The crowd was roaring with laughter when they heard Noah mocking Kingsley.
"Crap, the guy almost got me! I really thought he was some rich kid with more money than sense!"
"Come on, look at the clothes he's wearing; they're all bargain stuff! As if someone like him has
money!"
"Hah! I gotta admit that I'm impressed by how he blatantly hurls empty brags like that!"
Pleased to hear everyone joining in the mockery, Noah scoffed at Kingsley and said, "Maybe you
should consider using better props the next time you wanna come off as a bigshot, kid. That bank card
of yours is a dead giveaway of how pathetic you really are. I'd die of embarrassment if I were you!"
Serena felt blood rushing to her cheeks as she said in hushed tones, "What are you doing, Kingsley?
Everyone's watching. What if your card gets declined and you end up humiliating yourself?"
Upon hearing this, Noah chuckled and interjected contemptuously, "Oh, afraid of public humiliation,
Serena? Let me give you a piece of advice as someone who tried to pursue you romantically once:
stay away from idiots like this punk over here or his stupid will rub off on you."
"You—" A cold gleam flashed in Serena's eyes. She wanted nothing more than to end Noah's life right
there and then!
He ignored the deadly look she was shooting him and turned to address Frank politely, "I'm terribly
sorry for the inconvenience, Mr. Lowell. We'll leave before we affect your business any more than we
already have."
Frank was pulled away from his thoughts when he heard this. He blinked out of his daze and quickly
returned the Elite Gold Card to Kingsley as he said respectfully, "Here you go, sir."
Although he knew the card had no credit limit, he would need nerves of steel to actually swipe it. He
shuddered at the thought of offending a man who possessed enough power to own a card like that; he
was only a boutique manager, and he couldn't handle the consequences of rubbing someone like
Kingsley wrong.
"So, you realized that the bank card is just a piece of plastic, huh, Mr. Lowell?" Noah pointed out
sarcastically. "Honestly, there's no need for you to treat this desperate wannabe here with such respect.
Call security over and have him thrown out!"
"Shall I call security, sir?" Frank asked, but much to everyone's astonishment, he was addressing
Kingsley.
Noah's eyes widened in shock. "Mr. Lowell, what are you asking him for? He's just a village idiot—"
However, he had yet to get his insult out when Frank turned and gestured toward the boutique behind
him, then bowed at Kingsley in reverence as he added, "If you do not wish to resort to calling security,
then you are welcome to take the fight into our boutique. There's ample room in there for scuffling, not
to mention air-conditioning. It's the optimum boxing ring, if I do say so myself. Should you require back-
up, we have three shop assistants, all six-feet-two walking blocks of muscle, at your disposal. I am
proud to say that I have a black belt in karate as well, and I would be honored to help you beat up this
man."
The crowd, alongside Noah, gaped at the manager in stunned silence.
None of them could understand why Frank had gone from wanting to throw Kingsley out to offering to
beat up Noah for him within minutes.
"M-Mr. Lowell," Noah stammered in disbelief. He was starting to think that Kingsley had put some kind
of mind-controlling spell on Frank.
Presently, Kingsley eyed Noah coldly and asked, "What do you say, Mr. Morris? Care to take this fight
inside where there's air conditioning?"
"You—you little—screw you! You just wait till we get to the Bayou! I'll get you then!" Noah glared at
Serena, then at the eager-to-please Frank. Realizing that he had nothing to gain from picking a fight
with Kingsley here, he spun on his heels and stormed off.
Frank asked earnestly, "Is there anything else I can help you with, sir?"
Kingsley paused in thought. "Just a moment, please." He turned to Serena. "How many people are
attending the banquet today?"
"About twenty or so, I suppose," Serena answered, though not without confusion."Why are you
asking?"
"I have to make you look good in front of them, no?" Kingsley grinned. He tossed the card to Frank
once more and said, "I'll take thirty of the finest belts in your boutique."
Frank nearly sputtered in surprise as he bowed his head and said with utmost respect, "We have sixty-
eight belt designs in our boutique collection, the best of which retails for eighty-eight thousand."
The crowd drew in a sharp breath collectively when they heard this. Eighty-eight thousand was money
that the average working-class person would only see after two years' worth of labor!
Even Serena swallowed upon hearing the price. She muttered under her breath, "That's the bounty for
killing a Grade C Target."
Kingsley waved his hand dismissively, unaffected by the lucrative price. "Very well, I'll take thirty of that
design. Could you pack them up nicely and have them sent to the Bayou in a short while?"
"I-I shall get to it right away," Frank said with a bright smile, then hurried back into the store with the
Elite Gold Card in hand.
The passers-by who had gathered here were incredulous as they frenziedly whispered among
themselves.
"Holy crap, I didn't just imagine that, did I? Thirty of those belts? That's over two million, isn't it?"
"Maybe this is one of those prank shows. You don't think that credit card was just a prop, do you?"
While the crowd debated on this, Frank came jogging up to Kingsley and beamed as he returned the
card. Then, he asked, "I will personally deliver the orders to the Bayou, sir. How should I address you
and which room will you be dining in?"
"You can call me Mr. Nicholson," Kingsley said. He nudged Serena, who was still dumbfounded, and
asked, "Serena, which room will the banquet be held in?"
"Oh, uh, sixth floor, the Carolina Court," she replied.
At once, Frank said, "Very well, Mr. Nicholson. Don't you worry; the delivery of your orders will receive
utmost priority!"
Having seen the demeanor with which Frank treated Kingsley, the crowd understood that there was no
way the card was a mere prop. All of them had their jaws wide open as they gaped at the latter with
unmistakable admiration and envy.
Following this, Kingsley bought himself and Serena an outfit each. They left the store after changing
into their new clothes, and Frank saw them out of the designer boutique with reverence.
It was only when they had walked out of the premises that Serena asked, "Kingsley, what happened
back there? Why did the manager treat you like you're someone super important?"
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