Next, Manager James called his secretary, Lisa, into the office to print out a revised contract based on the agreed-upon terms.
"Alright, Mr. Mike, you may proceed to the studio for your poster photoshoot. A professional team is waiting..." Once the contract was signed, James was eager to see them out.
Every time he looked at Mike's face now, he could practically see dollar bills flying out of his own pocket.
Furthermore, Secretary Lisa's constant sneaking glances at Mike were making the slightly greasy manager feel a distinct tightness in his chest.
"Goodbye, Manager James." Having achieved his objective, Mike didn't care about James's petty grievances.
He waved goodbye with a smile and led his entourage—Meemaw and the rest of the support squad—out of the manager's office.
"Phew..."
Once Mike disappeared from view, Manager James collapsed into his leather chair as if he had just run a marathon. He let out a long, heavy sigh.
His face was pale, and a sheen of sweat covered his forehead. He looked more exhausted than if he had just jogged three miles.
It had to be said: high-stakes negotiation was a physically demanding activity.
Feeling parched, he grabbed the coffee cup from his desk to hydrate.
But as the cup reached his lips, James suddenly remembered.
High class? Kopi Luwak? ... To hell with it!
Who in their right mind drinks cat poop?
"Lisa! Go brew me another cup of coffee. Just the regular kind..." James shoved the Kopi Luwak aside with a disgusted expression and barked an order at his secretary.
"Are you certain you want the regular coffee?" Lisa, who was organizing files, looked at him in surprise to confirm.
After all, Manager James, ever conscious of his status, historically only consumed high-end beans.
"Positive. The sludge from the employee breakroom will suffice." James's pale face started to darken again.
"Understood. I'm on it." Seeing her boss's mood sour, Lisa pursed her lips and hurried out of the office.
---
After leaving the office, Mike reunited with his old friend, reporter Jack.
Clearly, the logistical responsibility for the poster photoshoot had been handed back to him.
It was already past lunchtime. Jack checked the mechanical watch on his wrist and extended an invitation. "Care to try our employee cafeteria? The flavor profile is average, but the price point is unbeatable."
It was easy to deduce that due to work demands, Jack had also missed his lunch window.
"We can sample the corporate cuisine another time. Today, lunch is on me." With a significant influx of revenue incoming, Mike generously took charge of the bill.
After all, Meemaw and the others had spent half the day supporting him; they deserved a reward.
Additionally, Jack had provided valuable insider intel earlier. Reciprocity was a social norm Mike intended to uphold.
"That works perfectly. I know a budget-friendly restaurant nearby. Large portions, decent taste—ideal for our current hunger levels." Jack smiled and didn't decline Mike's offer.
Thus, a group of over a dozen people—including Jack and his two assistants—marched out of the state TV station building.
As a veteran employee, Jack knew the surrounding area well.
He led the group to a "hole-in-the-wall" diner. The decor was unimpressive, but the aroma of food wafting from the kitchen was rich and inviting.
Due to the affordable prices, the place was still bustling with customers even past peak hours.
Platters of barbecue, fruit pizzas, vegetable salads...
After expertly ordering for the group, Jack also requested a few cans of local craft beer.
With two seasoned drinkers present—Meemaw and George—the dining atmosphere quickly became convivial.
After a few beers, Jack and his two colleagues were chatting with the Coopers like old friends.
Jack used the mealtime to discuss the upcoming photoshoot logistics with Mike.
However, as the beer flowed, Jack started to loosen up. He began to vent about his current career stagnation.
Originally aiming for a career in the Television Division, he had been transferred to the Newspaper Division for reasons unknown.
Although he had been promoted to team leader, Jack still harbored ambitions of returning to TV.
This was why he was willing to sacrifice profit margins on the poster distribution to focus entirely on the success of "Project Star Maker."
He was playing the long game: swallowing his pride now to build a track record that would facilitate his transfer back to the TV Division.
Given his "working for Caesar but loyal to Han" situation, it was easy to understand why he had sold out James earlier.
"Incompetent and pretentious... I've always found James statistically annoying. Saying it out loud provides significant catharsis..."
toward the end of the meal, Jack sobered up slightly after his venting session. He turned to his two assistants and made a promise. "Don't worry, you two. When I transfer back to the TV Division, I'm taking you with me."
The growth potential of the TV Division far exceeded that of the newspaper.
Recognizing this, the two employees pledged their loyalty to follow Jack.
Though unfortunate, forming alliances and cliques was an unavoidable aspect of climbing the corporate ladder.
having solidified the loyalty of his subordinates, Jack's mood seemed to improve considerably.
Seeing that everyone had finished eating, he proposed, "Alright, let's return to our duties. The sooner we complete the tasks, the sooner we can terminate the workday."
---
A lavish lunch for over a dozen people cost less than two hundred dollars.
This "budget-friendly" diner certainly lived up to its name; value for money was the primary selling point.
Later, in the professional studio at the TV station.
Mike followed instructions and posed for a series of test shots in various styles: athletic, collegiate, and even a "Western cowboy" theme.
"You really are enviable. Even if you don't work in the future, you could easily sustain yourself as a model..." Jack commented with a laugh as he reviewed the raw images.
It had to be said: professionals yield professional results.
Currently on the monitor was a set of photos in the athletic style.
Mike's clean, sunny aura made him look like a vibrant sunflower, radiating youthful energy.
"Is the mission objective complete?" Seeing the high quality of the photos, Mike let out a sigh of relief.
Changing outfits and holding poses for over an hour was surprisingly mentally draining.
"Affirmative. These photos are guaranteed to cause a statistical spike in heart rates among the female demographic." Jack was in high spirits due to the efficiency of the shoot.
He even suggested taking Mike and the group on a tour of the TV station building.
After all, it was a rare opportunity.
However, having already spent half the day there, Mike and the others had zero interest in touring an office building.
So, the group bid farewell to Jack and embarked on the journey home.
By the time they returned to Medford, it was around 6:00 PM.
"I should be departing as well." Arriving at the Cooper house, Dr. John Sturgis, looking somewhat fatigued, bid his farewells.
Dedicated to scientific research, he didn't possess Meemaw's boundless energy.
Between the football game and the half-day excursion at the TV station, the physical activity had been strenuous for the old professor.
Before leaving, he looked at Mike, Sheldon, and Paige. "I am preparing to launch an aerospace research project. I intend to make another attempt at the Nobel Prize. Would you be interested in joining my research team?"
Ah, so Dr. Sturgis had accompanied them all day with an ulterior motive.
Following the success of the moon landing, aerospace and extraterrestrial exploration were currently the hottest fields in cutting-edge science.
Clearly, Dr. Sturgis wanted to ride this wave for one last push before retirement.
As a top-tier researcher, who could resist the allure of a Nobel?
"What is the specific focus of your aerospace project?" Sheldon expressed intense interest in joining a Nobel-track team.
"Researching a new flight formula for aerial vehicles. Your and Mike's previous paper on 'Multi-Stage Rocket Propulsion' actually provided the inspiration," Dr. Sturgis explained with a smile.
"I'm in," Sheldon declared immediately.
"Excellent." Dr. Sturgis nodded in satisfaction, then looked at Mike and Paige. "And you two?"
"I will follow Mike's lead..." Paige didn't seem overly excited.
Clearly, she was deferring to Mike's decision.
"I require more time to process the data," Mike replied conservatively, facing the professor's expectant gaze.
Knowing for a fact that aliens existed (in this universe), he wasn't particularly bullish on Dr. Sturgis's research prospects.
Compared to certain extraterrestrial technologies, human aerospace research was primitive.
This was the disadvantage of information asymmetry for the average person.
On one hand, suppressing information about the supernatural/extraterrestrial maintained social stability. On the other hand, it left humanity living in a dream.
It was essentially a massive, real-life version of The Truman Show.
"That is acceptable. My project approval likely won't come through until the second half of the year. You have plenty of time to consider..." Dr. Sturgis said patiently.
After bidding everyone goodbye again, the old professor mounted his bicycle and left the Cooper residence.
---
"Mike, you were so cool today."
In the Cooper living room, while waiting for dinner, Georgie brought up the day's events. "That was a contract worth tens of thousands of dollars. If it were me, I probably would have agreed the moment the manager offered one percent."
Yes, for the average person, tangible cash was far more interesting than aerospace research.
Everyone prioritized different variables. Georgie, with his limited horizon, naturally focused on different issues than a super-genius like Sheldon.
"Mike, I may have oversimplified the situation earlier. Even with the newspaper's support, scheduling an invitational with Houston High is statistically unlikely..." Sitting on the sofa, Coach George began to reflect on his own eagerness.
Houston High, as last year's state champions, naturally had an ego.
Teams of that caliber, if they chose a local opponent at all, would only pick the runner-up.
A relatively unknown team like Medford likely hadn't even entered their visual field.
Coach George had simply been too excited and failed to consider all the variables.
"It doesn't matter. We just do our best. If it doesn't work out, the league in the second half of the year will be our opportunity to demonstrate our value," Mike comforted George, ignoring Georgie's low-value chatter.
And that was the truth. The Medford football team had momentum. With Mike as their ace, Medford had the capability to seize the number one spot in the state during this year's summer league.
Viewed from that perspective, Houston High wasn't anything special.