The flashlight beam made William unable to open his eyes, and the dazzling white light made his head, which was already dizzy due to hunger, even more dizzy.
He subconsciously raised his hands to block his eyes, groaning in his heart. This first night in New York was extremely thrilling for him, a novice time traveler.
Now he was caught by the police. If he was regarded as an accomplice or a suspect, it would be a big deal.
William tried hard to put on an innocent and slightly frightened expression, his voice just the right amount of hoarseness and fatigue.
"Officer, good evening. I live over there, and when I heard the fire and the strange noises, I thought something big was going on, so I... I just wanted to come over and see if I could be of any help."
His words were half true and half false. He lied about living nearby and wanted to help, but his cautious and commercial spirit was genuine.
The black policeman looked him up and down, his eyes as sharp as an eagle, and the beam of his flashlight swept across his face, as if he wanted to see through him.
"What's your name? Where do you live? What were you doing on the rooftop?"
A series of questions came like a barrage of cannonballs.
"William Rodriguez. I'm over there... uh, in the apartment building at the end of the street."
His shoulders slumped slightly, his voice softened, his eyes dodging, his toes unconsciously circling the ground. "I... I just heard some clanking up there, and curiosity got the better of me, so I... I just wanted to sneak a peek. I really didn't mean any harm, but I didn't expect to run into you, Officer."
"The sound of fighting?"
The policeman frowned even more tightly, and another white policeman next to him whispered something through the walkie-talkie.
William felt a thin layer of sweat on his back.
Now he just wanted to leave this place of trouble as soon as possible and fill his stomach that had been protesting for a long time.
"Yeah, it was like... well, fists and feet colliding, and some weird crackling noises."
Just then, there was a commotion downstairs. It seemed that the fire department had controlled the fire or found some other clues.
The black policeman received new instructions through the walkie-talkie and looked at William deeply with a hint of uncertainty in his eyes, but finally chose to let him go.
"Okay, Mr. Rodriguez, we'll verify your information. Now, this place is unsafe, please leave as soon as possible."
His tone was still serious, but he didn't seem to have any intention of getting into the details for the time being.
William nodded repeatedly as if he had been pardoned.
"Okay, okay, I'll leave now. I'm sorry to bother you officers."
As he spoke, he turned around as quickly as possible, even sliding down the stairs with a somewhat shaky step.
After escaping the police's sight, William let out a long sigh. The cramps in his stomach forced him to speed up his pace, and his eyes searched the streets shrouded in darkness.
The dim street lights barely illuminate a corner, where a lonely vending machine stands quietly like a ghost forgotten in the corner of time.
Its metal shell was covered with layers of old and new graffiti, like a patched rag. The coin slot had been pried open slightly by some unscrupulous guy, giving it a sense of shabby appearance.
William's eyes lit up slightly.
He thought of his weak ability, [Mechanical Sensing (Basic)], which he had just acquired and had not yet fully grasped.
William walked to the vending machine and pretended to look at the items inside casually.
On the shelf, several chocolate bars with faded packaging lay listlessly, and the soda cans next to them also looked droopy, probably because the air in them had long been lost.
He concentrated his mind and tried to stimulate that weak sensation.
An indescribable feeling spread from the cerebral cortex, like countless tiny tentacles penetrating into the internal structure of the vending machine.
In his mind, the internal wiring diagram of this dilapidated machine was clearly visible, and the wear of every gear and the looseness of every wire were clearly visible.
He "saw" a coin stuck deep in the coin return slot and a product selection button that was slightly deformed and had poor contact - the chocolate bar that looked the most tempting.
It's the chocolate bar that looks the most tempting.
William lingered in front of the vending machine for a moment as if nothing had happened, making sure that no one was around.
He reached out and, seemingly casually, tapped the faulty button, while at the same time lightly touching a specific spot on the bottom of the machine with his toe.
There was only a slight "click" sound, followed by a "clang" sound of falling.
A chocolate bar fell into the access port.
William quickly picked up the chocolate bar, tore open the wrapper, and stuffed it into his mouth in just a few bites.
The sweet taste mixed with the bitterness of cocoa melted in his empty stomach, bringing a long-lost sense of satisfaction that almost brought him to tears.
Although I was in a mess, at least I wasn't hungry anymore.
He smacked his lips and resisted the urge to touch the vending machine again.
No matter how small a mosquito is, it is still meat. There seem to be quite a few "free meals" on this street. At least I don't have to go hungry tonight.
The most important thing right now is to study how the system works.
"Regarding the initial claim points, how do I replenish them after using up 5 points?"
He remembered clearly that when he signed the contract with the "lone traveler" in the dark alley, the system deducted 5 points from him.
The trial version of the insurance policy I just gave to Arc Boy had 5 initial claim points deducted by the system as the cost.
William touched his chin.
It seems that these claim points are equivalent to his business funds and upgrade experience.
If you want to get more points, you must let the heroes actually buy his insurance and successfully file a claim.
"So, not only do I have to make them sign the contract, but I also have to...hope they have more 'little accidents'?"
This thought made him feel a little subtle, even with a hint of "black-hearted" guilt.
But he soon felt relieved.
On second thought, in New York, where there's a fight every three days and a big riot every five days, the probability of superheroes getting into an accident is probably higher than the probability of randomly grabbing someone on the street and asking him if he can fly.
"This isn't selling insurance, it's clearly opening a 'charity'... but in reverse."
William's lips curled up into a playful smile, and a gleam of light flashed in his eyes.
His business prospects seem to be "bright".
He had even sketched out a "beautiful" blueprint in his mind: heroes were fighting in the city, while he was silently counting the claims points behind the scenes and reaping the benefits.
This feeling is quite interesting.