After leaving the Innovation Hub Tower, James hurried to a nearby bank on his electric bike to verify if the money in his bank card could be used freely.
Five minutes later, James arrived at the Construction Bank service hall.
As it was a working day and no one was in the hall, he went straight to the counter window.
The counter lady was a woman in heavy make-up wearing a professional suit skirt. When she saw James coming in, she lazily asked, "What can I do for you?"
Her tone was decidedly indifferent. Those in their line of work could easily discern the type of person sitting across from them with just a glance.
At this moment, James was wearing a delivery uniform and looked like a poor guy; he's definitely here for some trivial matter, which didn't pique her interest at all.
Although her attitude was bad, James didn't mind. He calmly said, "I want to withdraw money."
"There's an ATM over there." The woman said with an irritated tone, "If you don't know how to use it, look it up online yourself. I'm busy right now!"
Busy?
She's clearly doing nothing.
The attitude of the receptionist immediately caused James to lose his favor towards her.
He exclaimed, "I need to speak to your lobby manager!"
After the request, James raised his voice further. "Your service attitude is truly unacceptable. Don't you know that the customer is king?"
Upon hearing the commotion in the lobby, Virgil Newman, the lobby manager hurried out and asked, "What's happening here?"
Seeing the lobby manager, the receptionist acted as if she had found a helper.
Pointing at James, she said, "Mr. Newman, this person is causing trouble here!"
Mr. Newman was shocked; he never expected someone to cause a scene in the bank.
His expression darkened as he addressed James, "What are you trying to do?"
James smirked, "I'm here to withdraw money."
Mr. Newman furrowed his brow and asked icily, "You can withdraw money from the ATM. Why do you need to come to the counter?"
With a tone similar to the receptionist's, Mr. Newman's demeanor was notably displeased.
James immediately understood that Mr. Newman was involved with the female staff.
He had no intention of further arguing with them and stated bluntly, "What if I want to withdraw five million dollars?"
Withdrawing five million dollars?
The woman scrutinized James and mockingly said, "You're just a delivery person; you want to withdraw five million?"
"That's really amusing! Five hundred dollars seem more like it! Dreaming about withdrawing five million, aren't you?"
Mr. Newman also found it hard to believe. He didn't believe that the seemingly poor man standing before him could have five million in his account.
Nevertheless, as a seasoned manager, having risen to his current position, he knew how to handle such situations.
He raised an eyebrow and inquired, "Do you really want to withdraw five million dollars?"
Although the young man in front of him appeared somewhat destitute, still dressed in his delivery uniform, the idiosyncrasies of wealthy individuals often defied expectation.
Abiding by principle of caution, Mr. Newman addressed the issue with care.
James sneered, "Of course, I'm not here to play games at the bank. "
"To withdraw such a large sum, I'll need to seek approval from higher-ups." Unemotionally, Mr. Newman remarked, "Please wait in the VIP lounge for a while."
James nodded, "Sure."
At this moment, the woman sarcastically chuckled, "Mr. Newman, he won't be able to withdraw five million dollars."
Mr. Newman, somewhat impatiently, said, "Shut up!"
Having seen the world, Mr. Newman knew that James was not joking; he genuinely intended to withdraw five million dollars.
Someone who could withdraw five million at once was certainly not an ordinary person.
Dealing with super-rich individuals like these required a certain degree of pleasing.
After Mr. Newman's rebuke, the woman fell silent, though a hint of disdain lingered on her expression. She doubted that James has the ability to withdraw such a large sum of money.
She smirked condescendingly, thinking that he was just a delivery boy pretending to be wealthy.
However, half an hour later, when she saw James exiting the VIP lounge carrying a sack of cash, with Mr. Newman trailing behind him like a servant, her demeanor froze entirely, her eyes widening in disbelief.
This impoverished delivery man had actually withdrawn five million dollars!
"Mr. Newman, does he really have five million dollars?" the woman, still skeptical, asked the lobby manager.
"I can show you," Mr. Newman coldly replied.
Thankfully, he was somewhat adept at reading between the lines and refrained from offending James alongside the foolish woman.
Otherwise, his position as the lobby manager could have been jeopardized.
She was eager to peek inside the bag to confirm the presence of the five million dollars, but just as the words were about to leave her lips, she swallowed them back.
"Mr. Smith, my employee has been rather offensive just now. Please forgive her," Mr. Newman respectfully stated.
He then handed over his business card, saying, "Here's my card. Feel free to reach out to me for any concerns in the future."
Any discerning individual understood that someone capable of withdrawing five million dollars was undoubtedly a significant client.
Having worked his way to the position of lobby manager, he certainly wasn't naive.
He couldn't afford to please someone like James; if a customer of this caliber moved to another bank, it would be a substantial loss.
"Understood," James replied indifferently, taking the card and tucked it into his pocket.
James remarked nonchalantly, "Mr. Newman, the quality of your bank's staff leaves much to be desired. If this continues, customers might just flock to other banks. I hope you can discipline them properly."
Finishing his comment, James casually placed the sack of cash into his delivery bag and left.