After settling the two children's accommodation, William finally returned to his apartment and collapsed onto the impossibly soft sofa.
It was a classic 'Old Man Ge' pose.
All he wanted to do now was ponder life.
A PPT seemed to automatically pop up in his mind.
The title was "Career Planning and Self-Cultivation After Becoming a Superhero Nanny."
He silently closed the mental PPT, pulled out paper and pen, and decided to use the most primitive method to organize his thoughts, which were as tangled as a pair of earphone wires.
"To-do list..."
He bit the pen cap and wrote a few words on the paper.
First item: Jack Lockley's special vehicle modification plan.
This matter couldn't be taken lightly.
Moon Knight's third personality, New York's living map, a future "mobile intelligence station."
The car he was given had to be at least the fighter jet of the taxi World, or should it be converted into Bumblebee?
Speaking of which, are there Transformers in this World?
However, this matter couldn't avoid Stark Industries.
Just thinking about dealing with Happy Hogan, that overly diligent and somewhat rigid head bodyguard, gave William a headache.
Second item: Dr. Lizard's relocation matters.
Curtis Connors was in Los Angeles.
It was too far away, like a time bomb placed in someone else's backyard, no one knew when it would explode.
He had to bring him to New York, right under his nose.
That way, if he ever lost control and turned into a big lizard wanting to stroll through Times Square.
He could rush over immediately to sell insurance... no, to conduct crisis intervention.
Third item: The establishment of the provisional team for "Rodriguez Risk Management Company."
William wrote down the word "interns" on the paper, then drew a heavy circle around it.
Tandy Bowen.
A troubled girl who could shoot light-energy daggers.
Tyrone Johnson.
A reclusive boy who could swallow people into the Dark Dimension.
One physical attack, one mental control.
The configuration was quite complete.
It's just that the combined psychological problems of these two employees were higher than all the claims forms he had seen in his previous life stacked together.
The more he thought about it, the more he felt he wasn't opening a company, but an orphanage.
William decided to start with the toughest nut to crack.
He pulled out his phone, expertly found Happy Hogan's number, took a deep breath, and dialed.
The phone rang three times before being answered.
"William?"
Happy's tone was full of caution, as if the person on the other end of the phone wasn't a consultant, but a debt collector.
"Happy, my friend! How have you been lately? The weather in New York is nice, isn't it?"
William used his most enthusiastic salesman's tone.
"Save it, Rodriguez."
Happy wasn't buying it.
"You'd better have a good reason. I just bailed you out of the New York Police Department, don't tell me you're back in again?"
"That's called immersive on-site risk assessment!"
William corrected him without batting an eye.
"I'm a professional. But never mind that, I'm looking for you because I need Stark Industries' technical support."
There was a few seconds of silence on the other end of the phone.
"For what?"
"I need to modify a car."
William chose his words carefully.
"A taxi."
"Huh?"
Happy's volume increased significantly.
"Say that again? A taxi? Seriously? What do you want to do? Install an anti-gravity engine to pick up passengers? Stark Industries isn't responsible for helping you realize your crazy ride-sharing startup dreams!"
"Hear me out, Happy, this is a serious investment project."
William's tone became earnest.
"I've named it the 'Eye of the City Project.' We need a low-key, discreet, mobile intelligence gathering terminal that can penetrate the city's capillaries. And a taxi is the perfect disguise."
"Mobile intelligence gathering terminal?"
Happy was clearly impressed by the sophisticated term.
"Exactly. We need to upgrade its engine to ensure power output in extreme conditions. Replace the bulletproof tires and bulletproof glass; this is the most basic passive defense."
"Most importantly, we need to install an independent, encrypted communication system connected to our database."
William spoke more and more smoothly.
As if he was truly planning some extraordinary grand blueprint.
"Turn it into a true mobile command center, our own 'Ghost'."
Happy was silent again, seemingly digesting the words.
"Who is this 'Ghost' for?"
"A Knight of the Moon."
William answered mysteriously.
"Alright..."
Happy finally relented, his tone full of helplessness.
What else could he do if he didn't relent?
This guy would definitely go to Pepper, or even directly to his boss.
And then Stark Industries' decision-maker would still assign this task to him.
"Send me your requirements list. I'll find someone to handle it. But listen, even though Tony is rich, we're not a charity."
"Of course, pleasure working with you!"
Hanging up the phone, William threw it onto the sofa.
He had obtained "project approval."
In fact, William had considered asking Tony for help.
But this wasn't a big deal after all.
That guy was obsessed with building his suits every day, even his dates with Pepper had become fewer.
There was no need to bother him with this small matter.
Rubbing his sore temples, he struggled to sit up from the sofa and opened his laptop.
On the blank email interface, the cursor blinked tirelessly.
Recipient: Happy Hogan.
Subject: Phase One Modification Plan for the "Eye of the City" Mobile Intelligence Terminal.
William took a deep breath, his fingers hovering over the keyboard.
He was concocting a crazy speech that would make any serious automotive engineer resign on the spot.
He began to type.
Project Overview:
This project aims to transform a regular taxi into a multi-functional tactical vehicle suitable for high-intensity urban environments, capable of intelligence gathering, target tracking, rapid response, and personnel evacuation... Power system upgrade requirements: Must be replaced with Stark Industries' experimental silent hybrid engine, requiring 0 to 100 km/h acceleration in less than 4 seconds, and capable of a short-term "burst mode" to instantly provide torque beyond conventional vehicles.
William deleted and revised, writing dozens of modification items.
After finishing.
He read through it once, nodded with satisfaction, and clicked send without hesitation.
Closing the email, he opened a search engine.
William typed in keywords:
"New York, abandoned biological laboratory, for sale or lease, high security level."
The results that appeared on the screen were few, and the prices were enough to deter ordinary people.
Curtis Connors was not an ordinary scientist.
What he needed wasn't a bright and clean office, but a fortress where he could lock himself away and safely "go crazy."
A place where he could turn into a lizard without neighbors complaining.
He flipped through a few pages.
Finally, his gaze settled on an abandoned pharmaceutical factory in Bronx, near the East River.
The place was large enough, and remote enough.
Its predecessor was a biochemical protection facility decommissioned by the Military, with an absurdly high security level.
Perfect.
William noted the number and dialed.
"Hi, Jarvis, good evening! I need you to look up a place for me, North Brother Island in Bronx, that abandoned Pendragon Pharmaceutical Factory... Yes? I want all its information, including property rights and recent quotes."
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