The Forsaken Man Who Shook The World

Chapter 5. Lower Than Trash!

Suddenly, one of Jacob’s friends chimed in, raising an eyebrow smugly.

“Hahaa! That’s a good idea, Hendrik! He could work mornings at your place, afternoons at Dirman’s, and evenings at Santoso’s. Just like those daily-wage washerwomen. Not bad, right? Fifty bucks per house per month. Save up enough and maybe you could buy yourself a little motorcycle, so you wouldn’t have to wear out your feet walking everywhere. Don’t they hurt?!”

“Hahahahaaa!”

Hearing the mockery from Jacob and his friends, Jackson simply walked past them without a single word.

His chest had been pounding since earlier, and now, after all the insults, his heart felt like it was racing uncontrollably. Jackson’s teeth clenched tightly, his jaw trembling as he tried to suppress the pain and fury. His breathing grew heavier, holding back the anger boiling inside him.

No! This is enough!

Jackson strode into the parking lot of the biggest bank in town and made his way to the entrance.

The security guard, busy with his phone, didn’t notice him, so Jackson went straight inside.

“Hey! Stop right there!”

A shout came from the Customer Service desk, and a man quickly blocked Jackson’s path as he moved toward the tellers.

“We don’t accept charity collections here! Get out!”

Jackson frowned, glaring sharply at the man who was trying to drive him out. But then he took a deep breath, exhaling slowly.

“I want to withdraw money,” Jackson said firmly, glancing at the man’s nametag. Johardi, S.E.

“Withdraw money?!” Johardi sneered.

Just then, the security guard rushed in after hearing the commotion.

“Yes, sir!” the guard said, saluting Johardi.

“Throw this beggar out!”

Thud!

Jackson stiffened again at Johardi’s words. He had clearly said he wanted to withdraw money. A cold smirk tugged at the corners of his lips.

“So this is how you treat customers?!”

“Of course, we respect our customers. But not a beggar like you! Security! Drag this man out right now!”

The guard immediately grabbed Jackson by both arms and shoved him roughly.

“You dare mess with me?!” Jackson barked firmly.

“Oh, heavens, this beggar! Sir, if your house doesn’t have a mirror, let me lend you one so you can take a good look at yourself!”

Just then, a woman dressed in a black blazer and white long-sleeved shirt walked over, pulling out a small mirror from her pocket as she lectured him.

“Your face may be a little handsome. But look at this,” said the woman in the black blazer again, holding up the mirror toward his worn-out shirt and shabby work pants—showing just how pitiful Jackson looked.

Jackson, feeling his time had already been wasted and humiliated enough by these lowly people, immediately reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.

“Yes, Mr. President Director.”

A voice answered from the other side.

“Wijaya Kusuma. Get down here right now!”

“Yes, Mr. President Director.”

Wijaya Kusuma was the branch manager of this very bank, appointed by the Central Bank and tasked with overseeing this branch under his responsibility.

Hearing the manager’s name mentioned so casually, and being ordered around so easily, the three people surrounding Jackson frowned in confusion. Before they could even finish processing what was happening, Wijaya Kusuma came jogging over to Jackson.

“Ready, Mr. Pres—” his words faltered.

“Silence! Do you know what they’ve done to me?!”

Wijaya Kusuma froze, his eyes darting toward the three staff members encircling Jackson.

Glukk!

He nearly died on the spot when he saw the furious face of Jackson—the only son of the owner of World Bank, which had hundreds of branches across the globe.

“I am a customer here. No matter how I dress or how I look, I am still a customer. Do I deserve to be treated like this?!”

Jackson’s voice remained calm as he pulled out the black card he had been holding earlier.

Death!

That was the only word flashing in the minds of the three who had mocked, belittled, and even tried to throw Jackson out with such degrading words.

They had never seen a customer carry a Jackson Card with that special engraving, the glint catching all three pairs of eyes at once. That black card was said to belong only to a handful of people across all branches of the World Bank owned by Emerald Raksa Hethawey—or perhaps only to the Raksa Hethawey conglomerate family themselves. Who knew? Small employees like them certainly didn’t.

Without warning, the three who had mistreated Jackson instantly lowered their heads and dropped to their knees before him.

But what did Jackson do?

He simply walked away into a room—as though he knew exactly what it was and where it was located in every bank owned by his family.

Wijaya Kusuma’s eyes bulged at the sight of the three kneeling employees. Bewildered, he quickly signaled with his fingers before hurrying after Jackson, followed by the troublemakers as well.

The room immediately grew heavy with dread. The man who had appeared like a beggar moments ago now looked terrifying to those three. Jackson’s face, now brimming with barely contained fury, made even Wijaya Kusuma’s heartbeat stumble in fear.

“Wijaya Kusuma. Explain to me why they still deserve to remain employees here!”

Rrzzzz!

It was as if a high-voltage current had struck the three wrongdoers. Their legs trembled violently before they collapsed into full prostration before Jackson, who stood with his arms crossed.

“M-Mr… they…” Wijaya Kusuma stammered, unable to defend them, terrified by the rage of the Sultan’s heir.

“Honored Sir. Forgive me, I was wrong. Please don’t fire me, Sir. Have mercy. I swear I’ll change my behavior toward anyone who comes here, no matter how they look or what their status is. Please, Sir, pity me. My wife is heavily pregnant and about to give birth to our first child. Please, just give me one more chance, Honored Sir.”

The security guard begged in desperation, knowing the three of them were about to be immediately fired. Forget the hospital fees—up until now, the company had even covered employees’ family medical care and pregnancy checkups. What would become of him and his family now?!

“Mercy, Honored Sir. Please don’t fire me. I’ve been saving for my wedding next year. If I lose my job, how can I get married?!” added Johardi, the Customer Service officer.

“That’s your problem! It has nothing to do with me!” Jackson snapped, his fury rising. After all, Johardi was the very first one who had stopped him.

Silence.