The old yellow taxi, like a ghost ship, silently merged into the traffic and disappeared.
As if it had never appeared.
William stood on the sidewalk.
He felt like a paratrooper precisely deployed to a mission site by a professional team.
Jack Lockley.
This silent "Director of Transportation" showed him two things through his actions.
First, his intelligence network was indeed effective.
Second, he was very interested in William's proposed "information synchronization" and "vehicle upgrade" protocols.
William's gaze passed through the traffic and landed on the glass window of the coffee shop across the street.
Maxwell Dillon was sitting there.
His back was ramrod straight.
His posture was a bit stiff.
Like a poor boy attending a high-class banquet for the first time.
He wasn't looking at his phone, nor was he looking at the menu.
He was just staring blankly out the window.
Staring at the Oscorp building, glittering in the sunlight.
His eyes were a mixture of humble admiration and undisguised longing.
The coffee shop's doorbell rang again.
William didn't walk directly to Maxwell; instead, he first went to the counter and ordered the cheapest Americano, then, holding the cup, he walked over unhurriedly like an old acquaintance he'd run into.
"Mr. Dillon, what a coincidence, you like the coffee here too?"
Maxwell was startled by the sudden voice.
His body trembled violently, almost knocking over the Water glass in front of him.
He turned his head and, seeing it was William, his face instantly showed a complex expression mixed with awkwardness, surprise, and a touch of flattery.
"Mr. Ro... Rodriguez! Why... why are you here too?"
"Discussing a business deal."
William calmly sat down opposite Maxwell, placing his coffee on the table.
His gaze followed Maxwell's previous line of sight towards the massive creation of glass and steel.
"Oscorp, the pride of New York, isn't it? Technology, power, future... all the beautiful words seem to apply to it."
William's words were like a key, instantly opening Maxwell's floodgates.
"Yes! Yes!"
Maxwell's eyes lit up again; much of his previous stiffness dissipated, replaced by an almost fanatical admiration.
"You think so too? They... they are changing the World! Mr. Norman Osborn, he's a genius! A true genius!"
"I... I read his news every day, read his papers... though I don't understand a lot of them."
He scratched his head a bit sheepishly, his smile full of the humility of "I'm not worthy."
"I just came... came here to soak in the atmosphere."
He said in a low voice.
"I submitted my resume to them, although... although it probably won't even be looked at. But being closer feels like I can catch a bit of that light of wisdom."
William's heart sank a little.
This was no longer a simple job application; it was a pilgrimage.
A desperate man placing all his hopes on an illusory idol.
"Mr. Dillon."
William's tone softened, like an encouraging professional mentor.
"Your electrical engineering skills are very solid, as seen from that substation last time. Have you ever considered that the most cutting-edge places often come with the most cutting-edge risks?"
He extended his finger.
Tapping the building through the glass.
"I can 'feel' it."
William said, half-truthfully.
"That building, it's like a giant with an irregular heartbeat. Its energy system is too vast; raging energy surges through countless arteries and capillaries. Any tiny malfunction could trigger a chain reaction."
He could even vaguely feel that the faint electric current within him was being agitated by the massive electromagnetic field emanating from the building, creating a trace of uneasy restlessness.
"I... I hadn't thought about any of that."
Maxwell was stunned by William's professional description.
"So you need to consider it."
William leaned forward, his voice lowered, full of allure.
"Your 'free trial insurance' is about to expire. I have a customized upgrade plan for you here — the 'High-Tech Enterprise Employee Special Risk Protection Agreement'."
"It not only covers conventional work injuries but also specifically targets special risks such as high-energy radiation, bio-electrical contamination, and experimental equipment malfunctions."
"The premium isn't high, but it can give you true peace of mind when working inside such a 'giant'."
He tried to use the most familiar business logic to lay a speed bump on Maxwell's destined path.
Maxwell's face showed clear signs of being swayed.
He looked at William's sincere face, then at the future he longed for, and fell into a struggle.
"But... I haven't gotten the job yet."
He said awkwardly.
"I can't... afford the premium right now."
"That's not important." William waved his hand, his smile appearing particularly generous.
"I can reserve a spot for you first, and I can even recommend another company to you."
He revealed his trump card.
"Stark Industries, their energy department is hiring recently. Better benefits, more humane corporate culture."
"Most importantly, their security systems and risk control are the best in the World. Your skills will receive true respect and protection there."
Tony Stark or Norman Osborn?
William placed the two names before Maxwell, like a high-stakes gamble concerning fate.
Maxwell was completely stunned.
Stark Industries?
That playboy Tony Stark?
He subconsciously frowned.
In the eyes of a small person like him, Stark Industries was a flashy, internet-famous company, while Oscorp, under Norman Osborn's perfect persona, was a down-to-earth, inspiring doer.
"Thank you, Mr. Rodriguez,"
He hesitated for a long time, but finally slowly shook his head, his gaze returning to the building, becoming firm.
"But this... is my dream."
He stood up and bowed deeply to William.
"I appreciate your kindness. When I really find a job here, I will contact you immediately to purchase that insurance."
After speaking, as if afraid he might change his mind, he quickly walked out of the coffee shop.
Resolutely, he walked towards the skyscraper that glittered in the sunlight but, in William's eyes, was filled with the character for "danger."
William sat still, not moving.
William sat still, not moving.
He picked up his coffee and took a sip.
Americano, as unpalatable as ever.
He suddenly felt that convincing a gambler to quit and convincing a simp to turn back were probably equally difficult.
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