Similar experiences were happening at many other news outlets as well.
The main reason was simple. In this city, which gathered countless elites and wealthy people from all over the world, there were simply too many people using the banner of so-called futuristic robots to hype up promotions and trick investors. They were as common as fish crossing a river.
And in the end, many of them were exposed, leaving not only the investors but also the media to be mocked by the public afterward.
So by now, people had become numb to this kind of thing.
...
Of course, there were still special cases.
Elsewhere, in the Daily Bugle Building on 39th Street and Second Avenue in New York City,
J. Jonah Jameson, who was determined to turn the Daily Bugle into the number one news outlet in America,
looked at the newspaper office that had been operating at a loss for several months straight because they had failed to produce a single truly worthwhile piece of news.
He was so troubled that he smoked cigar after cigar, until his entire office was wrapped in thick white smoke.
And that was not even the worst of it. On his desk was stack after stack of what his editors believed to be potential blockbuster news material.
But every single one of them made his blood pressure rise. In fact, if he had not just taken his blood pressure medicine, he seriously suspected he would already be lying in the ICU instead of sitting here getting angry over a pile of useless idiotic photos.
"Damn it, for the love of God, I really want to shove all of you idiots right back where you came from and have you remade from scratch."
"Even a three-year-old brat could write something with more flavor than this flavorless garbage."
"One after another, all of you are just deadweight collecting paychecks without producing a damn thing."
Jameson cursed as he continued flipping through the material his subordinates had gathered. But clearly, he had overestimated their professional standards.
After throwing all of it aside, he still had not found a single news lead that satisfied him.
Until the next moment, he saw an envelope on the side of the desk stamped as coming from Miami.
"Strange. I don't remember having any friends over there."
After muttering that to himself, Jameson still opened the envelope out of curiosity. Inside, he took out a printed sheet containing Baymax's photo along with a detailed introduction.
"A groundbreaking technology. The birth of a medical robot. Your own personal health consultant."
"It will lead you into a brand-new chapter of the future world."
"Interesting."
After opening it and reading the invitation and its wording, Jameson, who had been on the verge of erupting like thunder, instantly brightened up as if he had just seen an ice-cold beauty.
"Banier! Get your damn ass out of that chair and into my office right now!"
The moment he opened the door, Jameson roared at the middle-aged bespectacled man in the distance, who was currently fooling around with a female intern at his desk.
As far as he was concerned, every second of rest during work hours was money being stolen from him, not to mention openly flirting on company time.
This month, he was definitely docking the man's attendance bonus.
That was Jameson's inner conclusion.
He then slammed the office door shut in irritation.
"Boss, hello. What are your orders?"
As soon as he entered, Banier put on a humble expression and spoke to Jameson, who now had his legs propped up on the desk.
"Take this and get a report written immediately."
"Put it on page two. The whole article should revolve around the headline. Something like, Shocking! The Birth of Robots, Is It Humanity's Gospel or the End of Days?"
"Then emphasize that robots could rebel and rule humanity. Make up the rest yourself."
After handing over the invitation he had received, Jameson immediately continued.
"????"
"But, boss, that's not what it says on here."
After hearing his boss's words, Banier looked the invitation over again and again, but no matter how many times he read it, he could not see how this thing had anything to do with sci-fi killer robots or the end of humanity. So he asked with a confused expression.
"Hm?! Say that again. Tell me one more time that it doesn't say that."
"Are those quail-egg-sized eyes of yours broken?"
"Does it mention robots or not?"
"Yes!"
"And is it about the birth of a robot? And does it mention medicine?"
"Yes!"
"Then is it possible that it's a blessing to humanity?"
"Yes!"
"And have you seen Terminator?"
"Uh..."
"Hmm?!"
"Yes!"
Faced with his boss's relentless questioning, Banier was already sweating heavily as he bent over and nodded.
After all, he was dealing with one of New York's greatest exploitative vampires.
"Then is it possible it could rebel? Is it possible it could be the end of humanity? Tell me, this is such a simple and obvious line of logic, right there in front of you. What exactly don't you understand? Do I really have to explain it to you word by word like a kindergarten teacher?"
Looking at this subordinate who had followed him for so long and still failed to absorb even one ten-thousandth of his brilliance, Jameson spoke with deep disappointment.
"I understand, I understand. Thank you for the guidance, boss. I'll go handle it immediately."
Hearing that Jameson was about to explode, Banier respectfully replied, then immediately turned around and fled the office as if escaping for his life.
"Sigh. Young people these days are nothing like how I was back then. They don't know how to make life easier for their superiors."
"But this thing really is kind of interesting. Saturday, huh? I really should go take a look."
After Banier left, Jameson calmed down again and stared at the invitation while muttering to himself.
For him, if the newspaper wanted to rise, then it had to always have the eye to spot a potential explosion point.
And right now, he felt this thing might very well be a huge one.
Of course, only might.
Forgive him, but he simply could not connect a human-shaped inflatable balloon with the idea of a metal robot.
Because of the influence of movies like Terminator and others like it, people had always believed that robots would only ever be metal skeletons, or at most robots that looked exactly like humans.
As for an inflatable balloon robot, forgive their lack of imagination, but nobody really had that kind of brainwave.
...
Saturday night.
Times Square, New York.
As the core economic center of the United States, New York was a world-class metropolis with a population of eight million people.
Every day, countless dream-chasers carrying their ambitions and desires rushed into this city of endless opportunities, striving and struggling in the hope of building a legendary life of their own.
And when night fell, that feeling only became even stronger.
(End of Chapter)
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