"It's a pleasure to work with you, Mr. Grant."
These four words rolled around on William's tongue, finally transforming into a professional smile.
He didn't immediately pocket the black-gold card, which symbolized unlimited purchasing power; instead, he pushed it back to the center of the coffee table.
This action surprised Steven a little.
"Our work has only just begun."
William's fingers danced rapidly across the smooth surface of the tablet. On the screen, below the title "'Moon Knight' Project Overall Image Strategy (Draft)," a dense logical framework quickly unfolded.
"First, is the redefinition and division of 'assets'."
William's speaking pace wasn't fast, but each word was like a precisely calculated weight, landing heavily on Steven's heart.
"In my business model, Moon Knight is not a person, but a holding group."
"Mr. Steven Grant, you are the current CEO of this group, or rather… the Chairman of the Board. Your demand is to maintain the group's stock price—which is its social prestige—stable."
"And Marc Spector, as well as other personalities you may not have fully grasped yet, they are subsidiaries under the group, responsible for executing different 'businesses'."
"Some are responsible for armed liquidation, some for intelligence gathering. Is that right?"
Steven nodded blankly.
He had never thought about his chaotic inner self from this perspective.
This analogy was absurd yet precise, leaving him unable to refute it for a moment.
"My first job is to write a detailed 'Risk Assessment and Management White Paper' for your unique 'group'."
William brought up a blank chart on the tablet.
"We need to conduct independent evaluations for each 'subsidiary'." His finger tapped the screen, and a title appeared: "Subsidiary A: Marc Spector."
"Business scope: violent sanctions, supernatural threat response. Primary risks: negative news due to excessive behavior, lawsuits, and large-scale property damage. Opportunities: strong potential for positive image building, a 'Dark Knight'-style Guardian label."
He tapped again, and another title appeared in parallel: "Subsidiary B: Stephen Grant."
"Business scope: daily life, knowledge reserves, public relations facade. Primary risks: Zero combat effectiveness, becoming a fatal weakness when encountering danger. Opportunities: a perfect goodwill ambassador, capable of maximally offsetting the negative perceptions brought by other 'subsidiaries'."
"As for the others…"
William paused, looking up at Steven.
"Potentially existing, more aggressive, and less controllable 'subsidiaries,' I temporarily categorize them as 'high-risk dormant assets.' We need to establish a mechanism to monitor and predict their 'awakening'."
Steven's breathing became a little rapid.
What William described was his deepest fear.
That violent Shadow lurking deeper, which he himself was unwilling to confront.
"How do we monitor it?"
He asked, a barely perceptible tremor in his voice.
"Information."
William was decisive.
"I need real-time information. To that end, I will customize a 'Personality Switch Early Warning System' for you."
From his briefcase, he took out a brand-new, unopened phone—simple in design, with no unnecessary functions.
"I call it the 'Scepter of Succession'."
William pushed the phone in front of Steven.
"It's specially encrypted and has only one function: to send me pre-set signals. When you feel Mark is about to take over, press button 1. When you feel you are about to regain consciousness, press button 2."
"If… you anticipate signs of that 'high-risk asset' awakening, long-press the red button."
"What's the use of this?"
"It's very useful."
A confident, almost manipulative, expression appeared on William's face.
"When I receive signal 1, I will immediately activate the 'God of War' public relations contingency plan, mobilize resources, guide all eyewitness accounts towards the 'heroic, decisive' direction, and initiate post-incident compensation procedures to handle potential property damage."
"Upon receiving signal 2, I will switch to 'Scholar' mode, preparing to handle any social situations that require your gentle image. As for the red alert…"
William's expression became serious.
"I will initiate the highest level of crisis intervention, utilize all resources to minimize potential damage, and even… if necessary, provide you with an alternative solution for 'physical risk termination'."
Steven looked at the small phone.
It was as if he wasn't seeing a communication tool, but an anchor capable of steadying a ship in a stormy sea.
"Regarding funds."
William's gaze returned to the black-gold card.
"I will use it to establish a dedicated trust fund, with the account fully transparent to you. My service fee will be drawn monthly from the fund as a project consultant fee."
"All expenses for public relations, compensation, and equipment procurement, converted to 50% of the cost, will be borne by the fund, with a detailed bill for each transaction."
He paused, then added.
"Of course, the first batch of startup funds will be used to pay for the repairs from last night, which include at least three cars, a newsstand, and half a street's worth of streetlights."
"This is this morning's news report; if anything is missing, I hope you can supplement it."
Steven was completely speechless.
Chaos, fear, loss of control… these things that had tormented him for so long were now, in front of this man who called himself an insurance salesman, categorized, labeled, and filed into corresponding folders one by one.
For the first time, he felt that his chaotic mental World seemed to have a glimmer of hope for being organized.
"Besides money, what do I… have to give?"
Steven finally asked the crucial question.
"Authorization."
William's answer was simple and clear.
"I need you, and 'everyone' within you, to Grant me the highest authority to handle all matters related to your external image. I need your trust, especially when you can't even trust yourselves."
He leaned forward, his voice lowered but full of power.
"Mr. Grant, I'm not selling insurance; I'm selling 'certainty.' In this World full of uncertainty, I offer the most certain external environment for your uncertain life. This is my product."
After a long silence, Steven slowly reached out and picked up the phone called the "Scepter of Succession."
His fingertips caressed the cold casing for a moment, then he looked up, and a glimmer of light finally appeared in his gentle eyes.
"The plan… I accept it."
William stood up and extended his hand to Steven.
"Then, Director Grant, I look forward to our continued cooperation."
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