Chapter 157 “The Captain’s Big Purchase”
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Duncan was genuine in his claims. After parting ways with Shirley, he made his way to a store located near a junction to purchase a bicycle for Nina. This was not his only errand for the day, though. He also tackled something he had been procrastinating on for quite some time due to various reasons: setting up his own bank account.
He found himself inside the Pland City Bank, patiently waiting for a bank employee to hand him the final form. The waiting wasn’t particularly exciting. To pass the time and fend off boredom, Duncan found himself surveying the bank’s interior.
It was likely that the calm ambiance was due to it being a working day, as both upper and lower city residents weren’t flocking to the bank for their financial tasks. The bank’s lobby, which wasn’t very spacious to begin with, felt almost empty. Out of the five service counters, only two seemed active. Bank employees, dressed in sharp black uniforms, chatted idly behind the vacant counters. The overhead lights cast a soft glow on the glossy counters, creating a tranquil and cozy atmosphere.
Duncan’s attention was drawn upwards by the illuminating light, where he noticed a series of metal tubes extending from each counter to the ceiling. They stretched out like mini columns, seemingly connecting to rooms behind the main area. While he was unsure of their purpose, a consistent and muted clicking sound from below hinted at a machinery-driven system beneath the floor.
“Once you’ve ensured all details are accurate, please sign and affix your seal at the designated spot. The processing fee amounts to six soras and five pesos,” instructed the bank clerk as she handed over the form, pointing to the spot where Duncan was expected to sign.
Taking the form, Duncan tried to make sense of the banking jargon. Not being well-versed in this domain, he soon found himself puzzled by the complex terminologies. Nevertheless, he did his best to comprehend, signed the document, and handed it back with the required fee.
The clerk, without more than a cursory glance at the paper, positioned it within a sizable machine at her desk. She then placed the document inside a pre-arranged metal canister and promptly dispatched it through the mysterious pipes. Duncan’s ears were filled with the sounds of metal clanking, steam pressuring, and the swift movement of objects within the tubes. He even noticed one of the pipes quivering slightly at a curve as the container whisked away.
“Just a moment,” the clerk remarked nonchalantly. “If our steam-powered system is functioning smoothly and there are no hitches on the receiving end, you should have your receipt within the next thirty minutes. However, if you see a light flashing next to the tube, it means there’s a problem, and you’ll need to return tomorrow.”
Deep in thought, the man marveled at the technology around him. To his eyes, it might not epitomize efficiency, but given the constraints of this world—especially in the era of water—it was undeniably a testament to their advancement. Besides, there was a charm to waiting, particularly when he could discreetly listen in on the conversations of the employees. Their discussions, quite distinct from what one might hear on the city streets, gave him a candid glimpse into their world.
A younger female clerk, with an air of curiosity, shared, “I’ve heard whispers that the Truth Academy has been communicating with our head office. Apparently, there’s talk of introducing a new apparatus designed to boost the operational efficiency of the main office exponentially…”
An older clerk, seated just across from Duncan, responded with a knowing nod, “Ah, you mean the large sorting machine. Mok’s city-state bank has been benefiting from its services for a while now. Though there are smaller versions at the tax office and the Institute of Mathematics, I’ve heard tales of an even grander one housed within the main storm cathedral. It’s said to be unparalleled when it comes to archiving documents. Frankly, it’s about time our head office updated their machinery. The current one is perennially prone to malfunctions and is dreadfully sluggish.”
From another idle counter, a different clerk chimed in, adding a pragmatic angle to the conversation, “Well, the decision isn’t ours to make. Those machines aren’t just hefty in size but also on the bank’s purse strings. I mean, the number of steam cores required to manage the punching boxes alone could overwhelm this entire space.”
An animated back-and-forth followed, with one of the clerks sharing, “But there are murmurs that the Truth Academy is on the brink of unveiling a next-gen sorting device. Reportedly, it’s designed to be more compact yet equals the efficiency of its bulkier counterparts. The real kicker? It’s rumored to run on electricity rather than steam.”
“Electricity? Without the use of a steam core? But wouldn’t that make it vulnerable to malevolent spirits? Given the sheer volume of information it processes, I’d reckon it would be a magnet for dark entities within its mechanics, wouldn’t you think?”
Another clerk replied, half-jokingly, “Who’s to say? Perhaps their plan involves stationing a priest alongside the machine, constantly blessing and sanctifying its workings?”
The retort from the first clerk was almost immediate, “Sounds hardly practical, doesn’t it? While it might save space, it would necessitate the perpetual presence of a cleric.”
A jovial clerk interjected, “Oh, come on! Think about it. What occupies more space: a single priest or a massive steam core? Plus, have you any inkling about the skyrocketing real estate prices in the city center?”
It dawned on Duncan that irrespective of the world or era, office banter and gossip remained a universal constant. Engrossed in the candid exchanges of the bank clerks, which ranged from the intricacies of technological advancements to the quirks of real estate prices, he barely noticed the time whizzing by.
The chitchat among the clerks, revolving around the amusing debate of “which was pricier, property or a priest”, was abruptly halted. A resounding clang echoed from a nearby transmission pipe, immediately capturing everyone’s attention.
The clerk seated opposite Duncan promptly unsealed the pipe, revealing a stout metal cylinder nestled inside. This cylinder bore a marked difference from the one dispatched earlier. Its girth was more pronounced, and it was secured with a sophisticated lock. With a bit of finesse and the aid of a specific tool, the clerk managed to unlock and extract its contents.
A compact, palm-sized metal plate emerged—the front bore letters and symbols reminiscent of traditional bank cards. Intriguingly, the flip side was riddled with holes, mirroring the design of ancient punch cards familiar to Earth’s early computer systems.
Handing over the metal plate, the clerk explained, “This is your identification card. You can use it across all Pland banks and any affiliated branches under the Chamber of Commerce. Do note that if utilized outside Pland, transactions might take anywhere from three to seven days for completion.”
Duncan received the card, carefully inspecting this symbol of the city’s technological prowess. It lacked any photographic identification, relying solely on punch holes and his name centrally inscribed. This rudimentary system of ID was a stark departure from Earth’s methods but was, in its own right, an innovative form of identification.
From behind the counter, a voice inquired, “Is there any other assistance you require today?”
Momentarily lost in thought, Duncan roused himself and replied, “No, I think that’s all. Thank you.” As he readied to depart, a question seemingly sprang to mind, prompting him to ask, “I have to know… can these machines truly be corrupted by malicious spirits?”
The clerk responded almost reflexively, her tone suggesting the answer was common knowledge. “Absolutely, they can. Isn’t it a widely accepted belief that every entity in this realm, save for subspace, is susceptible to corruption?”
Duncan was taken aback by the swiftness and certainty of her reply. Yet, it spurred a revelation deep within him, kindling the flames of a novel idea.
After a brief pause, he responded, echoing the clerk’s sentiment, “Indeed, everything, except for subspace, is vulnerable to corruption here.”
With that, he made his exit from the bank.
Despite the detour at the bank, Duncan still had a packed agenda ahead. Besides procuring a bicycle for Nina, his shopping list included a myriad of items—some of which, if revealed, might just send Nina into a tizzy.
The sum of money Duncan had acquired from selling the dagger to Mr. Morris, coupled with the reward he received for informing on the cultists, amounted to an impressive fortune. To put it into perspective, such an amount could comfortably sustain a trio living in the city’s lower tiers for a span of two to three years. Realizing that this substantial amount had largely been left untouched, Duncan felt compelled to put the funds to good use.
And so, Duncan embarked on a shopping spree that would have put any seasoned shopper to shame. For the majority of the day, he ventured through practically every marketplace and boutique around the Crossroad.
As the clock neared four in the afternoon, Duncan found solace in the cool shade of an alleyway close to the busy intersection. Setting down his numerous purchases with a thud, he took a deep, satisfying breath. Gazing at his haul, he felt an immense sense of gratification.
His acquisitions included essentials like flour, an array of vegetables, seeds, and a medley of spices. There were fresh cuts of meat, an assortment of pickled goods, a variety of dried mushrooms, beverages, and — to Duncan’s delight — cheese. Not just any cheese, but genuine, freshly-made cheese that was younger than him!
Beyond these edibles, Duncan also secured several household items – a new collection of pots, pans, and other miscellaneous items he believed would be beneficial.
With these provisions, Duncan was optimistic about improving the living conditions aboard the Vanished. At the very least, he was certain the kitchen would now yield meals that were not only nutritious but also palatable.
Feeling content with his day’s work, Duncan called out, “Ai!”
The immediate response was a fluttering sound originating from an adjacent building. Moments later, Ai, in her dove form, alighted gracefully on Duncan’s shoulder.
However, her demeanor shifted rapidly from poised to perplexed as she surveyed the mountain of goods. “You can’t be serious!” she squawked, visibly overwhelmed.
In her astonishment, Ai seemed to lose her balance, keeling over in a mock faint. Always a step ahead, Duncan reached out and caught the melodramatic bird mid-descent. He chuckled, “Don’t fret. If one trip isn’t enough, you can always make multiple runs back and forth.”
The cheeky grin on Duncan’s face was evident, even as he held the now flustered dove in his grasp.
Poor birb, being overworked already/
Duncan realizing he can corrupt the banking system