The Divine Nerve: Healing And Ecstasy

The VIP Lane

The night grew deeper in the apartment within The Rust District. An empty pizza box lay on the floor, right next to the duct-tape line separating Silas and Nova’s territories.

Nova was still typing with inhuman speed on her sticker-bomb laptop. The cooling fan was whirring loudly, struggling to process the data.

"This is useless," Nova muttered in frustration. She slammed the laptop lid halfway shut.

Silas, who was lying on his thin foam mattress on the floor, turned his head. "What’s the problem?"

Nova spun her chair around to face Silas. Her expression was deadly serious behind her thick-rimmed glasses.

"If I want to hide your digital footprint from 'The Black Ledger' and those bounty hunters, I need a stronger weapon. This potato laptop can't fight military-grade encryption, Silas. Their firewalls will eat my processor alive in ten minutes."

Nova let out a harsh sigh. "We need a new Rig. There’s a custom model on the black market called a 'Ghost Server'. It’s the only way to make you invisible to the city's CCTV network."

"How much?" Silas asked.

"Minimum three thousand dollars. Cash," Nova replied pessimistically. "And considering we are both basically hobos who..."

Silas didn't answer. He got up from the floor, reached into the pocket of his jeans hanging on the chair, and pulled out a slip of paper. He placed it in front of Nova.

It was the check for ten thousand dollars from Mr. Vance.

"We’ll buy that server," Silas said calmly. "But tomorrow morning, we go to the bank to cash this."

Nova stared at the check, her eyes widening at the number of zeros. Then she looked up, studying Silas with a scrutinizing gaze.

"Ten thousand dollars," Nova murmured. "From the 'Vance Collection'. Silas, don't tell me you robbed an old antique collector?"

Silas felt his chest tighten. He was tired of being suspected constantly.

"Didn't I already tell you I won a lottery?" Silas’s voice rose, the defensive tone clear. "Why is it so hard to believe me?"

Nova wasn't fazed by Silas’s raised voice. She looked straight into his eyes, the sharp gaze of a hacker used to dissecting lies on the internet.

"I know you're lying. The check has the issuer's name printed right there, and it’s not a lottery website," Nova said flatly.

Silas fell silent, his mouth clamped shut. He realized how stupid that lie was.

Nova shrugged, turning back to her screen. "But whatever. I don't care where the money came from.”

"Fine. We go tomorrow. Now, get some sleep," Silas said.

The next morning.

Silas and Nova stood in front of the Silver City National Bank.

The building was a fortress of capitalism. White marble pillars soared high, supporting a neoclassical roof. Automatic glass doors hummed softly, welcoming men in expensive suits and women clutching handbags worth more than a car.

Amidst that luxury, two figures stepped inside.

Silas wore a plain grey t-shirt that had faded with wash and jeans with frayed hems. Beside him, Nova walked with her head down, drowning in an oversized black hoodie and thick glasses, hugging her backpack tightly.

They looked like vagrants who had wandered into the wrong building.

A large bank security guard, with the nametag 'Miller' on his chest, immediately straightened up. His hand dropped to the rubber baton on his belt, his eyes narrowing as he glared at Silas and Nova with suspicion.

Silas scanned the situation inside. The regular queue snaked all the way near the exit. People stood shoulder to shoulder, looking exhausted.

Meanwhile, on the left, separated by a red velvet rope, was the VIP Lane. Empty. The red carpet looked plush, leading directly to a quiet teller counter.

Without hesitation, Silas stepped toward the VIP lane.

"Hey! Stop right there!"

Officer Miller stepped forward quickly, blocking Silas’s path with his broad chest.

"Back off, kid," Miller said roughly. "Can't you read? This lane is for Priority Clients only. Minimum transaction of five thousand dollars. The line to cash welfare checks is over there, wait with the others."

Miller pointed his baton at the long line, causing a few wealthy clients nearby to chuckle.

Silas didn't back down. He locked eyes with Miller. "I’m in a hurry. I have a transaction over five thousand dollars. So move."

Miller laughed, a sound full of disdain. He poked Silas’s shoulder with his index finger. "Keep dreaming. Look at you. You don't even have five dollars in your pocket."

Silas swatted Miller’s hand away. With a quick motion, he pulled the check from his pocket and shoved it in front of the guard's face.

"Look at this."

Miller glanced at the paper. His eyes caught the number $10,000. But instead of being impressed, his expression hardened.

"Fake," Miller accused instantly. "Or you stole it. No way a bum like you has a check from Collector Vance."

"Take me to the teller," Silas challenged, his voice cold and sharp. "We’ll prove it there."

"You want to play games?" Miller grinned predatorily. He saw a chance to legally hurt someone. "Fine. Let’s make a bet. If that check is fake, I’m dragging both of you out of here, and I’m going to break a few of your bones in the parking lot for attempting bank fraud. Do we have a deal?"

Nova pulled on the hem of Silas’s shirt, her face pale. "Silas, don't..."

"And if I'm right," Silas cut in, "you will bark like a dog and crawl out of this building on your hands and knees. Deal?"

"Deal!" The officer agreed with absolute confidence.

They walked to the VIP teller counter. Behind the marble desk sat a middle-aged woman with a tight bun and glasses on a chain, Ms. Perkins. She watched Silas approach with her nose wrinkled in disgust.

Miller threw the check onto the marble counter. "Check this, Ms. Perkins. This kid claims it’s real. Please confirm it’s a forgery so I can take out the trash."

Ms. Perkins picked up the check with the tips of two fingers, as if the paper were contaminated with bacteria. She saw the signature and let out a cynical laugh.

"Mr. Vance?" Ms. Perkins snorted. "The esteemed art collector? Giving ten thousand dollars to... a creature like you?"

She didn't even type anything into her computer. She tossed the check back at Silas.

"I’ve worked here for fifteen years. I know a scammer when I see one. This is fake."

"Verify it first!" Silas snapped. "That’s your job! Check the system!"

"I don't need a system to know you are garbage!" Ms. Perkins retorted loudly, deliberately humiliating Silas for everyone to see. "Officer! Get him out and call the police!"

The commotion peaked. Other clients started whispering, pointing at Silas and Nova. Nova kept her head low, ready to bolt at any second. Miller gripped Silas’s shoulder, preparing to execute a takedown.

Suddenly, the sound of expensive leather shoes approaching cut through the crowd.

"What is this commotion? Ms. Perkins, I am in a hurry, why has the service stopped?"

That voice. Silas knew it.

Silas turned his head slowly.

Standing there was a man in a perfectly tailored navy blue suit, a gold watch gleaming on his wrist, and slicked-back hair. He radiated an aura of success and arrogance.

Dr. Harrison.

Harrison looked toward the teller desk. His eyes met Silas’s.

There was a second of pause. Harrison’s eyes widened in shock, and then, slowly, a sly smile of triumph bloomed on his face.

"Silas Thorne?" Harrison chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. "Well, well. It is a small world."

Harrison turned to Ms. Perkins and Officer Miller, assuming the authority of a respected doctor.

"I know this man," Harrison announced loudly, ensuring everyone in the lobby heard him. "He is a former nurse at my hospital. I just fired him last night for a case of malpractice, sexual harassment of female staff, and unstable behavior."

The whispers in the room turned into gasps of shock and disgust.

Ms. Perkins quickly explained, "He brought a fake check, or it seems he stole it."

Harrison glared at Silas with venomous eyes, then pointed at the check on the counter.

"Wow, now you are trying to defraud a bank, Silas? You must have stolen that check from one of the elderly patients in the hospital before you were kicked out, didn't you?"

Harrison turned to Miller. "Officer, call the police immediately. I am willing to testify. This man is dangerous and has a criminal history."

Officer Miller grinned widely, his grip on Silas’s shoulder tightening until it was painful.

"Thought so," Miller growled in Silas’s ear. "You’re finished now, kid."