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"I work at a bank in the United States."

"Reborn in 1979, I should have had the chance to show my skills and pursue grand ambitions. But why did I have to reincarnate into an American's body?! And now I have to take over a bank on the brink of bankruptcy?"

sckyh · Urban
Not enough ratings
269 Chs

Chapter 226: Advertising with Their Lives

"I lost my job!"

"I lost my wife and kids!"

"And soon, I'll lose my house. No, you're not even giving me that chance. Hahaha, let's all die! Let's all go to hell together!"

Each shout was accompanied by a gunshot. With the last gunshot, the police in Argyle City could no longer withstand the pressure and had to break in.

However, when they finally broke through, they found only a few trembling, terrified hostages inside the bank. Baines, along with Old and Young Bass, lay quietly in pools of blood.

The sudden turn of events inside Bass Bank immediately caused a commotion outside.

The female reporter covered her mouth in horror, unable to believe what had happened inside the bank; the recently interviewed fat man sighed with a complex expression.

He remembered complaining to Baines outside Bass Bank that afternoon, while waiting for his turn for an interview:

"I'd love to shoot that old bastard!"

He thought he'd be thrilled and excited if such a scene really happened. But in reality, he felt a deep, inexplicable sadness.

"Goodman! Oh my God, come quickly! Look, that guy has killed again!"

The gunshots not only shocked Argyle, but also brought Carter and Goodman running inside upon hearing the cries.

"Goodman! He's killed Bass, oh my God, how many people has he killed now?! Carter, can I take a day off for my husband?"

"Uh, is something wrong?"

If the shooting at Bass Bank was a sudden event, then Old Bass being directly shot dead was an even more sudden and unexpected one.

In times like this, when people were needed for planning and execution, why ask for a leave?

"I want him to go to Macon and buy a bulletproof vest. Otherwise, I worry too much. This time it was Bass Bank, next time... I'm sorry, I didn't mean that."

"Alright, alright, Sasha, it's not as bad as you think. What happened at Bass Bank won't happen at our Black Bank, don't worry!"

While Goodman was comforting his wife, trying to reassure her, the phone rang. He gave her a reassuring look and a quick apology to Carter before answering the call.

"It's Director William. He suggests we increase our security measures. Starting tomorrow, he'll send six officers to patrol near our bank."

After relaying the message from the phone, Goodman added with a hint of helplessness:

"Great, now everyone is going to be worried about us. Look, here we go again!"

Picking up the phone again, Goodman suddenly gestured to Carter:

"It's Mr. Benjamin. He's looking for you!"

The content of Benjamin's call was predictable: concern, reminders to stay safe, and advice to enhance security—nothing new. But after this, Benjamin shifted gears:

"Though it sounds a bit inappropriate, from an objective standpoint, the incident at Bass Bank should speed up the approval of our proposal!"

"That's not exactly a good thing, Uncle Robert."

Carter smiled wryly and explained the arrangements he and Goodman had made that afternoon. After hearing Carter's description, Benjamin seemed unconcerned:

"It hasn't been implemented yet, has it? Just stop it."

"Sure, but the land..."

"Hahaha, don't worry about the land. I believe in the potential of your commercial area. That land will be valuable sooner or later!"

"Well, we can only hope."

Sighing, Carter hung up the phone. He informed Goodman about temporarily halting the registration of the construction company, then took his leave.

On the way home, Carter contemplated the potential impacts of this situation.

First, security enhancements needed to be accelerated. The bank was already working on it, but no new security personnel had been added yet; O'Neill's men were still undergoing training with the National Guard. Of course, this wasn't due to any extraordinary influence of Carter's; he had merely found a National Guard officer to train these scattered recruits. As a bank's security personnel, even if they were black, they shouldn't carry an air of banditry—it would diminish the bank's prestige.

This matter was straightforward: the basic personnel were in training, and the process could be expedited if necessary. Hiring a retired officer to supervise security and gradually remove their gang influences was also feasible. In the post-Vietnam War era, finding an experienced retired officer wasn't difficult.

Secondly, there were economic issues: unsold land and potentially deteriorating security. If the land couldn't be sold, there would be no need for a construction company, and attracting external investment to revive the local economy would be impossible. Poor security would also harm economic development.

But there wasn't much Carter could do about these uncontrollable factors. Even with more money, it was hard to oppose the collective will of Douglas's citizens. If they collectively resisted outsiders, viewing them as threats to their jobs, resisting their entry was inevitable.

Despite his good reputation, Carter didn't want to stand against the townspeople on this issue.

However, reality often defies logic!

The proposal to restrict citizenship wasn't even on the city council's desk yet when a surge of people flooded Douglas and Pearson. Waving their money, they bought land en masse.

A few landowners who were hostile to outsiders proudly refused to sell, only to see even more money offered in front of them.

"You mean the land sold out?! In one day?"

After school the next day, Carter was stunned by this news as soon as he entered the bank.

"To be precise, all the land within three kilometers south of town is sold out! If you weren't with me last night, I'd suspect the fat guy being interviewed was your plant!"

"With his outburst, now everyone in Georgia knows we have the lowest interest rates and unemployment!"

This was a case of mixed feelings—pain and pleasure.

Having just signed a land sale contract on behalf of the bank, Goodman waved the contract at Carter:

"Look, this client came all the way from Albany! That's over a hundred kilometers from here. Normally, how would they know about our interest rates or conditions?"

"Huh? Are you saying Old Bass advertised for us with his life?"

Meeting Carter's incredulous gaze, Goodman tapped the contract again:

"How else do you explain this?"