The warmth of the burger still churned in their stomachs, but the atmosphere in the corner of the bar was as if frozen by that iced cola, chilling them to the bone.
Tandy Bowen's fingers were only a few centimeters from the "Teenage Hero Support Program" agreement, but those few centimeters were like a bottomless canyon, separating the Hell's Kitchen she knew from a promise with an unclear future.
Her eyes were filled with sharp scrutiny.
It was as if she was X-raying every pore of William, trying to find the trap behind his smile.
"Why?" she finally asked, her voice hard, like a stone pried from the street, "People like you... dressed in suits, with 'expensive' written all over you, why would you come to us? We're just... trouble."
"Good question."
William didn't avoid her gaze; instead, he nodded approvingly, his demeanor as if praising a promising newcomer for asking a crucial question.
"Because your 'trouble' has value."
He leaned back on the sofa, his arms spread across the backrest.
His posture was as relaxed as a department head interviewing new employees.
"What is your power? Is it a weapon? Is it a talent? Neither."
William held up a finger.
"It is debt. It is a huge debt you carry, ready to explode at any moment, shattering yourselves and everything around you."
"You pay interest every day—with your fear, your displacement, your hunger."
His words carried no sympathy; they were merely stating a cold risk assessment report.
"And I,"
William pointed to himself.
"I am an expert in distressed asset management. I see the enormous 'asset' potential hidden behind your 'debt.' I am willing to invest in acquiring your debt and transforming it into profit."
He paused, giving these two children, armed with street smarts but never exposed to such stark business logic, some time to digest.
"I provide lodging to give my 'investments' a safe warehouse. I provide food to ensure the 'assets' can operate normally. I provide training to increase the 'assets'' value, so they can bring me returns in the future."
"As for the returns,"
William added vaguely.
"I have my own plans."
This stark, unmasked declaration of a transaction actually loosened the wariness in Tandy's eyes a bit.
Compared to hypocritical kindness, this kind of clearly priced exchange of interests felt more real and understandable to someone like her, who had struggled to survive on the streets.
She fell silent.
Beside her, Tyrone, who had been huddled in the darkness, stirred slightly at this moment.
He lifted his eyes from the shadow of his hoodie.
Those eyes didn't hold Tandy's sharpness, only a bottomless fear and a hint of... longing.
A longing for a "warehouse" and "normal operation."
Tandy noticed his change.
She took a deep breath, as if making a decision.
She no longer looked at William, but picked up the pen on the table.
The pen tip hovered over the paper, and she asked one last question:
"What if... what if we mess up? What if our 'debt'... explodes?"
"That's also a risk I need to manage."
William's smile exuded an undeniable confidence.
"My job is to ensure it doesn't explode. Even if it does, I'll be responsible for the compensation."
Tandy said nothing more.
She signed her name: Tandy Bowen.
Then, she pushed the agreement and the pen towards Tyrone.
Tyrone's hand was trembling.
The darkness that enveloped him seemed to fluctuate uneasily with his emotions.
He picked up the pen.
The pen tip left an indecisive ink mark on the paper.
Finally, he wrote his name: Tyrone Johnson.
For the two children,
signing or not signing actually carried no burden.
At worst, if the man didn't fulfill his promises, they would simply run away.
Did he really think the two of them were soft persimmons to be manipulated?
But unfortunately, as long as this contract was signed, it was a huge guarantee for William.
[Ding!]
[New client successfully signed!]
[Clients: Tandy Bowen, Tyrone Johnson have signed the binding insurance product: "Teenage Vigilante Accidental Liability Insurance (Support Edition)"]
A satisfied smile curved William's lips.
Two high-risk, high-return potential stocks were successfully established.
He stood up and put the agreement into his briefcase, his movements fluid.
"Alright, my new employees. Welcome aboard. Now, follow me to your employee dormitory."
...The so-called "employee dormitory" was not in any upscale apartment building in Manhattan.
William led them to an old industrial area in Harlem.
The air was filled with the smell of rust and engine oil.
Surrounding them were abandoned factories and graffiti-covered walls.
Tandy's expression turned sour again.
"This is your 'safe warehouse'?"
"Safe doesn't equal comfortable."
William led them into an unremarkable old red-brick building.
They climbed the creaking stairs to a metal door on the third floor.
He took out a key and opened the door.
It was a small Loft apartment.
This was considered William's investment.
After he got rich, he did buy several potentially valuable properties, or rather, safe houses for himself.
It wasn't exactly tidy, but it wasn't messy either.
A sofa, a table, a small open kitchen, and stairs leading to a second-floor loft.
The furniture was all the simplest, cheapest style.
The only thing that looked somewhat valuable was a high-spec computer by the window, its screen still flashing with complex data streams.
That was for Jarvis.
"Upstairs are the bedrooms; there are two rooms."
William threw the keys on the table.
"There's frozen pizza and milk in the fridge; sort out dinner yourselves. The bathroom has hot water. There's no curfew, but you're not allowed out after ten at night."
He pointed to a router on the wall.
"The password is RiskManagement888, capitalized. Don't use it to watch any paid channels; my internet bill is very expensive."
Tandy and Tyrone stood at the doorway, looking at this strange and simple "home," at a loss for a moment.
There was no glamour of Wall Street here.
No sin of Hell's Kitchen.
Only a tranquility of being forgotten by the World.
"Remember."
William walked to the window.
"From today onwards, you are no longer street urchins or street thieves. You are probationary Risk Specialists for Rodriguez Risk Management Company."
"Your job is to learn to control risk. First, start by controlling yourselves."
-------------------------------
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