Ultimately, Hamaka accepted the win-win proposal.
"Shall we go sign the contract now?" As chief, he had the authority to sign the agreement.
"No need to rush. I have many more good things to show you, like this security robot."
Aomori picked up a robot that looked like a garbage can and, like a salesman, introduced its uses in detail to Hamaka.
"Its primary function is street patrol. The camera on its head can clearly identify faces, easily spotting fugitives. It's also equipped with an energy sensor, allowing it to quickly locate Monsters through high-energy readings. Although it looks like a trash can, it can function as one in ordinary times, fixed in the streets and alleys. It can be activated when necessary to monitor the movements of Monsters."
As Hamaka looked slightly embarrassed, Aomori continued, "Compared to ordinary surveillance cameras, it has the advantages of being able to camouflage, being durable, and having strong flexibility. The most important thing is that it can be equipped with weapons."
"Equipped with weapons? Are you saying..." Hamaka asked in surprise.
"Yes. When necessary, it can transform into a combat robot, buying time for people in crisis while waiting for backup."
"Hmm, it sounds wonderful, but you know the Police Guard is a bit short on funds," Hamaka demurred.
"It's fine. Actually, this robot isn't primarily aimed at you. I'm more interested in recommending it to the Mayor. What do you think?"
A purple light flashed in Aomori's eyes, and a soft voice drifted into Hamaka's mind, causing him to nod unconsciously and say, "I think it's excellent and worth recommending to the Mayor, but success isn't guaranteed."
"It doesn't matter. As long as they come for a visit, I'm sure I can convince them," Aomori smiled slightly.
Afterward, Hamaka looked at a few more new products, but none held his interest. After signing the endorsement contract with Aomori, he left the Purple Shield company.
In the reception room, Aomori was closing his eyes, resting, looking exhausted.
Beside him, Miss Fujiwara stared unblinkingly at Aomori for a long time before finally saying, "Aomori, what exactly are you planning? Being a hero, founding Purple Shield, and now partnering with the Police Guard... I feel like you're playing a very big game of chess."
"Heh, what does it matter if I tell you? I want to legalize heroism, I want hero work to be a legitimate profession with proper benefits, and I want to establish the Hero Association to lead heroes in eliminating all Monsters."
The voice was calm, yet ringing with conviction.
"Are you serious?" Miss Fujiwara blurted out. As merely a celebrity manager, she always felt that heroes and Monsters were distant realities. Had she not become Aomori's manager, she likely would have treated them as mere urban legends.
However, she felt that Aomori might truly be capable of achieving these things. Having accompanied him on his journey from an unknown street Ultimate Hottie to one of the most famous people in the world today, Miss Fujiwara knew just how formidable this disciplined and goal-oriented man was.
I wish I could stay by his side forever and see how far he can go.
"So, will you still be a big star?" Miss Fujiwara nervously played with a lock of hair by her ear.
"I'll see out the contract period. There must be a proper beginning and end to things." His contract still had over a year left.
"I see." Miss Fujiwara felt a sense of emptiness, but forced a bright smile. "Then I wish you success!"
"What are you talking about?" Aomori looked into her eyes and said, "It's we who will succeed. Don't you want to see me every day, Miss Fujiwara?"
"Huh?"
"Come and be my exclusive secretary. This is what every girl dreams of. You wouldn't refuse, would you?"
Being able to see Aomori every day was indeed something a girl would dream of.
"Hmm, since you asked personally, wouldn't it be rude if I didn't agree?" Miss Fujiwara tilted her head, gently swaying her body as she spoke softly.
"Very well. I'll give you ten minutes. I want all the information on this man." Aomori took out a photograph and placed it in front of her.
"Ah, oh."
…
Mr. Oomoto was not having a good time.
After the Martial Arts Tournament incident, although Aomori had spoken up for him and defused much of the public's malice, the incident was posted online and caused a very negative impact. The Martial Arts Association eventually fired him.
Not only that, but when he went for job interviews, the moment they saw the name 'Mr. Oomoto,' the interviewers' faces changed, and he was immediately turned away.
From being the Organization Department Section Chief with a bright future at the Martial Arts Association to becoming an unwanted unemployed man, his life had indeed taken a huge turn.
"Daddy, I want sirloin steak for dinner."
At home, his 5-year-old youngest son whined to Mr. Oomoto.
"Ah, I'm afraid not, sweetie. Daddy doesn't have a job, so we can't afford things like that anymore."
"No, no, I want it!"
"Be good. I'll make you a shark fin seafood stew. Didn't you really like that last time?" Mr. Oomoto patiently tried to persuade him.
"Oh, fine."
Seeing his son's disappointed expression, Mr. Oomoto felt as if his heart was being sliced into a thousand pieces. 'I'm truly useless. As a father, I can't even satisfy such a small request from my son.'
Just as he was drowning in regret, the phone rang.
"Hello, this is the Oomoto residence."
"Yes, that's me."
As he listened, Mr. Oomoto's expression gradually became serious: "Yes! No problem, I will be there, absolutely!"
After hanging up, Mr. Oomoto put on his best suit with the fastest speed he had ever moved, and dashed out the door.
His youngest son was stunned: "Daddy, what about my dinner?!"
"Oh, right." The door reopened, and Mr. Oomoto called back, "You'll have to order some takeout tonight. Daddy loves you!"
With that, he rushed off, leaving his youngest son wailing.
Driving his car, Mr. Oomoto showcased his true skill, speeding all the way and reaching his destination in just 10 minutes.
"Purple Shield Company. This is it."
Before getting out, Mr. Oomoto used a hand with hair gel to fix his hairstyle and tidied his appearance. Only after confirming everything was in order did he open the car door and walk into the seemingly modest yet luxurious company building.
After entering and announcing his name, someone led him to a reception room. There, Mr. Oomoto saw a super handsome man and a conventionally attractive woman.
"Aomori-san, Fujiwara-san, good afternoon. I am Oomoto," Mr. Oomoto offered a reserved but polite smile.
Mr. Oomoto had a very ordinary appearance, a slightly plump physique, but his slicked-back hair made Aomori look twice.
"Oomoto-san, please have a seat. To be frank, I took the liberty of inviting you here because I want you to join my newly formed association. Your experience is plentiful, and your actions during the Martial Arts Tournament fully demonstrated your quick thinking and resourcefulness. You are exactly the talent I need," Aomori said, sitting at the other end of the long table, getting straight to the point.
"Thank you for the compliment. It was just a little cleverness, nothing worth mentioning. May I ask about the salary?"
"For the probationary period, your salary and benefits will match your previous job. After regularization, they will be doubled..."
"Say no more, I accept!" Mr. Oomoto declared decisively.
"You won't ask what you need to do?"
"No need! I can do anything, as long as I can follow you, sir!"
Miss Fujiwara, sitting next to Aomori, maintained a smile, though it was a little strained.
"Heh. Then come in to work tomorrow."
"Yes, sir!"
Aomori closed his eyes. Miss Fujiwara discreetly left to see Mr. Oomoto out.
After more than half a year of development, fame, funding, connections, and a core team were all in place.
Everything was ready; all that was missing was a catalyst.
"A catalyst," Aomori thought, a certain image flashing through his mind.
That was the origin of everything.