William's heart stirred.
Young, relying on a set of equipment, yet the equipment often malfunctioned—this kid was practically a ready-made performance target!
He showed no emotion, feigning casual conversation, and with a few words, he extracted the information that 'Slingshot Kid' often hung out in the old residential areas and abandoned factories in Queens.
In the evening, William boarded the subway to Queens.
He mused to himself: Tonight's small goal was to find that 'Slingshot Kid' and sign the fourth policy!
The nights in Queens were grittier and more chaotic than in Manhattan.
Based on the information he had gathered, William lingered on the edge of an area composed of old warehouses and semi-abandoned factories.
The lights here were like dead fish eyes, and the alleys twisted and turned.
It was indeed the kind of place preferred by those who liked to 'act as heroes' in the dark.
He found a relatively secluded corner and waited patiently.
The night wind blew, rustling the discarded paper and plastic bags on the ground.
William tucked his hands into his jacket pockets, his gaze vigilantly scanning his surroundings.
After about half an hour, a faint whooshing sound caught his attention.
Immediately after, from a second-floor window of an abandoned warehouse not far away, came a dull thud, the sound of breaking glass, and a few muffled cries of pain.
"Here he comes," William's spirits lifted.
He crept over silently, trying to use the shadows for cover.
He saw a lanky figure wearing a dark green hoodie and flashy orange goggles, scrambling out of the broken second-floor window like a startled cat, his head darting around, looking for an escape route.
He had a device on his back that looked like a quiver, and in his hand was an oddly shaped metal slingshot.
Just as the 'Slingshot Kid' was about to jump down, he stepped on something.
With a cry of 'Ouch,' he lost his balance, and the precious slingshot in his hand immediately flew out like a wild horse, soaring through the air.
It traced an ugly arc before smashing onto the concrete ground outside the warehouse.
"Damn it!"
Slingshot Kid cursed under his breath, fumbling to steady himself, then looked at the slingshot on the ground with some annoyance.
An opportunity!
William no longer hesitated, stepping out from the shadows and walking unhurriedly towards Slingshot Kid.
"Good evening," William's voice was neither loud nor soft, carrying a gentle tone that could put people at ease. "Friend, by the sound of it, have you run into a bit of trouble?"
Slingshot Kid was clearly startled by the sudden appearance of this person, and he spun around abruptly, adopting a defensive stance, his voice raspy with the unique cracking of a teenager's changing voice: "Who are you? Don't come any closer!"
"Relax, kiddo, I'm not here to cause trouble."
William stopped five or six meters away, slowly raising his hands, palms forward.
"My name is William Rodriguez, and I'm a... well, a risk management consultant.
I specialize in providing a little bit of support, however insignificant, to special friends like you who enjoy 'strolling around' at night."
He knew that to deal with a half-grown kid like this, he had to speak in vague terms, making it sound professional and a bit mysterious.
Slingshot Kid's orange goggles scanned William up and down, his eyes full of suspicion: "Risk management consultant? For... people like us?"
He snorted, "Are you selling a night-suit cleaning service?"
His tone carried obvious mockery.
"Those things are too childish,"
William's smile remained unchanged, completely unfazed by the mockery.
"What I offer here is operational equipment reliability assurance.
Tailored specifically for 'professionals' like you who rely on homemade gadgets or modified treasures to make a living."
He paused, then subtly gestured with his chin towards the lonely metal slingshot on the ground, "Take that tool of yours, for instance. I can guarantee it won't fail you when you're on the job."
Slingshot Kid's body stiffened.
Clearly, William's words had hit a sore spot.
"The word on the street is that Queens has a young 'Slingshot Kid' with impressive skills, playing around with those custom-made projectiles in all sorts of flashy ways,"
William said slowly, as if chatting casually.
"But, well, it seems that this tool of yours... occasionally isn't quite up to par, lacking a bit in stability."
"You investigated me?" Slingshot Kid's voice grew cold, tinged with wariness.
"It's not really an investigation. To make a living, one has to do some homework, right?" William spread his hands easily.
"That's just how my line of work is.
Besides, I don't bother with just anyone; I only pick those with real skill and who genuinely need a helping hand—the potential stocks."
He bent down and picked up the metal slingshot from the ground; it was surprisingly heavy in his hand, and its structure was more complex than he had imagined.
William weighed it, then casually tossed the slingshot back to the other party, his tone confident: "It's a common issue, not too big, not too small. Your firing assist mechanism clearly suffers from mechanical fatigue, and the tolerance fit is a bit rough. If you use it too aggressively, it's bound to loosen or jam."
Slingshot Kid caught the slingshot and subconsciously checked the spot William had indicated, his expression subtly changing.
This stranger seemed to know a thing or two.
"So, what do you want? To sell your 'assurance'?" Slingshot Kid still maintained his distance.
"Smart!" William snapped his fingers. "I happen to have a 'Precision Shooter Equipment Assurance Plan' here, and it's a trial version, custom-made for experts like you.
Simply put, if your precious gear breaks down while you're working, and it's not because you deliberately messed it up—for example, if it suddenly jams or runs out of power, making it unusable—we can help you with some repair costs or point you to a reliable technician.
He deliberately paused, lowering his voice as if sharing a huge secret: "The key, the absolute key, is that this trial version costs absolutely nothing!
You can test the Water first, experience our service.
If you like it, you can pay to upgrade later.
If you don't think it's worth it, you can walk away.
No responsibility whatsoever."
"Free?" Slingshot Kid frowned. He seemed to have heard similar scams before.
"Truer than gold!" William thumped his chest, his expression so sincere it could wring out water.
"Just consider this... a technical assessment.
We help you identify any issues with your equipment.
And you, in turn, can gauge whether our service is worthwhile.
It's a win-win, no problem at all!"
Slingshot Kid fell silent.
He had indeed been unlucky tonight; first, the target he was tracking was too cunning, then his slingshot's auto-loading mechanism jammed, causing him to miss the best opportunity, and finally, he fell from the building.
If there really was such a "free assurance"...
It seemed... trying it wouldn't hurt?
His precious slingshot frequently malfunctioned, and repairs were both costly and time-consuming.
"If... I agree, how does it work?" He finally relented a little.
"That's too simple!" William deftly pulled out his phone, swiping a few times on the screen. "Here, take a look at this electronic agreement. If you have no problems, just nod. The terms are written clearly, like plain language, guaranteed to be fair to everyone."
The system interface displayed an electronic contract for the "Precision Shooter Equipment Assurance Plan (Trial Version)," with the free clauses specially bolded.
Slingshot Kid hesitantly took the phone, still muttering to himself, but quickly scanned it.
The terms didn't have any hidden traps; they were all about how equipment was considered broken and how compensation would be handled if it broke.
He glanced at William. This neatly dressed, well-spoken man didn't seem like an ordinary con artist.
At least, he was much more presentable than those street thugs.
"...Alright, I'll try it."
He signed the four crooked characters "Slingshot Kid" on the screen with his finger.
He certainly wouldn't use his real name.
[Ding—Potential client "Slingshot Kid" has agreed to sign the electronic agreement for the "Precision Shooter Equipment Assurance Plan (Trial Version)." Generating policy...]
[Policy generated! Client ID: 004.]
It's done! William's heart bloomed with joy, but his face still held that professional fake smile.
However, that familiar pang of heartache also emerged from the depths of his being—the points were damn low again, only 30 left, it was risky!
"Pleasure working with you, Slingshot Kid," William extended his hand and shook the other's still wary fingers. "I hope this small service of mine can make your 'work' at night go more smoothly in the future.
If your precious gear acts up again, and it fits the situations we discussed, feel free to contact me using this."
He handed over a business card that read, "William Rodriguez, Your Exclusive Risk Consultant."
Slingshot Kid took it, slipped it into his pocket, and nodded, saying nothing more.
He stretched his ankle, which had been slightly twisted from the earlier accident, then with a few agile leaps, his figure vanished into the depths of the alley in the night.
William stood still, watching his new client depart.
The night wind was especially cool, dispelling a trace of sweat from his forehead.
The fourth policy was in hand; although the claim points were reduced again, at least another seed had been sown.
"Slingshot Kid, I hope your precious slingshot will be a little reliable, but not too reliable."
He murmured to himself, a complex smile playing on his lips.
He looked down at his hands.
The moment he touched the slingshot, Mechanical Induction and Novice Energy Tuning were almost instinctively activated.
He indeed sensed some subtle energy flow obstructions and minor mechanical flaws within the slingshot.
If it weren't for selling insurance, he was even confident he could have given the other party a simple adjustment on the spot.
"Professionalism, yes, maintain professionalism."
William thought.
His "insurance business" was just starting, and every step needed careful management.
Now, he just had to wait for this young client to bring him new "surprises."
"The road is still long."
William tightened his jacket and turned to walk towards the subway station.