Building a Conglomerate in Another World

A huge gamble was made in Fitzwilliam estate, and Matthew has no intention of losing that bet. As soon as their hands shook, he already knew where he needed to go. 

But first, he needed money to hire an exploration team. And the best place to get that money is from a bank.

Leaving the estate, Matthew got into the car and started the engine. As he waited for the engine to warm up a little, he glanced out of the window and stared at the mansion. It was unfortunate that he didn't get to see Amber. He had invited her to a dinner and he hadn't told her when it was going to be. 

Well maybe another time when they run into one another.

He drove off the mansion and headed straight to one of the reputable banks of Sylvania, Fitzwilliam Banking Company.

Yes, that was right, Mr. Fitzwilliam was a banker who had earned his fortune through a series of investment and profitable acquisitions. It had branches nationwide and abroad and the top one in the country. And since he was somehow related to Mr. Fitzwilliam, getting a loan there should be easy.

Matthew parked his automobile at the curbside in front of the imposing stone facade of the Fitzwilliam Banking Company. As always, the sight of his vehicle drew curious stares from passersby. A small crowd gathered, whispering and pointing, clearly fascinated by the machine that moved without the aid of horses. Matthew paid them little mind; he had more pressing matters to attend to.

He stepped out of the car, adjusting his coat against the chilly breeze, and made his way up the steps to the bank's entrance. The heavy wooden doors creaked as he pushed them open, revealing a grand interior. Polished marble floors, ornate chandeliers, and columns that reached up to the high ceilings, typical design of the era.

Approaching the main desk, Matthew was greeted by a well-dressed clerk who looked up from his paperwork with a polite but curious expression.

"Good afternoon, sir. How may I assist you today?" the clerk asked, adjusting his round spectacles.

"I'd like to inquire about obtaining a loan," Matthew said, keeping his tone confident. 

The clerk raised an eyebrow, his gaze flickering briefly to Matthew's somewhat disheveled appearance from the drive. "A loan, you say? May I ask the amount you are seeking?"

"Ten thousand florins," Matthew replied without hesitation. It was a substantial sum, but he needed it to fund the initial phase of his oil exploration venture. He was betting everything on this, and he needed to move quickly.

The clerk's eyes widened slightly, though he quickly regained his composure. "That is quite a significant amount, sir. If you would please take a seat, I will fetch the loan officer for you."

Matthew nodded and took a seat in one of the plush leather chairs near the entrance. 

A few moments later, a well-dressed man in a tailored suit approached. He had the air of someone who was accustomed to dealing with large sums of money and high-stakes negotiations.

"Good afternoon, sir. I am Mr. Whitmore, the loan officer. I understand you are interested in acquiring a loan?" the man said, extending a hand.

"Yes, I am," Matthew replied, shaking the offered hand firmly. "My name is Matthew Hesh."

"Please, follow me to my office," Whitmore said, leading Matthew down a corridor lined with portraits of past bank directors. They reached a richly furnished office, where Whitmore gestured for Matthew to take a seat.

"So, Mr. Hesh," Whitmore began, settling into his chair behind an expansive mahogany desk. "You are seeking a loan of ten thousand florins. That is quite a substantial amount. May I inquire about the purpose of this loan?"

Matthew took a deep breath, knowing this was the moment he had to sell his vision. "I plan to fund an oil exploration venture. I've secured a partnership with Mr. Fitzwilliam himself, who has agreed to invest once I strike oil. This loan will cover the initial expenses of setting up a drilling site."

Whitmore's eyebrows rose at the mention of Mr. Fitzwilliam. "I see. Mr. Fitzwilliam's name certainly carries weight in this city, as he is my boss. Is it okay if I call Mr. Fitzwilliam to confirm that you are acquainted with him? You know what will happen if you claim something you aren't right?"

"Very well," Whitmore replied, a hint of skepticism in his eyes. He reached for the black telephone on his desk.

Matthew kept his composure, leaning back in his chair. He knew he had nothing to worry about; after all, Mr. Fitzwilliam had shaken his hand on their agreement.

After a few moments, the line connected, and Whitmore spoke in a polite yet formal tone. "Good afternoon, this is Whitmore from the Fitzwilliam Banking Company. May I speak with Mr. Fitzwilliam, please? It's regarding a matter of some urgency."

Finally, Whitmore nodded, and his tone shifted. "Ah, Mr. Fitzwilliam, good day to you, sir. I'm calling to confirm whether you are acquainted with a Mr. Matthew Hesh. He's here requesting a loan, and he claims to have entered into a business agreement with you."

Matthew could hear the faint murmuring of Fitzwilliam's voice on the other end, though he couldn't make out the words. He kept his gaze steady, watching Whitmore's expression for any hint of how the conversation was going.

Whitmore's eyes widened slightly, and his tone became more respectful. "Yes, sir, I understand. Thank you for confirming that. I will proceed accordingly." With that, he hung up the receiver and turned his attention back to Matthew.

"It seems you weren't bluffing, Mr. Hesh," Whitmore said with a thin smile, though his eyes now held a glimmer of newfound respect. "Mr. Fitzwilliam confirmed your partnership and spoke quite highly of your venture. I apologize for the earlier skepticism, but you understand we have to be thorough in our due diligence."

"Of course," Matthew replied smoothly, inclining his head. "I would expect nothing less."

"Very well, let's proceed with your loan application. Since Mr. Fitzwilliam has vouched for you, we can expedite the process. Just fill out this form here."

Matthew took the pen that Whitmore offered him and began filling out the loan application form.

After a few tense minutes, Matthew finally signed the bottom of the form and slid it back across the polished mahogany desk toward Whitmore.

"Thank you, Mr. Hesh," Whitmore said, taking the form and quickly scanning its contents. He made a few marks with his own pen, double-checking the details before nodding in approval.

"Everything seems to be in order," Whitmore confirmed, looking up at Matthew with a slight smile. "Now, the only question remains — would you prefer the funds to be disbursed in cash or as a check?"

Matthew thought for a moment. A check would be safer, but given the urgency of his situation, he needed immediate access to the funds. "I'll take the amount in cash," he replied confidently. "I have several immediate expenses to cover."

"Very well."

Whitmore picked up his telephone once more, dialing a number and speaking.

"This is Whitmore. Prepare ten thousand florins in cash for disbursement. Yes, right away."

Turning back to Matthew, he said, "It will take a few minutes to prepare that amount. In the meantime, would you like a coffee or tea while you wait?"

"No, thank you," Matthew replied.

Whitmore nodded and gestured for Matthew to follow him back to the waiting area. 

"If you'll take a seat, Mr. Hesh, we'll have your funds brought out shortly."

Matthew settled into one of the leather chairs, and waited patiently.

After a few moments, a clerk appeared carrying a small wooden chest bound with iron locks. He set it on the desk in front of Whitmore, who produced a set of keys and opened it, revealing stacks of florins bundled neatly in rows.

After a few moments, a clerk appeared carrying a small wooden chest bound with iron locks. He set it on the desk in front of Whitmore, who produced a set of keys and opened it, revealing stacks of florins bundled neatly in rows.

"Here you are, Mr. Hesh," Whitmore said, turning the chest toward Matthew. "Ten thousand florins, as requested. Please, take a moment to verify the amount."

Matthew nodded, quickly checking through the stacks. Satisfied, he closed the chest and locked it with the provided key, which he slipped into his coat pocket.

"Thank you, Mr. Whitmore," Matthew said, extending his hand once more. "I appreciate the expedited service."

"Best of luck with your venture, Mr. Hesh," Whitmore replied, shaking his hand firmly. "We look forward to seeing the results of your efforts."