Here Comes Almighty Desmond Ice

Loan he wasn't aware of

Desmond eyes flashes on seeing the branch manager looking so calm and indifference.

Didn't he hear what was happening here? 

Desmond chose to follow the reasoning that the branch manager didn't hear otherwise why was he so indifferent at such a situation.

“Branch manager, that man Desmond, here's he.” She shouted at Desmond.

The branch manager glanced at Desmond before speaking. “Hello, Mr. Desmond Ice,” he greeted, his tone indifferent.

“Hello,” Desmond replied. “I received a call asking me to come here.”

Despite his frustration, Desmond kept his tone calm.

The branch manager nodded. “Yes, Mr. Ice, I did request your presence. It’s nothing major, just a matter concerning your outstanding debt balance.”

“What?”

“It’s regarding a loan.”

“A loan balance? I don’t understand. I’ve never taken a loan from this bank.”

He had already checked the sign outside and was certain he’d never had any dealings with this company.

“You must be mistaken.”

“No, Mr. Ice. Our records show you as one of our borrowers. You took out a loan of $10 million, with today being the due date for repayment.”

“There has to be some mistake! That’s not my name on your records,” Desmond insisted, frowning.

From the reception desk, the receptionist suddenly chimed in, shouting. “Branch manager, don’t listen to him. He’s just trying to deny it all. We should’ve known better than to grant such a large loan to someone like him. His appearance alone is a red flag!”

“He wouldn’t have shown up at all if we hadn’t called him about the overdue payment. It’s pathetic!”

“Enough!” Desmond’s voice shook with anger. “I’ve never taken any loan! What do you mean by saying I refuse to settle a debt I don’t owe?”

“I understand your frustration,” the branch manager replied, “but our records clearly show when you took the loan, as well as the due date. It was processed online, and we have your electronic signature on file. Your profile is already in our system.”

“You’re serious?” Desmond asked, bewildered. “How could this have happened?”

“Branch manager, why are you even bothering to speak with him so calmly? Just look at him—he doesn’t seem like someone who could pay back a loan of this size.”

The branch manager fell silent, his gaze shifting to Desmond. It was clear he was considering the receptionist’s words. Indeed, Desmond’s appearance didn’t fit the image of someone who had taken out, let alone could repay, a $10 million loan.

“What’s with the look?” Desmond asked, his voice tight with frustration.

“When will you settle the loan?” the branch manager asked bluntly, ignoring the shock on Desmond’s face.

Was he being judged solely on his appearance? First by the receptionist, and now by the branch manager?

“Excuse me, I asked you a question,” the branch manager snapped, pulling Desmond out of his thoughts.

“I don’t know what to say,” Desmond replied, his voice strained. He knew he hadn’t taken any loan, but now the branch manager was demanding he pay up.

He was even stared at by all.

You don't know what?" the branch manager snapped, irritation clear in his voice. "Your profile and electronic signature are all in our system, yet you're saying you don't know?"

"Don’t bother with him. He’s just trying to play smart. Pathetic," the receptionist chimed in.

The crowd's judgmental stares were all focused on Desmond, and he felt both frustrated and furious.

"Can you show me the records?" After what felt like an eternity, Desmond finally asked.

"Of course," the branch manager sneered, walking off to retrieve the file.

"Here it is," he said, handing it over. Desmond quickly scanned through it, his expression darkening as he read.

Everything was there—his profile, his details, everything.

"Is it possible for someone to take out a loan without the person's knowledge?" Desmond asked.

"What kind of nonsense is that?" the branch manager barked. "You took the loan yourself, so stop making excuses. We even called your home, and you confirmed it! So, what are you trying to deny now?"

"I didn’t—" Desmond’s voice trailed off as he recalled a time when Abigail had handed him his phone, asking him to speak to someone.

Damn it!

Abigail again!

"Ah, now you remember, don’t you?" the branch manager said, eyeing him with disdain.

"But—" Desmond tried to explain but was interrupted.

"Don’t listen to him, branch manager! We should call the police and have him tortured. He’ll confess soon enough! What a debtor and a thief!" the receptionist spat.

Desmond's face hardened. He turned to her, his voice icy. "Did you just call me a thief?"

"I-I didn't..." the receptionist stammered, her confidence crumbling under Desmond's furious glare. She bit her lip, humiliated that she had faltered in front of him—someone she considered worthless.

"Answer me!" Desmond shouted, showing no concern for her pathetic attempts to defend herself.

"What do you want her to answer? She already said it. Or do you want her to repeat it?" the branch manager snapped, clearly annoyed.

"Is this how you speak to a customer? I can’t believe I even came here. You accuse someone you barely know of being a thief. You think I’m pathetic? Fine. I’ll pay, and when I do, I’ll make sure to slap you with it!"

The crowd erupted into laughter again, treating Desmond like a joke.

[Did he just say he’ll pay? As if $10 million is that easy to come by!]

[This guy’s hilarious.]

The branch manager chuckled and said, "Alright then, pay up. Give him the bill," he instructed the receptionist. He didn’t believe for a second that Desmond could actually pay—he was simply mocking him, waiting for his pride to collapse.

The receptionist quickly handed Desmond the bill, which now included the original $10 million and $2 million in interest.

Desmond took the bill, and under the disbelieving eyes of everyone, he calmly pulled out his phone.

Fool! That’s what everyone was thinking.

Within about twenty seconds, the branch manager’s phone buzzed with an alert. His eyes widened as he saw the amount.

$12 million.

He nearly fainted. He looked up at Desmond, shock written all over his face.

“You sent it?” he asked in disbelief.

Desmond said nothing, but the branch manager couldn’t hide his shock and surprise.

“Branch manager, what’s wrong?” the receptionist asked, a sinking feeling growing inside her.

The branch manager ignored her, his focus fixed on Desmond. "Sir, please forgive me for the disrespect," he stammered, dropping to his knees in desperation.

Desmond snorted mockingly, his eyes scanning the room. As confused faces looked on, he walked to a wall and began typing something into his phone based on what he saw posted there. No one understood what he was doing.

Seeing that Desmond wasn’t responding, the branch manager grew more frantic. "You! Idiotic receptionist! You're fired for your rudeness!" he shouted, glaring at her.

"Sir?!" the receptionist gasped, panicking.

"Get out, you fool! You made me disrespect such an important client!" He quickly dialed security. "Remove her immediately. A disrespectful employee like that drives customers away!"

Everyone watched in shock. It wasn’t every day that someone paid off a $12 million loan in one go, plus interest. But now, this man had done just that.

Still kneeling, the branch manager’s phone rang. After hanging up, his face drained of color. "I'm ruined," he muttered, his hands trembling. "Sir, please, forgive me." Tears streamed down his face.

"What’s happening, branch manager?" one of the security guards who had just arrived asked.

"I just received a call from the higher-ups. I've been fired for disrespecting and looking down on a client!" He sobbed openly now.

Desmond remained unmoved by the pleading from both the manager and the receptionist. He continued typing, having found the customer service numbers for the bank’s other branches.

"Please, sir," the manager begged, "withdraw your complaint. I promise to treat you with the respect given to our most prestigious clients."

"You're begging now because you’ve realized I'm not as worthless as you thought." Desmond’s voice was cold. "Would you have apologized if I hadn’t paid? Would you feel any remorse if you hadn’t been fired?"

The branch manager had no response. He stayed on his knees, refusing to stand, his regret growing with every passing second. The receptionist, knowing she was partly responsible, trembled at the consequences of her actions. If she hadn’t judged Desmond by his appearance, the situation wouldn’t have escalated.

"You idiot!" the branch manager spat, turning on the receptionist. "Why are you still standing? Get on your knees and beg for his forgiveness. If he doesn’t forgive us, you’ll regret ever coming to work today!"

The receptionist, shaking with fear, quickly dropped to her knees. "Sir, I’m so sorry for judging you. I shouldn’t have treated you that way, but this isn’t worth both of us losing our jobs!"

Desmond chuckled darkly. "Calling me a thief isn’t enough reason to get you fired?"

"T-thief... that was just a slip of the tongue. I didn’t mean it," the receptionist stammered, her face cracking with anxiety.

"Well, I’m not someone who forgets. Calling me a thief was your biggest mistake."

Had they simply disrespected him, Desmond might have let it slide. But accusing him of theft? That was a line they should never have crossed.

"I’m leaving, and I won’t be withdrawing my complaint." He chuckled again, walking away. With the address he had received earlier, he headed directly there.