Chapter Nine: The Bank Incident.

Firstbank, Lagos.

Yaba Branch.

Since crowded places made him nauseous, Milkos did not flinch when he got sandwiched into the stuffy Transaction Area of the banking hall. He had come to deposit some cash. The line of people on the deposit queue was almost fifteen feet long. So he opted for a cold cup of water from the dispenser while waiting for the queue to be decongested.

When it was finally his turn to perform his transaction, he walked up to the counter, smiled at the beautiful bank representative and slid his fat wad of a thousand naira notes across it, the rep took the money and counted with the machine.

While she was busy shuffling the cash and recounting, he placed a black square micromagnetic device on the slab, finger-flicked it. He aimed for her System Unit which fortunately for him was propped on the same desk where the Monitor sat.

The device silently stuck to the System Unit.

Milkos was delighted.

The light-skinned representative gleamed a smile at him. "Sign here."

He dropped his fake information on the register. The rep slid his receipt across to him. He took it and thanked her for the help.

"I'm very grateful."

She winked.

On his way out, he scrutinized the bank slip and he found what he was looking for and smiled.

She had written her number and her Instagram handle behind the slip.

Five-feet-nine with sideburns and developing pectorals, a bespectacled Milkos was a sight to behold.

He had taken extra time to get a clean shave before coming to the bank, betting on his caramel goodness and sexually appealing yet innocent face to work magic.

And it did.

Women are not only easily moved by what they hear, but also by what they see. The bank representative was going to play a vital role in this cause.

If Seven could do things this way, maybe he wouldn't have fallen for that shit.

Anyways.

Stage four, complete.