All Chapters of The Bank's Mistake, My Payback Time: Chapter 1 - Chapter 7

"Why are you still standing there? Can't understand plain English?" Jessie Cartney shouted, all while meticulously filing her nails. "There's a line behind you, you uncultured—"Even the security guards in the hall had come over, drawn by her voice.I couldn't help but laugh—truly, I did.In all my years, I had never seen someone rush to hand money to a bank, only to be shooed out with a broom.I wasn't ready to give up. I nudged the receipt toward the glass counter."Number 035. Let me confirm one last time. If the bank makes an operational error, and the amount is wrong, does that still count as your 'not responsible once I leave the counter' rule?"Jessie didn't even glance at the slip. She didn't lift her eyelids."You're a broken record, huh? Can't see the big letters on the wall? Once you leave this counter, whatever money you have—or don't have—is your problem. That's the rule, got it? The rule!"She deliberately emphasized the word rule, her expression arrogant as if sh

The next morning, I went to work as usual.Just inside the lobby on the first floor, I saw a crowd gathered near the reception.Right in the center stood Jessie.She wasn't wearing makeup today.Next to her was a middle-aged man in a suit—the bank manager from their branch, Pete Conrad. I'd seen him pacing the lobby before, hands clasped behind his back like a petty landlord inspecting his turf.Two police officers were also present.Jessie's sharp eyes spotted me the moment I stepped in.She froze for half a second, then lunged like a starving wolf that had spotted its prey."That's her!" she screamed. "Police! Arrest that thief!"She came at me so aggressively that she nearly collided with me. I sidestepped, and she stumbled, almost falling flat on her face.The commotion drew the attention of everyone in the lobby. It was peak office hours. Colleagues stopped in their tracks. Even the receptionist covered her mouth in shock."What's going on? Who said Claire stole money?"

I carried the cardboard box out of the office building.The sunlight outside was sharp, almost blinding.I didn't rush home. Instead, I found a small internet café and booked a private room.The moment I logged onto the computer, a notification from another bank card popped up: [Your account has been frozen. For inquiries, please contact your issuing bank.]Pete had acted fast.A blatant abuse of industry privilege—illegally freezing my assets to force me into submission.What dirty tactics.Instinctively, I opened a local forum.A hot topic caught my eye: [Regarding a client's malicious exploitation of a system error for personal gain.]The post was written in official language, describing "a certain Ms. Dune" refusing to return the bank's "erroneous funds" and hinting at attempted extortion.The comment section had already exploded.Some questioned the bank, but most called me greedy and unscrupulous.They were trying to shame me publicly before I could respond.Before I

What happened next unfolded naturally.The head office took control of the scene.The livestream was cut short, but I had already saved the playback.The public outcry had become a tsunami—impossible to contain.Even the bank's PR team was in full-blown panic.They separated me from Pete and Jessie, ushering us into different rooms.I was received by the vice president of the bank, George Wesley.He was extremely polite."Claire, we sincerely apologize," George said. "This was a management oversight on our part, allowing such a rogue element to slip through. Your account has been immediately unfrozen. And this is a small token of our goodwill—please accept it."He pushed a check toward me.I glanced at the figure—twenty thousand dollars.It was more generous than Pete's offer."Mr. Wesley," I said, not touching the check. "I told you, I don't need money. This is ill-gotten gain—I won't take a cent. But I have two conditions."George wiped sweat from his brow."Name them,