“Zero percent interest? Do any of you country bumpkins actually believe that fairy tale?!”
At the foot of Taichu Galactic Sanctuary Bank’s grand marble staircase, Vice-President Jin Bao (Goodness: -82/100) paced back and forth in his bespoke pinstripe suit, his Rank 8 Sound-Amplifying Golden Megaphone booming across the fifty-mile central plaza.
Behind him, three hundred Vault #1 compliance thugs held up glowing crimson recording arrays, zooming their lenses directly into the faces of the impoverished outer-spiral sect masters and clan chiefs gathered on the steps.
“Every single face on these steps is being recorded by Vault #1’s Central Credit Bureau!” Jin Bao sneered, adjusting his gold-rimmed spectacles as he watched the desperate borrowers flinch. “The first person who crosses that threshold will have their entire civilization blacklisted across all three thousand galaxies! Forget borrowing money—you won’t even be allowed to buy a sack of spirit-rice or rent a cargo barge on Galactic Wall Street! Now turn around and come back to Vault #1’s subprime refinancing desk before I double your late fees!”
A suffocating silence fell over the marble steps.
Dozens of impoverished righteous sect masters looked from the blazing ten-thousand-meter golden plaque of Taichu Galactic Sanctuary Bank back to Jin Bao’s crimson blacklist cameras, their hands trembling around their tattered mortgage folders.
