The Hidden King: Rise of Hercules

Turning the Tables

Alex didn't blink when Peter ripped that expensive cheque right down the middle. He just stood there, keeping his face totally calm, while the banker stood across the counter wearing a smug, arrogant grin like he had just won the lottery.

“Well, look at you, Mr. Big Shot,” Peter laughed loudly, tossing the shredded paper into the trash bin beneath his desk. “Did you really think a bum like you could walk in here with a million-dollar payout? Do us all a favor and go back to dropping off packages where you belong. You're embarrassing yourself.”

Jessica giggled behind her computer screen, shaking her head as she watched the whole thing. “Honestly, Peter, what did you expect? People like him will do anything just to catch some attention.”

The other customers in the lobby started whispering and pointing, casting cold, judgmental glances at Alex. But none of it fazed him. Underneath his calm exterior, a cold storm was brewing. He wasn't mad, he was just watching a fool dig his own grave.

“You're going to regret tearing that up,” Alex said quietly, his voice carrying a strange, heavy weight that made Peter pause for a second.

“Regret it? Oh, man, you're hilarious!” Peter sneered, leaning over the counter. “What are you going to do, cry to your boss? Oh wait, you got fired yesterday! Get lost before I call security to drag you out.”

Alex didn't waste any more breath arguing. He turned around and walked straight out of the bank doors, pulling out his phone as the midday sun hit his face. He dialed a direct number that few people in the entire city even knew existed.

It picked up on the second ring.

“Hercules,” a respectful, deep voice answered from the other end.

“Alfred,” Alex said, his tone icy and sharp. “My cheque just got torn up by a petty little teller named Peter at the downtown branch. He decided it was fake.”

There was a terrifying moment of dead silence on the line. When Alfred spoke again, his voice was trembling with absolute fury. “A teller? At our primary partnered branch? Give me five minutes, sir. I am personally handling this right now.”

The call dropped.

Alex shoved his phone back into his pocket, a faint, cold smile touching the corners of his lips. He decided to take a slow stroll down the block, knowing exactly what kind of absolute chaos was about to erupt inside that bank.

Back inside the branch, Peter was strutting around his desk like a peacock, bragging to Jessica about how he put the arrogant delivery boy in his place.

“Can you believe the nerve of that kid?” Peter chuckled, adjusting his tie. “Imagine thinking you're a high-roller when you can't even afford a decent pair of shoes.”

Before Jessica could even answer, the heavy double doors of the bank slammed wide open with a violent crash.

Everyone in the lobby jumped, turning their heads toward the entrance. A group of heavily armed private security guards marched in first, parting the crowd like a wave. Right behind them strode Alfred himself, looking like an absolute thundercloud of pure rage, flanked by the terrified branch manager who was tripping over his own feet trying to keep up.

Peter’s jaw dropped. Color drained completely from his face, leaving him looking like a ghost. Alfred? The billionaire owner and primary investor of their entire financial network, walking into their local branch on a random Tuesday?

The branch manager rushed ahead, trembling as he pointed a shaking finger toward Peter’s counter. “M-Mr. Alfred, sir! What an unexpected honor—how can we help you today?”

Alfred didn't even look at the manager. His cold, piercing eyes locked straight onto Peter, who was now frozen stiff behind his counter, beads of sweat breaking out across his forehead.

“Where is he?” Alfred’s voice boomed across the silent lobby, echoing off the marble pillars.

“S-Sir? Who?” the manager stammered, completely lost.

“The teller,” Alfred snapped, his tone sharp enough to cut glass. “The miserable fool who just destroyed a direct-issued executive corporate draft belonging to my closest associate.”

Peter felt his knees turn to water. He grabbed the edge of his counter to keep from collapsing.

The manager blinked rapidly, turning around to glare at Peter. “Peter? Did you touch a corporate draft?”

“I, I didn't know, sir!” Peter choked out, his voice cracking into a high-pitched squeak as he stumbled backward. “He looked like a delivery boy! He was just some broke orphan trying to scam us! I swear I thought it was fake!”

Alfred marched straight up to Peter’s counter, his eyes burning with pure fury. He slammed his fist down on the wood so hard that the pens and cups jumped.

“You absolute idiot!” Alfred roared, stepping right into Peter’s personal space. “That draft was authorized by me personally! That man is a VIP of the highest order! You didn't just tear up a piece of paper, you insulted the most powerful man in this entire city!”

The entire lobby went dead silent. You could hear a pin drop. Jessica covered her mouth with both hands, her eyes wide with sheer terror as she realized what a catastrophic mistake Peter had made.

“Sir, pleaseI'm sorry! I didn't know!” Peter sobbed, dropping to his knees behind the counter, completely losing any shred of his previous arrogance.

“You're done,” Alfred said coldly, staring down at him like a bug. “You are fired, your banking license is permanently revoked across every institution in the country, and I am personally filing a multi-million-dollar lawsuit against you for corporate sabotage. Security, drag him out of my sight.”

Before Peter could even let out a proper scream, two massive guards hauled him up by his arms, dragging his kicking and wailing body right across the marble floor and out the front doors.

Alfred stood there for a second, breathing heavily to calm his nerves, before turning to the trembling branch manager. “Get a new, unblemished cheque printed and brought to my office immediately. And if I ever see incompetence like this in this branch again, I will bulldoze the entire building by sundown.”

“Y-Yes, sir! Right away, sir!” the manager squeaked, scrambling backward toward the office as fast as his legs could carry him.

Outside on the sidewalk, Alex watched as Peter was literally tossed out onto the concrete like a sack of garbage, sobbing uncontrollably as he clutched his head in despair.

Alex walked past him without breaking stride, not even sparing the crying loser a single glance. He hopped into a waiting cab, ready to head over to P.K. Corporation. The game had officially started, and Hercules was just getting warmed up.