Secret World of Occultists-Chapter 27: Commercial Trust

Abel walked towards the entrance of the grand building, feeling slightly nervous.

A couple of security personnel were wearing dark blue uniforms at the main entrance and watching him with a scrutinizing gaze.

The youth thought that at least one would come up to him and say something, but they didn't.

Looks like they are normal people, he thought.

Well, I suppose that makes sense.

As he entered through the double oak doors, he arrived at the entrance lobby on the ground floor.

The polished marble floors, the deep red carpet that ran from the entrance to the main banking hall, and the columns gave it a rather victorian aesthetic.

Looking at the high, coffered ceilings and the large crystal chandelier illuminating the space with warm light, Abel murmured in amazement, "Woah... So fancy!"

After passing through another security checkpoint, he arrived at the main banking floor. It was a space designed for financial transactions and client meetings.

Despite it being no later than ten in the morning, Abel saw several finely dressed clients who had come here for work.

There were long mahogany counters that separated tellers from customers. The tellers and other staff stood behind these polished counters, wearing crisp uniforms.

A floor manager, a middle-aged man who was patrolling and subtly watching over interactions between the tellers and the clients, suddenly saw Abel looking around the place as if he were lost.

The man approached him with a polite smile. "Sir, may I help you with something?"

"Huh?" Abel looked at the man with squinted eyes. "Uh, yeah. Do you work here?"

"Indeed, sir." The man nodded. "I am the Chief Teller of this fine institution."

"Ohh!" Abel nodded in understanding. "Then, perhaps you can help me. I'm looking for Mr. Kensington."

The man frowned ever so slightly, his gaze involuntarily drawn to Abel's attire. Judging by the clothes he was wearing, it didn't seem like he would have anything to do with the Chairman of the Trust.

Still, the man chose to be professional. "Sir, the Chairman is busy at the moment. Perhaps, I can help you with something."

"No, no, no!" Abel shook his hand. "He told me to come see him today."

At this point, the frown on the man's face deepened. He was about to ask security personnel to escort Abel out of the premises when suddenly the youth took out a card from his coat's inner pocket and handed it to him.

"Look," said he. "Mr. Kensington gave me his calling card too, and he instructed me to come here today and meet him."

The Chief Teller was taken aback as he read the calling card.

This is undoubtedly the Chairman's calling card, he thought. But how does someone like this young man have it? Could he be...

He was perplexed.

In Albion society calling cards were an essential part of social etiquette, particularly among the middle and upper classes.

People would typically give their calling cards to new acquaintances of similar or higher social standing, or business associates.

To the Chief Teller, it didn't make sense that someone like the Chairman would give his calling card to Abel who looked like he was from the working class.

Despite his misgivings, the man didn't wish to take any risks. After all, the Chairman of the Trust had supreme authority over the institution.

So, he called one of the nearby security personnel and gave him the card. He instructed, "Go to the third floor and give this to someone from the security department. Tell them that Mr..."

Abel chimed in, "Bishop. Abel Bishop."

"Yes, tell them Mr. Bishop is here to see the Chairman."

As Abel saw the security personnel take the card and climb the grand staircase at the far end of the banking hall, he turned to the Chief Teller and curiously asked, "So... what is it that you guys do here?"

The middle-aged man's brows creased a little as he thought, His manner of speaking is rather... crass.

Still, he chose to politely answer the youth's question. After all, there was a slim chance that he was indeed someone the Chairman knew.

And if what the youth said was a lie... Then he wouldn't hesitate to throw him out of the premises.

The man spoke with a professional smile, "Kensington & Blythe Commercial Trust is one of the finest financial institutions in Newport. We are dedicated to safeguarding wealth, facilitating commerce, and securing the financial futures of our esteemed clientele."

Abel's lips twitched as he thought to himself, My God... This guy! How many times has he rehearsed this speech in front of the mirror?

"We offer a variety of financial services, including the management of personal accounts, investment portfolios, and lending for merchants and gentlemen of industry. For those of distinguished standing, we provide financial arrangements tailored to their needs."

Abel's lips twitched even more at what he heard. He thought of something and couldn't help but ask, "Does the Trust give loans to individuals or just... you know, big businesses?"

"The Trust primarily extends credit to businesses, merchants, and industrial ventures," said the man. "However, for individuals, lending is done with great care.

"Those with established assets, such as landowners, investors, or esteemed professionals, may be considered for financial assistance, provided they meet our rigorous standards."

This was the main reason why the man thought Abel was lying about having a meeting with John Kensington. Truth be told, the youth didn't look like someone who would know someone like the Chairman.

"...I see." Abel nodded awkwardly.

After listening to the man's explanation, he couldn't help but think to himself, It sounds like these guys are laundering money here... I don't know. Hmm, sounds kinda sketchy!

Just as Abel and the Chief Teller were gazing at each other with suspicious looks in their eyes, a finely dressed young man with dark hair and dark eyes came down the staircase from the other end of the hall.

When this young man laid eyes on Abel, he called out to him with a smile, "Mr. Bishop!"

This voice... Abel's eyes lit up and he turned his head, his gaze finally landing on the one who called out to him.

"Haha, Henry!"

Meanwhile, when the Chief Teller noticed how Abel spoke to Henry with such great familiarity, he froze in shock.

His gaze darted between Henry and Abel as a drop of sweat trickled down the side of his forehead. He subconsciously gulped as a thought emerged in his mind.

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Could it be that this Abel Bishop is... actually one of them?! Good heavens! No wonder, he knows the Chairman!

At that moment, the man felt immensely grateful that he behaved in a professional manner with Abel.

"I see that you've already met Mr. Prescott," said Henry.

"Ah, is that what his name is?" Abel spoke with a raised eyebrow. "He didn't introduce himself so..."

The Chief Teller quickly offered a handshake, "Forgive my manners, Mr. Bishop. My name is Alfred Prescott, the Chief Teller of the Kensington & Blythe Commercial Trust."

Hehe, would you look at that? Abel thought in amusement. Of course, he could instantly notice the change in Alfred's demeanor.

"Pleased to meet you." Abel shook his hand with a light chuckle.

He then leaned forward and asked in a hushed voice, "Tell me, Mr. Prescott. You were planning to throw me out if things went sideways, yeah?"

"O-Of course, not!" Alfred blurted out in panic. "I wouldn't dare, Mr. Bishop, I wouldn't dare!"

"Hehe, relax. I'm just messing with ya." Abel patted the man's shoulder.

Seeing this interaction, Henry couldn't help but shake his head with a helpless sigh. He looked at Abel and smiled, "Let us go to the third floor. The Chairman will see you now."

"Alright! Let's go!"

The two climbed the grand staircase made of black marble that led to the upper executive floors. When Abel noticed that no one was around, he asked, "So, this Alfred seems to know about... well, people like us."

"Ah, indeed." Henry nodded. "He is one of the very few Dormants in this institution who has some knowledge about our affairs. That said, his understanding is quite superficial, little more than the bare essentials."

"Dormants, huh?" Abel scoffed. "Give them just enough to keep them in line, but not enough to actually matter. Hehe, it's like the supernatural version of Albion's class system."

Henry's lips twitched at that remark. "You're quite the witty man, Mr. Bishop."

"Please!" Abel insisted. "Just call me Abel. Mr. Bishop sounds so strange coming from a friend."

A friend, eh? Henry smiled.

"Very well." He nodded. "I shall call you Abel from now on."

"Hehe, good," Abel chuckled. "Anyways, what's this about Mr. Kensington being the Chairman as well as the Director? How should I address him?"

"To the public, he is the Chairman," said Henry.

"But to us... he is the Director."