William almost threw his phone away, mistaking its vibration for some new type of miniature bomb.
There were only a few words on the screen, blunt as a command: "Our usual spot, nine o'clock. Let's talk."
There was no signature, only an unfamiliar number.
At the end of the text message was also an image.
A chain.
William's temples throbbed, and it felt as if hundreds of alarm bells were screaming in his head simultaneously.
Our usual spot?
Which usual spot?
Was it that abandoned warehouse from last time, reeking of rust and sweat?
Or was it "Harley's Massage Parlor," which had physically revitalized his lower back (and possibly ended his career)?
No matter which one, the sender was undoubtedly Chain Bro, even if one only thought about it with their toes.
"Let's talk? What's there for me to talk about with you! Life ideals? Or perhaps discuss the future development trends of massage techniques?"
William ranted to the phone screen, his voice only audible to himself.
He didn't believe Chain Bro was so bored that he wanted to discuss his post-massage experience and the chemical composition of that 'bruise-healing ointment.'
Nine o'clock, abandoned warehouse.
William arrived five minutes early.
Not because he was punctual, but because he wanted to secure a relatively advantageous (easy to escape) position.
Inside the warehouse.
The only half-dead light bulb cast a circle of dim yellow light, just enough to illuminate a small area in the center.
Chain Bro stood with his back to the entrance.
He was wiping his intimidatingly thick iron chain, one stroke at a time, with a certain rhythm.
The metal friction produced a soft "shush" sound, exceptionally clear in the silent night.
William cleared his throat, trying to make his opening sound less like a last will: "Ahem, Chain Bro? You... needed me?"
Chain Bro stopped his movements and slowly turned around.
His face was hidden in shadow.
He still looked like a ghost, showing no expression.
But William felt like he was being targeted by a hawk, every hair on his body standing on end.
"Your ointment."
Chain Bro spoke, cutting straight to the chase.
"And the massage parlor you went to."
William's heart sank. Here it comes, as expected, the reckoning.
He feigned composure: "The ointment works well, right? It's our company's exclusive secret formula. As for the massage... I was just injured personally."
"Doesn't look like it."
Chain Bro's reply was simple and blunt, directly refuting William's "modesty."
"I need more of that ointment."
He changed the subject, then asked.
"Also, what exactly is the background of your 'company'?"
William's mind raced faster than a server.
Was this... a test?
Or simply a customer's inquiry about needs?
He decided to take a big gamble.
"Of course, we have the ointment, but that's an exclusive care product our company provides to VIP clients, part of our value-added services."
William flashed his signature professional smile and pulled a tablet from his briefcase.
"As for my company..."
William swiped his finger on the tablet, bringing up a pre-set policy template.
"Our company specializes in providing one-stop comprehensive coverage for tough individuals like you, who are doing extraordinary things in ordinary positions!"
Chain Bro said nothing, just looked at him.
William felt like he was selling insurance to a statue, but his years of professional experience made him grit his teeth and continue:
"The 'street vigilante minor injury mutual aid insurance (trial version)' you experienced last time is just the tip of the iceberg of our many products.
"Considering the nature of your work, constantly getting into fights, and your equipment also prone to wear and tear, I personally strongly recommend you look into our 'Basic Package'!"
He turned the tablet towards Chain Bro, the screen clearly displaying: "Basic Package, covers equipment, covers minor injuries, $89.1 per month."
"Basic Package? Is that the name of the insurance?"
Chain Bro finally reacted, weighing the iron chain in his hand.
"Exactly!"
Upon hearing a potential deal, William became energized, his voice rising by an octave.
"Including, but not limited to, your... uh, multi-functional fitness equipment!
Whether it's accidental breakage, severe wear and tear.
Or inadvertently lost while performing 'special missions'.
"As long as it meets our claims regulations, whether it's repair or compensation, we've got it covered!"
He paused, emphasizing: "Of course, minor disability insurance is also essential.
After all, if you walk by the river often, how can your shoes not get wet?
With your skills, if you accidentally strain a ligament or dislocate a joint one day, we can also provide quick claims settlement.
Ensuring you receive the most professional treatment immediately, to quickly return to combat... I mean, work status!"
Chain Bro silently looked at the terms on the tablet.
For a moment, only the faint "sizzle" of electricity passing through the old light bulb filled the warehouse.
William's heart was in his throat.
"$89.1 a month?"
Chain Bro's tone revealed no emotion.
"Yes, sir!"
William nodded immediately.
"That's less than three U.S. dollars a day on average! What can three U.S. dollars buy? Maybe just a mediocre fast food meal. But here, it can provide solid protection for your safety and your 'bread and butter'!"
"Think about it, if your chain fails at a critical moment, the loss won't be something a mere few tens of U.S. dollars can make up for!"
William felt he was truly wasting his talent by not doing stand-up comedy.
Chain Bro looked up.
The dim yellow light cast two shadows on his mask, and William felt as if he was being cut back and forth by the sharp gaze behind those shadows.
"If I buy it, can I get more ointment next time?"
"Pfft—" William almost spat out a mouthful of old blood.
After all that, this is what you were thinking about?
He changed his expression at lightning speed, smiling like a flower: "Absolutely! Once you become our official customer, all sorts of member benefits are yours for the taking!"
"For example, regular deliveries of your special ointment, priority for equipment maintenance, and... exclusive one-on-one customer service consultation!"
Although this exclusive customer service was currently still him.
Chain Bro seemed to be weighing his options.
William decided to strike while the iron was hot: "Sign up now, and I'll immediately apply for a 'New Customer Welcome Package' for you! It not only contains the enhanced ointment you want but also many other good things, guaranteed you won't regret it!"
"Deal." Chain Bro uttered two words, crisp and decisive.
[Customer "Chain Vigilante" has agreed to repurchase the policy: "Basic Package". Policy is being generated...]
[Policy generated!]
[Customer "Chain Vigilante" successfully insured with "Basic Package (Monthly Payment Version)"]
William was overjoyed, but maintained his professional fake smile, his fingers flying across the tablet, completing the electronic signing.
"Pleasure doing business, Chain Bro! From now on, you are one of our company's most esteemed VIP clients!"
William extended his hand.
Chain Bro did not shake his hand, only grunted through his nose, which served as a response.
"Ointment." He reminded him.
"Arranging it for you immediately!"
From his briefcase, William "conjured" a dark green ointment tube, noticeably larger than the previous trial size and with more exquisite packaging, along with a small metal tool maintenance kit.
"This is part of the 'Customer Feedback Welcome Package,' please accept it with pleasure."
Chain Bro took the items, said no unnecessary words, and turned to walk deeper into the warehouse.
"Uh, Chain Bro," William called out behind him, "do I need to contact you to make an appointment for the next massage?"
Chain Bro's steps paused for a moment; he didn't turn back, just raised his hand and waved, as if shooing away a noisy fly.