NOVEL NEXT Chapter 39: 39. Back Home
The rays of sun cast a brilliant glow over the not-so-lively streets. Zach sat on a bench, soaking in the warmth of the sun.
He was sitting on a bench on the sidewalk, cradling a cup of something called lime juice.
Zach didn't know what it was, but the therapist back at rehab said something about lime juice boosting brain recovery, whatever that meant.
Zach sniffed the cup with an intense stare—he sipped then immediately grimaced.
"Pffftt... what the!" Zach nearly spilled the liquid in his hands.
The liquid looked clear as water, yet it tasted like the water was fighting against his taste buds.
And this glass of lime juice was worth two silver coins.
Zach just used the money Alfred left for him to purchase it.
Zach gave the cup an intense look, but he couldn't just throw it away.
"It's healthy, anyways. Just think of it as a super bitter healing elixir," Zach pressed his lips.
He chugged down the bitter liquid, grimacing at the end of it.
"Finally, that's over." He crumpled up the cup and tossed it into a nearby bin before walking into the huge building by the side of the road.
The bank wasn't packed; it only had people in black robes walking about, all seekers.
The Central Bank wasn't a place where you could just get money from; their main headquarters was located in the highest realm, so Zach went to a nearby branch.
"Hello, kid, are you lost?" The receptionist, a black-haired lady, scanned Zach from head to toe.
Zach just rolled his eyes; this wasn't the first time he was getting looked down upon.
"I want to register a new bank account," Zach stated, placing his hand on the counter.
"For what?"
The lady glanced at him even more intensely now.
"Huh..."
Zach didn't know that questions were asked. Why do they need a reason to give Zach a bank account?
"For business purposes," Zach spoke as he stuffed his hands into his pocket, rummaging through the contents.
He placed Alfred's business card on the counter. The lady, a neatly dressed woman in a work uniform, looked him up and down before typing something on the keyboard in front of her.
"Sir, you can wait in the waiting room. This is going to take a while."
Zach complied, sitting on a chair in the reception area.
He sat there in silence for a couple of minutes, then the receptionist walked over to him.
"Your bank account is ready," she stated, handing him a black card with golden lines that read "VIP."
Zach had a VIP bank card.
"Oh, thank you."
"If you ever need anything, housing services, production, or any issues, please call us. Our number is on the bottom left of your card. Thank you."
He stood up, leaving the large building.
"That didn't take long..."
Now that Zach was kind of free, he was unsure what to do.
He had to tap his phone a few times before it turned on.
He called Alfred; the man on the other end of the phone was delighted.
"So, what's your account number?"
"My account number...?"
Alfred sighed...
"You know, the number that's written on your card."
"Oh, that!"
Zach called out the numbers, and his phone rang.
A message from the bank: "You have been credited with 100,000 gold. Your main balance is 100,000 gold coins, 0 silver coins, and 0 bronze coins."
Zach had a bright smile on his face.
Finally, they were rich.
Zach stood on the clean roads of District 589, pondering.
Zach got off the cab and stepped into his neighborhood. He looked around; the ragged grounds struck such familiarity.
"Finally..." he sighed.
"I'm home."
He took a detour into his neighborhood. He walked into his alleyway, with pipes steaming above.
The damage caused by it a few weeks ago had been repaired, and the house was looking a lot nicer.
"The government probably offered to pay the damage."
Zach knew his landlord was incapable of doing such a thing.
That man couldn't even repair the broken pipes.
"I told you I don't want to see you here..." a grumpy old man's voice interrupted Zach's train of thought. He took a turn, and in front of his residence, there was a black-haired, grey-eyed man kneeling in front of the landlord.
"I told you I'll give you the rent this month, so please be patient with me. My job just recently picked up. I promise we'll pay what we owe," he cried.
Zach pressed his lips against each other.
"Zain...?"
That person was none other than his brother.
Zach walked up to the duo.
The landlord's gaze trailed off to Zach.
"Oh... here comes the liability," he said, not even bothering to filter his words.
"I actually feel sorry for your family. You guys would've been living in a higher district if you hadn't used up all your resources to train this thing in school." He gestured at Zach.
"Now look at him, unable to provide rent for his family. It's quite sad, really." The grump sneered.
Zach's eyes met Zain's; his calm brother looked a lot like Zach, but the only difference was he looked a lot more mature with a beard.
Zain's eyes brightened up when he saw Zach's figure.
Zach wore a bitter smile as Zain stood up, running toward Zach.
In a warm embrace, Zain wrapped his arms around Zach in a death grip.
"You haven't called for months! I thought something terrible had happened to you," he cried.
Zach just side-glanced at him.
"I tried to call you a few months ago, but you weren't picking up your calls. I had to assume the worst."
The grumpy old man behind them rolled his eyes.
"Family reunion... how touching." He sarcastically stated.
Zain turned to the landlord.
Zach held a smile on his face as he grabbed his brother's arm.
"We really don't need to beg this old fart anymore. Just look at his house," Zach gestured to the entire building.
"This place is gone, poof. The house is well on its way to retirement."
Zain and the landlord looked at Zach like he had just committed a war crime against humanity.
"What did you say, boy!!" Mark, the landlord, gritted his teeth.
Zach grinned.
"I know you're not deaf. You heard me clearly."