USA, New York City, abandoned brewery. April 1, 1923.
Two friends, Henry Luce and Briton Hadden, watched from their office as workers set up the brewery for their needs. Ordering printing presses was pricey for them, but their Yale University classmates who believed in them gave startup capital and faith, so they couldn't let them down.
They believed "Time," their brainchild, would grow into a giant delivering fresh news to all citizens of their great, free country. They just needed to start, give it a push.
At that moment, a light cough sounded behind the two friends. Turning in fear, they saw an unfamiliar, well-built Asian sitting in a carved armchair upholstered in blue velvet. Though they clearly remembered only a couple old stools had been there before. "Mage," they realized, and their sweating intensified.
The Asian looked quite presentable. A blue aristocratic suit with several top buttons undone, revealing a strong muscled chest. He looked young, about twenty, a few years younger than the guys. His deep dark-blue eyes seemed to mock-smile at them, matched by his hair. And as if showing off, he pulled a steaming, aromatic hot tea cup from thin air, sipped, now smiling not just with eyes.
"How can we help the esteemed mage lord?" Henry Luce recovered faster than his buddy and bowed deeply. Mages were humanity's true rulers. Killing two regular guys like them would net this man at most a fine. A slightly bigger one if foreign, so he took a submissive stance from the start.
"Now, now, no need to get so nervous. I'm not here to kill you, am I?" The stranger smirked slyly. But Henry didn't buy the casual vibe and yanked his finally recovered friend's shirt, forcing him to bow too.
"Eh, you're such bores. I hoped to toy with your nerves a bit longer, but your reactions are too predictable. Straighten up and sit before me. I have a business proposal, and if we agree, I'll become a permanent sponsor of your brainchild. A VERY major sponsor." The mage waved his free hand, and two sturdy armchairs appeared a meter and a half away. They were a bit inferior to his, but not stools showed he meant business, which thrilled them. And if the sponsorship was real, perfect. But conditions first.
"Well then, let's get acquainted. Name's Mu Bai, from the Chinese Mu Clan branch, but that's irrelevant to you; coming here was my personal initiative, unlinked to the clan. See, I'm a big history buff, but it bugs me digging hours in archives for info I want. I'd rather relax with a few articles in a weekly mag, not hours amid dusty archive boxes. Clear so far?" Mu Bai gave them a questioning look.
"B-but our idea is fresh news, not archives. Such outdated, niche info would bore most readers." Brighton stumbled at first but voiced his view. He burned for his idea and didn't want to turn "Time" into an unappealing history mag, even for big money.
"Ooo, no worries, I get your concerns. Don't fret; I picked you precisely for your mag's character." To their surprise, the mage didn't rage but smiled softly.
"Then what do you propose?" Henry asked more intrigued. Mage life was rarely covered beyond city attacks or gov funding. If Mu Bai meant fresh magic news, that could intrigue people.
"I propose splitting your mag into two columns: magic and regular. The first covers the magic world's news in simple language even normals grasp. Add a beginner's column explaining magic accessibly. The longer the mag runs, the more people understand mages and stop seeing them as 'other.' Agree, normals might never see a monster in life except military-tamed ones. Not knowing where tax money goes, they feel no warmth for mages." Mu Bai drew them into his vision.
"We'll give that understanding. We can make mages stars envied by celebs, even humanity's heroes—which they are. Besides general news, weekly feature one outstanding young mage's life story, achievements, contributions. People'll pick favorites, rank, argue who's strongest. Sounds fun? And if the cover mage is hot, snag a slice of fashion mags." Mu Bai grinned slyly at the friends.
"Your idea's truly intriguing, Mr. Mu Bai. I can see people loving it, especially the fashion bite. But how does your history passion fit?" Brighton asked sincerely. He loved it; he and his friend itched to implement. But where did history fit?
"Good question. So young mages have idols to aspire to, end the magic column with an article like the young ones—but on ancestors. Those who elevated humanity here. Past strongest mages, top craft masters, rare talents, heaven-defying Seed effects, best plant combos, more. Add a column on current top mages so people feel protected. Comparing to past greats will spur this generation threefold, benefiting normals with stronger guardians and mages with clear goals to surpass. That's my idea. Fill the regular column as you like. Or split into two mags. Regular as 'Time,' magic... you name it." Mu Bai finished passionately, waving for questions.
"We're very interested. Connections among mages would be great; gov'll love this initiative. Normals and mages are somewhat divided; your idea could bridge and unite them. But investments..." Henry glanced at his friend. Such a grand vision, gov ties, archive staff hires needed big funds; they doubted a young mage could provide.
"Ooo, investments no issue, new friends. I won't even ask for a company share. Just a perk over regular readers: all gathered archive info well-cataloged and copied to me. Building my 'outstanding personalities' history library." Mu Bai smirked slyly.
"And on getting such big investments anonymously..." Mu Bai rose, stowed his tea, approached the nervous friends, draped arms over their shoulders, leaned in, whispered:
"Now I'll tell you two great money-laundering ways..."