Bank In Chaos
Bank in Chaos
The sun was at its peak as Vihaan Kumar stepped into the grand premises of City Bank of Chandigarh. The bank's massive glass doors swung open automatically, revealing a well-lit, air-conditioned hall filled with neatly arranged counters, occupied by well-dressed employees. The faint hum of conversations, the tapping of keyboards, and the occasional ring of phones filled the air.
As Vihaan walked in, his simple attire—a faded shirt and slightly worn-out jeans—immediately caught the attention of some staff members. A few employees stole quick glances at him, their expressions unreadable. Others, particularly a young female attendant at the reception desk, let out an audible scoff, shaking her head dismissively.
Vihaan, however, ignored it all. His eyes were focused on one thing—the bank manager.
He approached the manager's desk and politely placed his passbook in front of him.
The manager, a middle-aged man with neatly combed hair, adjusted his tie and glanced at the passbook. He seemed unimpressed. With a simple nod, he gestured to his assistant, who immediately fetched a laptop and placed it in front of him.
The manager did not utter a single word. He opened the bank's official website and, with the swift placement of his fingerprint, logged into the system.
Vihaan's heart pounded as he watched every movement carefully.
The manager, still silent, looked at Vihaan with mild disinterest, then turned back to the screen. His fingers began typing.
As soon as he entered Vihaan's account number, the laptop screen displayed a loading symbol.
Seconds passed.
Vihaan felt his palms growing sweaty. His breathing grew slightly uneven.
Then, with a small chime, the account details finally appeared—
Name: Vihaan Kumar
Account Number: 3346
Branch: City Bank of Chandigarh
The manager squinted at the screen, his brows slightly furrowing. His fingers tapped the table as he exhaled impatiently.
Then, he slowly turned his gaze back to Vihaan, his voice now carrying a sharp edge—
"The account exists." His lips curved into a slight smirk. "But if there's no balance, you are going straight to jail."
Vihaan's lips parted slightly, but he chose to remain silent.
Without wasting another moment, the manager clicked on the balance inquiry button and placed his fingerprint once again for authorization.
Another loading screen appeared.
A second later, the account balance flashed on the screen in large, bold numbers.
And just like that, everything changed.
The Shocking Revelation
The numbers on the screen were so large that the manager's hands froze mid-air.
His mouth went dry.
His heartbeat accelerated.
His breath hitched as he struggled to comprehend the amount displayed before him—
₹2,21,00,01,035
(221 crore, 1 thousand, and 35 rupees!)
The sheer magnitude of the number sent a shockwave through his body.
The laptop screen reflected in his wide, disbelieving eyes.
His fingers, which had been firm just moments ago, began trembling uncontrollably.
A bead of cold sweat formed on his temple, rolling down his cheek.
His chest tightened. His lips quivered. His throat dried up, unable to form a single coherent word.
He tried to speak but could barely manage a stammer—
"Th-this… this much money… h-how?"
A dead silence engulfed the entire bank.
The few employees and customers who had been busy with their work stopped everything. They sensed something unusual. All eyes discreetly turned toward the manager's desk, curiosity growing among them.
Then, in a sudden, panicked motion, the manager's eyes darted toward the security guard standing near the entrance.
He gritted his teeth and barked—
"GET OUT! RIGHT NOW!"
The security guard flinched, his confusion evident. He hesitated, unsure of what was happening.
"DID YOU HEAR ME?! GET OUT!" the manager repeated, his voice more aggressive this time.
The guard, unwilling to cause any trouble, gave a slight bow and hurriedly exited the hall.
Then, the manager's cold, furious gaze landed on the young bank attendant, the same woman who had earlier mocked Vihaan.
Her face turned pale as she instinctively took a step back.
The manager's voice was icy as he dismissed the rest of the staff and customers.
"Everybody out. Now."
No one dared to question him.
Within seconds, the once-crowded bank emptied out, leaving behind only two men—
Vihaan and the manager.
The manager took a deep breath, trying to compose himself. He straightened his tie, forced a smile, and finally spoke in a polite, respectful tone—
"Sir, please… allow me to escort you to our VIP lounge."
For the first time in his life, Vihaan heard the word 'Sir' being used for him inside a bank.
And he liked it.
Vihaan watched closely as the manager's shaking hands betrayed his forced confidence.
The power dynamic had shifted.
And Vihaan was the one in control now.
Inside the VIP Lounge
The VIP room was luxurious—leather sofas, wooden panels, a glass coffee table, and a soft carpet beneath their feet.
The manager, now visibly nervous, personally pulled out a chair for Vihaan.
Then, with an apologetic expression, he spoke—
"Sir, I am Prateek Sharma, the Senior Manager of this bank. I… I sincerely apologize for how my staff treated you. It was unacceptable, and I take full responsibility."
His hands clasped together, as if he was pleading.
Vihaan, however, remained calm and composed.
"I understand," he said. "But I only came here to withdraw money. Instead, all this drama unfolded."
The manager nodded rapidly, still sweating.
Vihaan then leaned forward, his voice steady—
"Can I get a bank card? I don't want to come here every time I need cash."
The manager instantly replied—
"Absolutely, sir! I will personally have your card prepared within two days. I'll even deliver it to you myself."
Vihaan nodded. "Good. For now, I'd like to withdraw ₹1 lakh in cash."
"Yes, boss! Right away!" The manager nearly sprinted toward the counter to get the withdrawal processed.
Just as Vihaan was about to leave, he suddenly paused.
"Oh, and one more thing…"
The manager stiffened, waiting for what was coming next.
"The security guard did nothing wrong. But that attendant—her behavior was unacceptable."
The manager immediately understood.
"Consider it handled, sir."
Vihaan gave a small, victorious smile before heading toward the cash counter.
Outside the Bank
Vihaan stepped out of the bank, ₹1 lakh in his pocket.
His chin was high, his posture confident.
A few minutes ago, he was nothing in their eyes.
Now?
He was the richest customer they had ever seen.
And deep inside the bank…
The real game had just begun.