain's board of directors began resting one by one on the crystal orb displaying Ilka's image.
Some hands were rough enough to belong to fishermen or farmers, while others looked as if they'd never touched a drop of water—soft and pristine.
A place where anyone who proved their ability could aim for the top. Was that why? The crystal orb glowed uniformly in a single color.
"Ilka Pavola's withdrawal of 300 million gold via unlimited check has been unanimously approved by all attending board members."
Thud! Thud! Thud!
The golden gavel signaled the end of the meeting.
With headquarters' approval secured, Ilka would receive 60,000 platinum coins, checks totaling 24 million gold, and 12 promissory notes dividing the remaining 270 million gold.
"Thank you for the swift processing."
"It is our honor to continue transacting with you, Ilka Pavola. We look forward to our next deal together. Ending crystal communication."
Hiss—
With a sound like a kettle boiling over on the coffee warmer, Ilka's image vanished.
"This board meeting convened today is now adjourned. Thank you all for your diligent participation despite the sudden summons."
The moderator bowed politely, gathered the crystal orb, and exited.
Only then did the Gold Mountain directors break into clusters, chatting animatedly.
"Ilka Pavola... that's gotta be the one from back in the day, right? The Anti-Empire Alliance or was it the Kingdom Alliance?"
"Has to be. The guy who rewrote the continent's history on skipping out on debts. No wonder 'Life is like Ilka Pavola' became a catchphrase among prime ministers everywhere for a while."
"Ah, I've heard of that too. Back when I was at an outer branch, everyone I met asked if I knew Ilka Pavola."
But none of the chatter in the conference room dwelled on the 300 million gold itself. To them, it was just a number on—or soon to be on—the ledger.
"There hasn't been external pressure like that since. The kings and nobles who got burned proper went berserk, raiding the last Gold Mountain branch he'd dealt with to track him down."
"Hmph! What could those silver-spoon brats do? Being born with a good leash is their life's greatest achievement."
"Hey now. Aren't those the very customers who love our loan products?"
"Whoops! You're right. Looks like I've got a long way to go as a banker."
Hahaha!
"Speaking of... that standing auto-transfer Ilka Pavola's been doing steadily?"
"What about it?"
"Isn't that just pouring water into a leaky jar? The groups receiving it... they're so-called independence outfits, but they've half-abandoned their original goals ages ago."
Ding!
As the directors clinked gold coins in jest, the magic stone elevator arrived.
"According to intel from the delinquency collection team, yeah. But that's not our concern, is it? From our perspective, the longer a controllable war drags on, the better."
"True enough. Hey, since your ship's canceled, care to join me for a meal? They're serving seaweed soup at Soyya today."
"Oho... hard to resist that. Let's go!"
The conference room emptied, leaving only the green-glowing crystal orbs to fade into dimness.
* * *
What is money, anyway...?
Listening to the crystal communication from those whose sense of economics was utterly broken, Suhwa Romanov sank into serious contemplation.
Ilka, who demanded they not ask why he was withdrawing 300 million gold. Gold Mountain, which calmly tacked on 750,000 gold as a secrecy fee.
"You've worked hard, Ilka Pavola. The requested amount is being prepared with top priority—thank you for your patience."
With headquarters' approval confirmed and his responsibility lifted, Hans Goldcoin, the deputy branch manager, had regained his full leisure.
Suhwa couldn't stop thinking they lived in a different world from his own.
"You've worked hard too, Deputy Branch Manager."
"Nonsense. Oh, right! For the payee or institution on the promissory notes you've issued?"
"Suhwa Romanov—make it the gentleman right beside me."
Hans Goldcoin's pupils shifted to coin-like shapes as his eyes turned to Suhwa.
"Oho! Looks like the young man has quite the business acumen. Pulling off an investment this massive. Care to drop even a tiny hint on the venture...?"
He had no choice but to assume it was an investment. Who else would issue 270 million gold in promissory notes without so much as a contract?
"Well, it's a business... sort of. I offered Ilka something money couldn't buy."
"That's one tough hint! Hahaha!"
"Is it? Ahaha!"
Intoxicated by the scale of 300 million, both Suhwa and Hans were more upbeat than usual.
As the coffee aftertaste faded from Ilka's relaxed smile,
Knock knock!—
"Deputy Branch Manager, it's Elsa. The funds are fully prepared."
"Oh! Thanks. Well then, shall we?"
60,000 platinum coins and six ornate chests to hold them. Two 10-million-gold checks, four 1-million-gold checks, and twelve promissory notes for 22.5 million gold each.
"Please verify the checks and notes first, then sign here."
"Understood."
Ilka's expression sharpened unlike ever before. His once-lush beard now resembled steel wool.
"Yes. Amounts, terms, and payee all check out. Signed."
"Thank you. Next, the 60,000 platinum coins."
Clap clap!
At Hans's light clap, teller staff in pristine gloves emerged carrying what looked like water dispensers.
"Latest model coin counter from Moribwe. It counts platinum in lots of 1,000 and loads them into the chests..."
"Ten thousand."
"Pardon?"
"Lots of 1,000 means sixty batches. If you and Ilka don't mind, Deputy Branch Manager, how about tens of thousands—six batches?"
"Ah, yes. Of course. That's actually easier for us too, haha..."
"If the Vice Warden suggests it, no reason to object. I'm fine with it."
Clatter!
Platinum coins from the sacks poured into the funnel and into the counter.
—A bold and excellent suggestion, Vice Warden. No wonder the pigeons took notice.
—To match Ilka tossing platinum at ballet horses, I've got a long way to go. Ahahaha!
Suhwa and Ilka's back-and-forth laughter drowned in the counter's whir.
The money-devouring hippo finally paused on its first batch.
"10,000 platinum coins counted. Please verify."
"Yes, looks correct."
"Thank you. Loading into the first chest."
No wonder they were VIP tellers—the 10,000 coins vanished into the chest in the blink of an eye.
After five identical repetitions,
six chests stuffed with platinum sat before Suhwa and Ilka.
"Each chest has to weigh around 50kg, right?"
"Back in my youth, I could've lifted that blindfolded... hmm, Vice Warden, already backing out?"
"Heh. Not that—just saying we should care for our backs while they're still healthy."
Hans, chuckling at their banter, lifted a chest.
With one hand.
While Suhwa gaped, Ilka beamed and clapped.
"Wow~ Age brings the glow of consistent self-care. Vice Warden, take notes?"
"That's beyond self-care territory, isn't it?"
Was it solidarity among those racing toward life's twilight? Even Ilka, who'd teased Suhwa, changed expression as Hans lifted another chest with his other hand.
"Haha, self-care matters, of course. But modern magic tools are miracles too. These chests use cutting-edge magecraft to reduce internal weight to one-hundredth."
"Live long and learn... Is the effect permanent?"
"Haha, no such luck. See the magic stone inside? Once its energy depletes, the weight reduction ends."
Satisfied with their reactions, Hans helped the VIP staff load the chests onto the carriage.
"We deeply appreciate your visit to the Gold Mountain Manrmursk branch today. We eagerly await future transactions."
With the deputy manager's hale farewell, Suhwa and Ilka boarded the carriage.
* * *
"The carriage feels heavier coming back than going, right? Not just imagination?"
"Weight-wise, the magic tools handle it per the deputy manager. Just psychological. You'll get used to it, Vice Warden."
Get used to it...
Suhwa couldn't easily imagine himself accustomed to 300 million gold.
As he felt the checks in his bosom and the platinum's weight in the carriage hold,
Clop clop!
Two Manrmursk guards approached the carriage.
"Good work. Routine inspection. IDs, please."
"Ah, sure. One moment."
Suhwa pulled out his Utopia warden badge; Ilka, his Day Pass certificate from his pocket.
"You should've seen the warden's face when he signed your Day Pass, Vice Warden."
"His grin probably reached his ears."
Suhwa tucked away their documents and handed them to the guards.
I wonder how guards take a 'Day Pass' certificate—the contradiction in 'daily' and 'escape'...
As Suhwa pondered seriously, the guards finished checking and returned the papers.
Only Ilka's Day Pass certificate.
"Suhwa Romanov, Vice Warden of Utopia. You'll need to come with us."
"Pardon?"
The guards, now donning helmets, fixed sharp glares on him.