The Texas Information & Communications Company (the parent company of the state TV station) was divided into two main branches based on media format: the Television Division and the Newspaper Division.
Hierarchy-wise, neither division was technically superior to the other.
However, anyone with basic pattern recognition skills could see the trend: with the rapid advancement of technology and the ubiquity of television sets, the TV Division was steadily eclipsing the Newspaper Division in importance.
As for reporter Jack, although he single-handedly initiated "Project Star Maker," his position as a mere team leader didn't grant him much clout within the Newspaper Division's headquarters.
When he arrived at the station with Mike and his entourage, he was intercepted by a sweet-looking secretary before they could even reach the manager's office.
"Mike, based on my internal intel, the company's bottom line is 2.5 percent... Good luck," Jack whispered, leaking some insider information to Mike before stepping aside.
Mike received the intel without a change in expression. He gave Jack a meaningful glance, then quietly followed the secretary toward the Newspaper Division Manager's office.
Along the way, Mike's group drew curious stares from the station employees.
After all, the composition of their group—an elderly woman, a handsome teenager, and several children—was undeniably anomalous.
But the primary variable attracting attention was Mike himself. He was, objectively, extremely handsome.
Finally, after navigating several corridors, the secretary led them to the manager's office.
"Mr. Mike, the manager is waiting for you inside. As for your friends, I can arrange for them to wait in the lounge," the secretary said politely at the door.
"Apologies, but this is my legal guardian, and the others are my family. For a contract negotiation of this magnitude, I require their presence," Mike stated firmly, gesturing to Meemaw and the others.
"Um... very well."
Looking at Mike's sincere expression (and handsome face), the secretary relented. "Please follow me."
The Newspaper Division Manager was a balding, middle-aged man named James. His protruding beer belly gave him an air of indulgence, but his small, shrewd eyes suggested he was a difficult man to deal with.
Seeing the secretary lead a large group into his office, a flicker of surprise crossed James's eyes, but he quickly masked it with calm indifference.
"Manager James, this is Mr. Mike, whom you were expecting. The others are his family accompanying him," the secretary explained.
Sitting behind his large desk, Manager James scanned the group. When his gaze landed on Mike's face, he frowned slightly.
Then, he turned to the secretary. "Lisa, you're dismissed. Go brew me a cup of Kopi Luwak. Remember, extra sugar..."
After dismissing the secretary, he finally put on a smile and gestured. "Mr. Mike, and family, please, have a seat."
There were two sofas for guests on either side of the room.
However, judging by how James remained firmly planted behind his desk, he clearly had no intention of engaging in close-proximity conversation.
"Oh, look at my memory. I forgot to ask what you'd like to drink."
Once Mike and the others were seated, James asked with feigned apology, "How about some Kopi Luwak? It's a high-end coffee that the average person rarely gets to taste..."
"Thank you, but I am not thirsty," Mike declined promptly, sensing the condescension in the manager's tone.
From the moment they entered, this Manager James had been radiating hostility.
Just now, he waited until the secretary had already left to make the coffee before "asking" what they wanted.
This kind of hypocritical courtesy was lower than a belated effort.
"What is Kopi Luwak? Is it palatable?" Georgie, missing the malice in the air, asked curiously in a whisper.
"Kopi Luwak, also known as civet coffee, is the product of coffee cherries eaten by the Asian palm civet, partially digested, and then defecated as beans..."
Before Manager James could offer his explanation, Paige beat him to it. She then added a helpful tip: "To truly appreciate the flavor profile of cat-poop coffee, one should minimize the addition of sugar and milk."
"Cat poop... original flavor..." Upon learning the origin of the raw materials, Georgie's face contorted in horror. His rejection of the beverage was written all over his face.
Just then, the secretary returned with a steaming cup of coffee.
"Manager, here is your coffee. Do you require anything else?" she asked attentively as she placed the cup in front of him.
"That will be all. Get out," James replied, his face darkening.
After hearing the little girl's graphic explanation, the Kopi Luwak that usually smelled rich and aromatic now seemed utterly repulsive to him.
He subtly pushed the "cat poop coffee" aside...
Taking a breath to reset, Manager James got down to business. "Mr. Mike, regarding the poster collaboration, you can leave everything to us. We will handle the agency fully. You won't have to worry about a single operational detail... You just need to wait until the day your face is plastered all over Texas, and you become a household name..."
True to his role as a manager, James spent the next few minutes analyzing the logistics of poster distribution. While speaking, he subtly emphasized the difficulty of the task and the immense power of the newspaper, all while painting a grand picture of future fame for Mike.
Looking at Mike's youthful face and his "affordable" clothing, Manager James felt a surge of inexplicable confidence.
Yes, from the moment Mike walked in, James had been using a superiority complex to pressure him, hoping to secure favorable terms in the upcoming negotiation.
It was a standard psychological tactic in business negotiations.
However, this time, James's strategy failed to compute.
As soon as he finished his grand speech, Mike spoke calmly, cutting straight to the core issue. "So, you have yet to state the percentage of my profit share for this collaboration. Additionally, regarding the previous issue where my image was used on the front page—what is the compensation fee you intend to pay for my image rights?"
Hearing Mike's incisive questions, Manager James realized this kid was going to be difficult.
He pondered for a moment, then acted as if he were being generous. "How about half a percent? You don't have to do anything—just take a few photos, and you get 0.5% of the net profit from the poster sales."
"Of course, don't think half a percent is small... Let me do the math for you. With our distribution capacity, we can sell at least 100,000 posters. Even if we only make one dollar per poster, you'd walk away with no less than $500."
"Five hundred dollars for doing absolutely nothing. You're getting a great deal."
Having addressed the poster split, Manager James shifted his tone to something more serious. "As for the newspaper image fee... regrettably, we have never had such an expenditure line item. If we did, we'd probably have to pay Frank from the Houston team first."
Starting sternly and ending with a small joke, James reverted to his practiced fake smile.
Praise and suppress—another negotiation technique.
The "Frank" James mentioned was the quarterback for the Houston football team, last year's league champions.
Frank was a massive, aggressive player with solid technical skills—a bona fide "star player" of a championship team.
Since the spring invitational began, apart from the one week Mike snatched the color front page, nearly every other headline had been dominated by this champion "star player."
Frank was viewed by many Texans as the "Chosen One," the future star of the state.
Of course, despite his many accolades, he had one flaw: he wasn't exactly easy on the eyes.
Consequently, newspapers featuring James's photos as a selling point rarely saw any repurchase activity from consumers.