Bank

Argan drove his car alone, cruising along a quiet highway that separated the big city from the outskirts. His work outside the city was done, just a routine inspection at an old site, and now he just wanted to go home and rest.

The sky was starting to cloud over, and his watch showed it was almost dusk.

However, thick fog began to emerge from between the forests on both sides of the road. In an instant, his visibility became unclear.

Thick fog along the highway made Argan's expression turn confused. "Hah!! Why is there suddenly fog here?"

Argan slowed down the car while gripping the steering wheel tighter. He activated the wiper, but it didn't help clear the increasingly dense fog. The atmosphere of the road turned strange, silent, heavy, as if the world around him had stopped functioning.

Suddenly, a black shadow darted across in front, causing Argan to swerve to avoid hitting it.

The screech of brakes echoed, and the tires lost grip. His car spun before crashing into the guardrail and flipping down a small slope beside the highway.

Everything turned chaotic. The car windows shattered and scattered onto the ground and road. When he regained awareness, the world around him seemed upside down. Pain started to sting his shoulder and stomach. Blood dripped from his forehead.

With difficulty, Argan tried to unbuckle his seatbelt, his hands trembling as he pressed the release button. His head was ringing, but he knew he had to get out quickly.

But before he could push the crushed door open, a circle of light appeared around his body, a drawing of strange symbols in the air, glowing pale blue and pulsing like a living heart.

Argan's eyes widened, trying to resist the dizziness and ache that gripped his entire body.

"What… is this…?"

The light grew brighter, and a strange buzzing sound began to fill the car. Argan's body felt lighter, as if floating, and his vision slowly faded. Then everything went dark.

After some time unconscious, Argan slowly opened his eyes.

His first sight was still blurry, filled only with the blinding sunlight and swirling dust. He frowned, trying to adjust his eyes to the glaring brightness.

Slowly, he rose and stood, though his body still felt heavy.

But he felt no pain in his body.

His hands quickly touched his forehead, his shoulders, and his left ribs, the places that should have been injured from the accident. But there were no bloodstains. No wounds. Only his torn clothes remained.

"What just happened?"

Argan looked around. His feet stood on reddish-yellow sand stretching as far as the eye could see. No highway. No car. No forest.

Only a vast, silent, and scorching desert.

The pounding in his chest grew faster.

He turned slowly, scanning the surroundings to make sure this wasn't just an illusion or strange dream. But everything was too real. The hot wind brushed against his face. The grains of sand slipped into his clothes. The dry air stung his throat.

"This… isn't where I was just now..."

His expression changed, eyes widened slightly, breath held.

Argan looked up at the sky.

Suddenly he fell silent.

Up above, three moons hung in the sky — one bluish-white, large and softly glowing. The second was smaller, pale red. And the last, oblong and purplish, seemed to throb faintly.

Argan could only stand frozen.

"Three moons?"

He looked back down at the silent desert, then back up at the sky. His breath slowed, but his face returned to calm.

---

Argan sat on the body of an unconscious masked man, his breath slow, calm. His hands were still stained with dust and traces of the brief battle that had just happened.

His eyes were closed for a moment, recalling the memory from five years ago, the moment he was thrown into another world, waking in a strange desert, and staring at a sky with three moons.

When he opened his eyes again, the present world returned to reality.

He lifted his gaze.

Around him, bodies of men lay scattered, most unconscious, only groaning weakly or not moving at all. They all wore light armor and black masks that covered most of their faces. Some held weapons that now lay loose from their grasp.

Argan slowly stood.

The earlier fight had left the walls cracked and mirrors shattered.

He was inside a bank, and clearly, the bank was being robbed.

Argan brushed some dust from his shoulder, then walked calmly past the unconscious bodies. None of them had been able to harm him. Not today.

---

A few hours earlier…

Argan stood in front of a tall glass-decorated building, Bagara Bank, one of the major financial institutions in the city. His goal was simple — to withdraw money he hadn't touched for a long time. The account was opened before he disappeared five years ago, and now he wanted to make sure it still existed.

He walked into the bank, carrying a small black sling bag. A bank officer greeted him and led him to the waiting area while the account verification was processed.

"Sir, please wait a moment. We're checking your account status in the archive system."

Argan only nodded. He said nothing.

Time passed. The clock on the wall ticked slowly. There were still many other customers sitting in the waiting area.

Argan slowly got up from his seat and walked toward the men's restroom. He entered one of the stalls and relieved himself. The atmosphere was quiet, only the sound of the fan and occasional water drips.

However, just after he washed his hands and was about to leave, the main restroom door was kicked open from outside.

"Everyone out! Hands up!"

A masked man in light armor appeared at the restroom door, holding a stun baton. His eyes stared sharply at Argan, then he shouted inward.

"Hey, you! Get out now! We need everyone gathered in the vault room!"

He stepped into the restroom, trying to grab Argan's arm.

But before his hand could touch Argan, he felt his wrist gripped tightly — too tightly.

Without saying a word, Argan clutched that wrist, and in one swift movement, he turned the man's body and threw him against the left wall of the restroom.

A loud thud echoed.

The mirror shattered instantly, the sink ripped from the wall, water spraying out.

"ARGHH—!"

The robber collapsed, unmoving.

Moments later, two more robbers stormed in after hearing the commotion. They saw their comrade already lying on the floor.

"Looks like he's not an ordinary guy! Everyone, take him down!"

Two robbers attacked simultaneously from two directions. One came low, the other from above.

Argan dodged a strike aimed at his ribs with just a slight turn, then caught the attacker's knee from below and pushed him backward until he stumbled. The other swung his weapon, but Argan caught the strike with his bare hand, elbowed the attacker in the jaw, and hurled him toward the restroom door — the door flew off its hinges and crashed onto the corridor floor.

All of it happened within seconds.

Three down.

Argan stood still, his eyes glancing toward the wide-open restroom door. Shouts and commands from outside indicated the entire building was now under the control of armed robbers.

He returned to the restroom and saw one of the robbers still semi-conscious, lying while clutching his stomach.

Argan walked slowly, then sat on the man's back, pressing slightly so he couldn't move.

In a calm voice, Argan asked:

"How many people are with you?"

The robber trembled, blood at his mouth.

"Y...ou think I'm...going to… tell..."

Argan snapped the robber's finger, causing him to scream in pain.

"There are eighteen!! Eighteen!!"

"Your boss's location?"

"Top floor… management room…"

Argan looked at him emotionlessly.

"Good."

He tapped the man's head with his finger tip.

The man immediately passed out.

Argan stood, dusted off his clothes, then walked out of the restroom.