William felt the temperature of his cheeks soaring at Rocket speed; he estimated he could fry an egg on them.
"Tony! Let me explain! This is absolutely a huge misunderstanding! That money… that money is compensation! Yes, compensation!"
He had a flash of inspiration and finally grasped a lifeline.
Tony Stark raised an eyebrow, arms crossed, with a look that said, "I'm all ears for your performance."
"Oh? Compensation? Who compensated you? Or who did you compensate? For what? Sofa wear and tear? Or nightstand emotional distress?"
"It's… it's a client's advance payment! Yes, a rather… generous client, who paid the consultation fee in advance!"
William felt like he was about to run out of lies; they were full of holes like a sieve.
The little person inside him had already started praying for Tony to quickly lose interest in this topic.
"Consultation fee? Paid in cash? And precisely two dollars and twenty-five cents?"
Tony's smile grew more playful.
"Little Xiao Wei, your client Base is quite unique. Next time, if there's a chance, introduce me. I also want to consult on how to make Pepper deduct less of my pocket money."
William: "..."
Kill me now, immediately, right away!
Fortunately, Tony Stark's gossip soul didn't burn for long.
He glanced at the seemingly ordinary watch on his wrist, which William knew with his toes was definitely more expensive than his entire apartment.
"Alright, I'm done teasing you. I have to go; Pepper is waiting for me."
Tony stretched and walked towards the balcony.
"That bus seat… do you want to keep it as a souvenir? Or should I take you for another ride sometime?"
"No need! Mr. Tony! Thank you very much for your 'Stark Airlines,' but my old bones might be more suited for ground transportation!"
William flatly refused, fearing that the other party would really treat that thing as a regular mode of transport.
What if Iron Man, on a whim one day, carried him through a 360-degree, no-dead-angle aerial stunt show over New York? Who would he complain to?
Tony shrugged, his armor quickly covering his body.
"Alright, you cheapskate. Talk to you later."
With a whoosh, Iron Man had disappeared into the night sky, leaving only a faint smell of char and the lonely bus seat on the balcony.
William let out a long sigh, feeling all the strength drained from his body.
He slumped onto the sofa, staring at the ceiling and contemplating life.
That guy finally left.
If he stayed any longer, he feared he would have to dig up all eighteen generations of his ancestors.
"A woman's scent… 'Midnight Seduction'… sofa indentation… nightstand marks…"
William muttered to himself, feeling more and more scared the more he thought about it.
Tony Stark's observational skills were comparable to military-grade reconnaissance satellites, complete with chemical composition analysis and micro-expression reading functions.
He seriously suspected that if he had eaten chive pockets last night, Tony could accurately analyze the origin and vintage of the chives.
"System, I strongly recommend you develop an 'anti-reconnaissance' or 'trace elimination' ability for me, otherwise I'll be exposed sooner or later because of these messes!"
The next day, the sun was bright.
William had faint dark circles under his eyes, mainly from being scared by Tony last night, plus the brain cells consumed by contemplating life.
The coffee beans in his apartment had just run out, so he decided to go out and find a quiet coffee shop to sort through his client list and future business development.
"Anxiang Duxingzhe (Dark Alley Walker)'s basic package is stable income… Dianhu Xiaozi and these trial clients, I need to find a way to convert them… Maxwell and Peter Parker have huge potential, but also high risk, so I need to maintain them carefully… As for Tony Stark…"
William clicked his tongue; this guy was a walking "claims payout ATM" plus an "unpredictable surprise (scare) generator."
Serving him well was equivalent to serving ten ordinary superheroes.
He randomly found a coffee shop on the corner, ordered an espresso, and took a seat by the window.
The sun shone through the glass, warm on his body, slightly relaxing his taut nerves.
"I need to categorize my clients: high-risk, high-reward; low-risk, stable income; and those… who are purely here to grind experience for the system."
William took out his tablet and started sketching, building his "client pyramid model."
At the top, naturally, were sugar daddies like Stark; in the middle were those with potential for continuous output like Parker and Murdock; and the Base consisted of those small-time street troublemakers.
Just as he was intently planning "equipment upgrade insurance packages" and "accuracy enhancement riders" for Slingshot Kid, a figure sat down in the empty seat opposite him.
"Excuse me, is this seat taken?"
A pleasant and professional female voice spoke.
William looked up to see a neatly dressed woman.
Her golden hair was immaculate, and her grey professional skirt accentuated her tall figure.
She wore a perfectly balanced smile, neither overly enthusiastic nor overly distant.
Overall, she gave the impression of an elite professional, the kind who frequents high-rise offices and earns a million a year or more.
"No, please sit."
William responded politely, but inwardly he was muttering:
New client?
Judging by her demeanor, she doesn't seem like the type who needs "Street Brawl Medical Insurance."
Could it be… corporate insurance?
I don't sell that either!
"Thank you."
The lady nodded slightly and took out a business card holder from her exquisite handbag.
"Forgive my intrusion, Mr. William Rodriguez, right? My name is Barbara Miller, and I am a venture capital consultant."
Whoa!
Does his sole proprietorship actually have clients seeking him out now?
William took the business card.
It felt substantial in his hand, with a simple yet elegant design.
"Barbara Miller… venture capital?"
He mumbled, his brain working at high speed.
Why would a venture capital consultant seek out an insurance salesman like him?
Could she be looking to invest in him, to help him expand his insurance business and achieve new glory?
This doesn't feel right!
Just then, the long-absent system prompt suddenly blared in his mind.
"Ding! S.H.I.E.L.D. Level Seven Agent 'Mockingbird' — Barbara Morse (current disguised identity: Barbara Miller) detected!"
"Target characteristics: Proficient in various martial arts, espionage techniques, firearms usage, skilled in infiltration and intelligence gathering."
"System suggestion: Consider promoting the 'Top Agent Professional Risk Protection Plan' or 'Secret Mission Accidental Casualty Insurance'."
William's hand, holding the coffee cup, trembled almost imperceptibly.
His smile almost faltered.
Holy cow!
S.H.I.E.L.D. is relentless!
And they even sent a top Agent to fish for him?
Do they really think so highly of a humble insurance salesman like me!
Barbara Miller seemed unaware of William's unusual reaction and continued:
"I am very interested in your achievements, Mr. Rodriguez, in the field of… special risk management."
"Our company is currently evaluating some… highly uncertain but potentially huge projects. Perhaps we could discuss the possibility of cooperation?"
William: "..."
Cooperation?
Me, cooperate with you?
I'm afraid if I sign a contract today, tomorrow I'll be "cooperating" at a secret S.H.I.E.L.D. Base!
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