[TWD x Resident Evil] — Chapter 289 - Freeze! This Is a Robbery!

Hermione shrugged nonchalantly. "Suit yourself. As long as it's willing to go with you."

Newt cautiously extended his hand, trying to lift the Niffler off Hermione's shoulder.

The moment the little creature spotted his fingers, it arched its back, let out a low rumbling growl, and flailed its tiny claws with unprecedented fury, latching onto Hermione's coat and refusing to budge.

Hermione raised an eyebrow and shrugged. "Looks like it clearly prefers a wealthy person like me over a broke one like you."

Newt: "..."

Heartache.

He silently withdrew his hand, turned, and walked out of the alley toward the bank entrance.

Hermione folded her arms, the contented Niffler draped across her shoulder, and followed at her leisure.

Inside the bank lobby, Newt headed straight for the counter. Hermione surveyed her surroundings, and her gaze quickly locked onto a dejected, slightly plump man hunched on a corner bench.

Her eyes lit up. She walked over.

"Sir, you don't look very happy. Has something happened?" Her voice was warm and polite.

The chubby man looked up. Seeing a pretty young woman in fine attire showing concern for him, his mood lifted considerably, and he couldn't help but start pouring out his troubles.

"Ah, don't even ask. My loan application was rejected again. Looks like my dream of opening a bakery is finished."

Hermione understood immediately. Sure enough, Jacob Kowalski, the original story's fate-chosen "designated victim."

Her eyes swiveled. She patted him on the shoulder. "Don't lose heart. Apply one more time. I guarantee you'll succeed."

Jacob looked utterly bewildered, barely processing what was happening, before Hermione half-pulled, half-dragged him back to the manager's office door.

The bank manager, seeing Jacob return after being shown out, frowned and said impatiently, "Your application has already been rejected, Mr. Kowalski. What are you doing back here?"

Hermione stepped forward, placing herself in front of Jacob. "Excuse me," she said calmly. "Why wasn't his loan approved?"

The manager, noticing that the one asking was a poised young woman in refined dress, softened his tone considerably compared to how he'd spoken to Jacob. "Miss, we're not deliberately making things difficult for him. It's simply that Mr. Kowalski hasn't provided sufficient collateral."

"Collateral." Hermione nodded. "I see."

She reached into the inside of her trench coat, pulled out a small, neat pistol, and slapped it down on the manager's desk. She smiled pleasantly. "Would this work?"

The manager flinched, but seeing it was a handgun, and then looking at Hermione's young face, he instinctively concluded this girl was trying to bluff him with a toy gun.

He steadied himself and shook his head firmly. "Miss, this... this won't do. Please leave immediately, or I'll have to call security."

Hermione picked up the pistol and aimed it at the vase beside him.

BANG!

The porcelain shattered on impact, fragments scattering across the desk and floor.

The manager felt a sharp whistle tear past his ear, followed by the enormous crack of the shot. He went white as a sheet on the spot, his whole body shaking like a leaf.

Hermione blew the wisp of smoke from the barrel, then turned the muzzle back toward the manager. Her smile was as sweet as ever. "So. Does it work now?"

The manager's face was ashen. Beads of sweat rolled down his forehead. He nodded rapidly, his voice coming out in a trembling mess. "Yes! Yes, absolutely yes!" He stammered, "M-might I ask... who exactly are you, miss?"

Hermione tucked the pistol away, smoothed her sleeves with elegant composure, and introduced herself.

"I am Hermione Granger. Witch by trade. And as a side occupation..." She paused. "Let's call it bank robber, for now."

She pulled open the office door, produced a Thompson submachine gun from somewhere entirely unclear, and let loose a burst at the bank lobby ceiling.

"RAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT—!"

"Nobody move! This is a robbery!"

The lobby went dead silent for one frozen second. Then came the screaming, and everyone scattered in all directions.

One more round of Hermione's submachine gun brought the chaos to an abrupt halt. Every person in the room dropped to the floor, hands over their heads, trembling, not one of them daring to make a sound.

Newt, who had been at the counter, stared with his mouth hanging open. He scrambled over to Hermione and hissed under his breath, "Hermione! What are you doing?! Have you gone completely mad?!"

Hermione looked at him with an expression of pure innocence. "I haven't gone mad. I'm a good person. I'm helping Mr. Jacob apply for his loan."

Newt and Jacob, whose legs had gone to jelly from the gunfire, both felt the corners of their mouths twitch violently at exactly the same moment.

Without another word of explanation, Hermione pulled two more pistols from her waist and shoved one into each of their hands.

"Take these. Keep an eye on everyone. I'm going to check the vault. If I come back and find you two missing, or any of these people have run off, I'll deal with you two first — then deal with them."

Newt and Jacob stood frozen, each gripping a pistol, staring at each other in dismay. They didn't dare run. They didn't dare raise the guns. Their minds had gone completely blank.

Several minutes later, Hermione emerged from the back of the bank, one hand casually hoisting a bulging burlap sack over her shoulder.

She walked up to the two of them and announced cheerfully, "Loan approved! Let's move!"

She grabbed the still-stupefied Newt and Jacob and bolted for the exit.

The moment they burst through the front doors, a piercing alarm shrieked to life inside.

Hermione spotted Tina immediately, still bound, struggling furiously at the mouth of the alley. She ran over and freed her with a casual flick of her hand.

Tina flexed her numb limbs, took in the scene, the blaring alarm, the bank staff and customers streaming out in a panicked rush, and turned to Hermione with a face full of confusion.

"What happened?"

Hermione slung the submachine gun over her shoulder. "Oh, nothing major. Just robbed a bank on the way out."

Tina stiffened. Her face filled with pure, wordless disbelief, as if a string of question marks had physically materialized above her head.

Jacob, who had finally clawed his way back from the edge of shock, stared at the submachine gun on Hermione's shoulder and the stuffed burlap sack in her hand. His voice came out half-sob, half-terror. "What kind of people are you?!"

Hermione patted his shoulder and explained with complete seriousness.

"Mr. Jacob, don't be afraid. We're wizards — the kind who can do magic. We're all good people who step in when we see someone treated unjustly. And look, your loan problem is sorted, isn't it?"

Jacob was screaming on the inside.

What kind of good people rob a bank with a machine gun?! And magic?! Been reading too many children's bedtime stories, have you?!

It's over. It's over. Today of all days. No loan, and three lunatics to go with it.

What a shame, such a pretty girl, looks perfectly normal, and she turns out to be a violent psychopath.

In the distance, bank guards and police were closing in fast.

Jacob threw caution aside entirely. He lunged forward, arms shooting straight up, and shouted at the top of his lungs:

"Officers! Officers! I'm not with them! I'm innocent!"

Hermione shook her head, muttering, "What a hassle."

She reached out and snagged Jacob by the back of his collar in one smooth motion. Her other hand pulled Newt and Tina in close.

The next second, all four of them vanished from the spot without a trace.

➤ Next: What Else Can We Do? Break Them Out