William comfortably nestled in the office sofa, his fingertips gliding across the tablet.
On the screen, the headlines of major news websites were completely dominated by Tony Stark and his disastrous expo.
"Stark Industries Weapons Exhibition Becomes a Battlefield, Who Will Guarantee the Safety of New York City Citizens?"
"Hammer Industries Drones Go Rogue, Iron Man Plunges into Another Crisis of Trust!"
"Congressional Hearings May Reopen, Who Should Regulate Superheroes?"
In a series of high-definition photos, the visible holes in the Iron Man armor were clear, with a ravaged park and panicked crowds in the background.
William watched with great interest, a smile unconsciously curving his lips.
That unlucky guy, Tony, was probably being bombarded by media and congressional calls right now, completely overwhelmed.
Just as he was gloating, an electronic synthetic voice with a hint of a British accent suddenly sounded in the office.
"Sir, Mr. Morris Bench is waiting at the entrance downstairs. Shall I authorize him to enter?"
It was Jarvis.
William raised an eyebrow and put down his coffee cup.
"Let him come up."
He said to the empty air, then pressed the intercom on his desk.
Not long after, the heavy solid wood door of the office was knocked, and Morris Bench walked in.
William stood up from the sofa, a gentle smile on his face, and pointed to the opposite sofa.
"Brother Morris, have a seat."
Morris didn't move. He just stood there, staring intently at William, as if trying to see through the young man with his gaze.
"You're right, I'm a coward."
William didn't reply, just watched him quietly, waiting for him to continue.
"My wife died early, and I raised two children alone. They got married, moved to Florida, and have their own lives."
"I visited my grandson once, just once."
Finally, a trace of a smile appeared in the old man's voice, a smile that sounded worse than crying.
"The little guy liked me a lot; he liked listening to my stories about the sea. He reached out his hands for me to hug him, but I didn't dare."
He paused, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down.
"I was scared… I was scared that if I got too happy, too excited, I'd turn into a puddle of stinking, unwanted Water right in front of him."
"Since then, I've never been back. My daughter-in-law said I smelled of fish, but I knew they were afraid of me."
His cloudy eyes stared straight at William.
"You bastard, you win."
Morris said, enunciating each word, each one seemingly squeezed through his teeth, like he was pronouncing his own death sentence.
"I'll work for you. But that damned insurance, the money, must be deducted from my salary! Don't even think about making me pay to work!"
This was his last and only stubbornness as an old leek.
"Welcome aboard."
Morris picked up his work canteen, unscrewed the cap, and took a sip, looking at William with a complex expression:
"Tell me, besides driving your boat, what else do you need me to do? What exactly is this island of yours for, anyway? Besides those two kids, no one's left the island these past few days."
"You'll find out later." William smiled, not elaborating, "However, your first task on the job might not have much to do with driving a boat."
Morris's hand, holding the canteen, froze in mid-air, a sudden premonition of dread welling up in his heart.
William didn't say much, just walked to the open space in the center of the office and gently snapped his fingers.
Buzz—
A soft blue light projected from the ceiling, creating a huge, three-dimensional holographic image in the air.
It was a precise model of North Brother Island and Manhattan across the East River, with even the ripples of the East River's flowing Water clearly visible.
Morris's mouth slightly agape, he forgot to put down the canteen in his hand.
He had never seen such a sight in his entire life.
William walked to the holographic image and gently swiped his finger in the air.
The image instantly changed; the ground and river Water became transparent, revealing a complex geological structure map beneath.
"I need a path," William said, pointing to the riverbed connecting the island and Manhattan in the image, "a secret passage from here, directly to the opposite bank."
Morris's mind buzzed, and he subconsciously retorted: "Dig a tunnel? From the riverbed? Do you know how difficult that is? Water pressure, rock layers… This is harder than building a subway! Who do you think you are? Tony Stark?"
"No, I'm not Tony Stark."
William shook his head, his expression becoming more serious than ever before.
"And we don't need to go through all that trouble."
He slid his finger in the air again, and the image magnified further, a thin red line winding through the geological map.
"Your ability isn't just to turn yourself into Water."
"You don't need drills, you don't need explosives. Water is your most powerful tool."
"Use high-pressure Water currents, like an indestructible surgical knife, to cut through the silt and sand."
Morris's face was filled with shock and disbelief.
He had never imagined that the "curse" that made him fear and alienated him from his relatives would, in this young man's mouth, become an indestructible super tool.
He looked at the three-dimensional image, then at William's face, which was full of "of course" expressions, feeling like a country bumpkin who had just come to the city.
"You… you want me to… drill holes with my body?" Morris's voice trembled slightly; this sounded even less reliable than turning into a puddle of Water.
"Not with your body, but with your ability."
William corrected him.
"You merge with Water; you are Water, and Water is you. You can control the form, pressure, and speed of the Water flow. Imagine a high-pressure Water jet, sharper than a diamond drill bit, working silently beneath the riverbed. Besides you and me, who would know?"
William's description was highly vivid; Morris could even imagine such a scene.
He fell silent, his mind in turmoil.
For decades, he had been suppressing, avoiding, fearing that this ability would go out of control.
But now, someone was telling him not only not to suppress it but to unleash it to its fullest potential.
This feeling was like an old monk who had observed strict precepts all his life suddenly being told he could eat meat, drink wine, and marry a wife.
Absurd, yet damnably tempting.
"This… is too dangerous." Morris was still making his last struggle.
"Dangerous?"
William smiled.
"You worrying every day, alone at the dock, that you might turn into a puddle of Water at any moment and be dried up by the Sun, that's what's dangerous."
"Now, I'm giving you an opportunity to turn that danger into strength, into value. You can explore the boundaries of your ability in an absolutely safe, absolutely confidential environment, to truly control it, rather than being controlled by it."
He paused, then added the most crucial blow: "And, I'm paying you a salary."
Morris was completely speechless.
He looked at William; this young man was like the most cunning hunter, precisely finding all his weaknesses, then setting a trap—or rather, an opportunity—that he couldn't refuse.
"I'll do it," the old man squeezed out these two words through gritted teeth, then added, "But, I need more money. This job isn't in the scope of 'driving a boat'."
"Of course."
William had long anticipated this outcome.
He turned back to his desk, picked up a tablet, tapped on it a few times, then handed it to Morris.
On the screen, the title "Rodriguez Risk Management Co., Ltd. Employment Contract and Special Ability Operations Supplemental Agreement" was clear and prominent. Below it were dense clauses and an electronic signature field.
"Sign the contract first."
"Also, I've already included the 'Liquid Form Integrity and Reconstruction Guarantee Insurance' in your contract. As a new employee onboarding benefit, I'll give you a 20% discount on the first year's premium, deducted directly from your project bonus. How does that sound?"
Morris looked at the electronic contract on the tablet, thicker than a brick, then at William's sincere smile, which showed no hint of flaw, and felt his blood pressure rising again.
He felt like he wasn't here to work, but to sign a deed of sale.
"You goddamn…"
Morris was about to curse, but swallowed the words back.
He picked up the tablet, his rough fingers sliding across the smooth screen for a long time, and finally, with an almost tragic posture, he awkwardly signed his name in the signature field.
William satisfiedly took back the tablet, looking at the brand new signature on it, his smile growing even brighter.
"Welcome aboard, Supervisor Morris." He extended his hand, "Our company's infrastructure projects will all depend on you."
-------------------------------
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