[Beep—Potential client detected: Chain Vigilante.]
[Target's Condition: Suspected left wrist ligament strain, accompanied by minor muscle tear.]
[Used weapon (industrial-grade chain): There are at least seven metal fatigue points, and two connecting links have microcracks.]
[Overall risk assessment: Mild.]
[System Recommendation 1: Promote the "Street Volunteer Minor Injury Mutual Aid Insurance (Trial Version)" and include a free sample of the bruise ointment.]
[System Recommendation Option 2: Promote the "Weapon and Equipment Wear and Tear Insurance (Basic)" which provides one free maintenance or designated material reinforcement service.]
A series of system prompts ignited the performance indicators in William's mind like a fire, making his blood boil and every pore screaming "deal"!
The slight tension caused by the environment and the other party's momentum was instantly replaced by a professional instinct called "performance radar activation".
My wrist is injured and the chain is about to break!
This customer portrait is textbook-level accurate.
William's gaze once again turned to the muscular figure in the warehouse. His eyes were like a wolf that had been hungry for three days and finally saw a fat sheep, almost drooling.
He suppressed the urge to immediately take out the "insurance policy" and get the other party to sign it. He took a deep breath of the cold night air, trying to make himself appear more professional and not like a con man trying to force sales.
If I just rush in and say, "Handsome boy, do you want to buy insurance? You're about to get hurt!" I'm afraid I'll be strangled to death with a chain on the spot.
His mind raced, pondering how to safely and efficiently deliver this "gift" to the customer, while also making them happily pay for it...
Oh no, it's about willingly accepting the "free trial" strategy.
Brother Chain was panting heavily at the moment. It was obvious that the high-intensity "exercise" just now had consumed a lot of his physical strength.
He pulled off a corner of his mask, revealing his hard, sweat-beaded chin.
He casually threw the heavy iron chain stained with sandbag debris on the ground, making a dull clang and stirring up a cloud of dust.
He shook his left hand irritably, his brows furrowed. It was obvious that the wrist injury troubled him a lot and even affected the training results.
William keenly caught this detail, and the corners of his mouth rose slightly, almost imperceptibly.
Perfect!
He cleared his throat and tried to straighten the old coat he had picked up, trying to create an atmosphere of "I may be dressed simply but I am professional."
Even though he doesn't even have a decent briefcase now, let alone a business card with "XX Insurance Company Gold Consultant" printed on it.
He decided to take the most direct and possibly the most leg-breaking approach - taking the initiative to attack.
"Ahem!"
A slight cough sounded like thunder in the silent abandoned warehouse area.
Inside the warehouse, the tall and burly figure suddenly froze, like a cat whose tail was stepped on, and all the muscles in his body tensed instantly.
"who?!"
A low, hoarse, yet explosively powerful shout came from the warehouse, carrying a strong sense of vigilance and displeasure at being disturbed, like the roar of a wounded beast.
William felt his scalp tingling, and a cold and stimulating adrenaline rushed to his forehead instantly.
He gritted his teeth and slowly walked out from the shadow of the broken window. He raised his hands very tactfully, palms facing outward, and made an internationally recognized gesture of "I have no weapons, I am a good citizen."
"Don't be nervous, friend."
William tried hard to force out the friendly smile he had practiced many times and claimed to have a 'million-dollar performance', although he knew that in this damn place, with his current appearance, this smile was more like some kind of malicious omen.
"I meant no harm. I was just passing by and heard some noise here. I was just curious, you know, human curiosity."
With the help of a faint moonlight shining through the hole in the roof, William finally saw the other person's "face" clearly.
The dark tight combat suit perfectly outlines his bulging muscles that are comparable to those of a bodybuilder.
He wore a simple but sufficient tactical mask on his face, revealing only a pair of eyes that flashed sharp cold light in the darkness. Like a hawk in the night, he was staring straight at William, full of scrutiny, suspicion and undisguised warnings.
Those eyes reminded William of the most difficult department managers in the company before he traveled through time.
"Passing by?" Brother Chain's voice was filled with strong suspicion, and every word seemed to be squeezed out from between his teeth.
His left hand, which was wrapped in thick bandages, curled up unconsciously, as if he was ready to pick up the iron chain on the ground that looked like it could crush a person's bones.
William felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, not because of the cold, but because the murderous aura was like countless tiny ice needles, pricking his skin and making it numb. The already low temperature in the warehouse seemed to have been taken away a little bit, and even his breath smelled of ice chips.
William felt his back begin to sweat, and his shirt was sticky and uncomfortable to his body.
He forced himself to remain calm, keeping the smile on his face unchanged, even a little more "sincere".
"Yes, just passing through," he repeated, as casually as possible. "My name is William Rodriguez, and I'm a... risk consultant."
He suddenly had an idea and gave himself a title that sounded high-end, classy and classy.
You can't just say, "I'm an insurance salesman. I see that your forehead is black, so you will have a bloody disaster in the near future. Buy an accident insurance to keep safe." If you do that, he will probably have to experience the "accident insurance" claims process the next second, but the insured person will be himself.
"Risk consultant?" Brother Chain frowned even deeper under his mask. Obviously, this word was beyond his daily cognition.
His hawk-like eyes scanned William back and forth, as if he was evaluating whether this guy who suddenly appeared was a psychopath or had some ulterior motive.
Seeing the doubt in the other person's eyes, William simply gave up the fancy packaging and changed his tone, saying with a bit of frankness: "Well, to put it simply, I work in insurance."
He knew very well that beating around the bush when dealing with these people who lived on the edge of a knife was just asking for trouble. It would be better to be straightforward to avoid the other party becoming suspicious and treating him as a troublemaker and "dealing with" him directly.
It is better to be straightforward and impress the other party with your professionalism and sincerity (mainly free of charge).
Sure enough, a hint of imperceptible contempt flashed across Brother Chain's eyes, followed by deeper vigilance.
"Selling insurance in this godforsaken place? Boy, you've got the wrong person and the wrong time."
His tone became impatient, as if he was ready to throw this uninvited guest out like garbage.
"No, no, no, I think I definitely didn't find the wrong person, sir." William waved his hands quickly and spoke very quickly, fearing that the other party would attack in the next second.
"Please allow me to take a few minutes of your precious time. I noticed that your wrist seems to be a little uncomfortable?"
He pointed precisely at the other person's left hand, which was wrapped in bandages and had been noticeably clumsy in its movements.
Brother Chain's body visibly tensed up, and his eyes instantly became sharper, like a beast whose reverse scale had been touched.
"What does this have to do with you?" His voice was as cold as ice.
"Of course it does matter, and it matters a lot!"
William took half a step forward—any more, he feared the other party would misunderstand—and at the same time tried to straighten his back, which even the old coat he had picked up could not support. He tried to imagine the high-end smell of coffee and printing ink in a top-notch office building from the dusty smell of the dilapidated warehouse, so that his "gold medal consultant" speech would not sound so much like a dying testament.
"For people like you... um, engaging in high-intensity, high-risk activities, physical wear and tear, such as muscle strains and ligament sprains, as well as wear and tear on equipment, like this chain... uh, this unique tool, are all inevitable and common problems."
He almost said the word "murder weapon" but changed it to "unique tool" in time.
"I have a product, or service, that's perfect for your situation."