It was the weekend, and Mike, dressed in a casual suit, drove his red Ferrari towards the Men in Black Headquarters.
Manhattan's Sixth Avenue can be considered New York's transportation hub, with an abundance of roads and overpasses.
The Hudson River flows through here, so there is also a Port Authority.
From the perspective of overall industrial development, its practicality here clearly outweighs its residential attributes.
Heaven knows why the Men in Black Headquarters is located here.
Following the address on the invitation, Mike drove his sports car all the way to the suburbs, finally stopping at the lower reaches of the Hudson River, directly in front of the massive stone pier of the cross-river bridge.
Next to it was a vast desolate area.
With such concealment, it was no wonder Mike hadn't found any clues about the Men in Black Headquarters before.
"Hey, buddy, nice sports car!" With an impudent whistle, a strong Black man, chasing the car's exhaust, also arrived in front of the pier: "Let's get acquainted, my name is James Edwards, and I'm a regular police detective in New York."
Perhaps seeing Mike holding the same invitation, James's attitude was quite enthusiastic.
"Damn, this place is really hard to find. I don't know what that MIB does." At the same time, James, wearing a loose sweatshirt, also possessed the unique rapping skills of Men in Black: "I thought they were recruiting agents, but now I feel like they're more likely looking for actors or models..."
"Could the MIB actually be an agency? But with a headquarters in a place like this, business surely can't be good..."
While complaining, James didn't forget to size up Mike and observe his surroundings.
[Investigation Experience +66]…[Anti-Investigation Experience +50]…[Shooting Experience +35]…[Rap Experience +10]…
It must be said that James was indeed worthy of being the detective favored by the Men in Black Headquarters; his alertness was truly impressive.
"Mike, a Columbia University graduate. Nice to meet you." Only after the other party stopped talking did Mike greet the future Agent J.
"God! I knew the MIB didn't sound like a legitimate organization!" After learning of Mike's student identity, James genuinely began to doubt the MIB's motives.
"Wait, why do you look so familiar? Were you an athlete before...football...that's right, you're Tornado!" Clearly, James's memory was as good as his observation skills.
At least in this situation, he still had the luxury of letting his thoughts wander.
And what he meant by familiar was probably the inspirational documentary about Mike on the Medford Team last year.
What Mike didn't expect was that the documentary would spread so widely.
"I used to be a member of the Medford Team." Suddenly hearing the nickname Tornado, Mike inexplicably felt a little embarrassed.
"Yes, it was the high school league documentary, I remember you. I thought this guy was good then..." After recognizing Mike's hidden identity, James was clearly more enthusiastic, continuing: "Are you still playing football? I can tell you have great talent; you'll definitely become a sports superstar in the future."
"We can talk about that later if we have the chance—" Mike pulled the conversation back, saying: "Shouldn't we find the entrance to the Men in Black Headquarters first?"
The best way to curb a chatterbox is to divert their attention.
Who knows what would happen if the two of them continued to chat.
"You're right, we should go see what the MIB is." When it came to business, James returned to normal.
Then, the two of them tapped and knocked on the large stone pier in front of them, finally discovering a small window behind some weeds.
"Hey, we're the people Agent O called for, how do we get in?" James shouted at the book-sized window, simultaneously gesturing with his hands and feet how to squeeze through such a small window.
Inside the entrance reception room, a staff member in a Black suit had already seen the situation outside through surveillance equipment, especially the special invitations in Mike's and James's hands.
As James shouted, the staff member pressed the door opening button. Then, with a "hissing" sound, a highly futuristic metal door appeared on the perfectly sealed stone pier.
Behind the door was another long, fantastical tunnel.
It must be said that the MIB had a great imagination, designing their headquarters underground.
"Where should we go to find Agent O?" After entering the door, James asked the receptionist in the reception room.
The receptionist in the black suit coldly pointed to the other end of the tunnel, without speaking.
"The staff here are really cold, no wonder business isn't good." James complained as he walked along the only passage.
It's worth mentioning that his pace was slightly faster than Mike's, and his right hand was always close to the pistol on his lower back.
Mike was sure that if danger arose, the other party would draw their gun immediately.
And so, the two walked all the way to the end of the passage without encountering anyone else.
At the end, a row of rooms appeared, the largest of which had its door wide open.
Inside were eight active military personnel dressed in various military uniforms; judging by their formidable aura and the patterns on their epaulets, they were clearly elites selected from various military forces.
It was at this moment that James, feeling the aura of his kind, relaxed his tense nerves a little.
"Assessment time is here, please take your seats as soon as possible, otherwise it will be considered a forfeiture." A MIB Agent in the room glanced outside and said expressionlessly.
"Wait, I don't even know what you're assessing, and whether your organization complies with regulations." James was full of doubts.
However, facing the questions, the MIB Agent in the room had no intention of answering.
The military personnel sitting in a row in the room also maintained strict discipline, not looking sideways.
"After the assessment, you should get your answers." Mike reminded James, then walked into the room first and sat down on a hemispherical chair.
The chair was like an egg cut in half vertically, smooth all around, and not comfortable to sit in.
"What kind of chair is this? It's too uncomfortable!" Sure enough, James, who sat next to Mike, immediately complained about the chair.
Of course, his complaints had no effect; the only MIB Agent in the room had already distributed test papers and pencils to everyone according to the procedure.
The questions on the test paper were not difficult, mostly about how to handle emergencies, as well as crowd evacuation and follow-up work.
However, the MIB Agent only gave out test papers and pencils, without providing tables for answering.
With thin and brittle test papers and sharp pencils, it was truly difficult to write on the paper without a suitable place to answer.
At this time, the eight military personnel on the side had already spread their test papers on their laps and started answering. However, the occasional "plop, plop" sound of the paper being punctured proved that this method was not suitable.
"Hey, sports kid. Come give me a hand," James, who had also poked several holes in his test paper, set his sights on the only low table in the room.
Yes, in the very center of the room, there was a knee-high table.
At this moment, James was leaning on the table, winking at Mike.
"Why don't you bring your test paper over?" Mike went to the table, spread his test paper on the low table, and sat on the floor to answer.
Not bad, the height was just right.
"Why didn't I think of that?" James also followed suit and brought his test paper over.
It should be noted that the bases of that row of hemispherical chairs were over a meter high, so moving the low table over would also be inconvenient for answering.
Instead, the method Mike thought of was not only labor-saving but also very practical.
After a comparison, the actions of Mike and James also attracted the attention of the eight military personnel behind them.
"There are still many spots here, you can come over if you want." After sensing the surprised gazes of the others, James generously extended an invitation.
However, due to their discipline, the eight military personnel quickly withdrew their gazes and continued to write on their laps.
Although the MIB Agent in the room did not raise any objections to Mike and James's "violating" behavior.
This, in all likelihood, meant he tacitly approved of Mike and James's approach.
"It looks like we've found two good young men this time. Don't you agree, Agent K?" In the room separated from the examination room by a wall, a woman with half-white hair spoke.
In this smaller room, a futuristic LCD screen was displaying the situation inside the examination room.
"It's too early to say that. Whether he can pass the assessment ultimately depends on him." Agent K, whose face already showed wrinkles, had a businesslike demeanor.
"K, you're still so rigid," Agent O smiled, then turned to the stout man with a mustache behind her and said: "Agent Z, please help me organize the data of that young man named Mike."
"Yes, Agent O," Agent Z replied.
Yes, there were three Men in Black in this small room.
And within the MIB, in addition to special operations personnel like Agent K, there were also administrators like Agent O, and clerical staff like Agent Z.
It's just that as they gradually aged, the MIB urgently needed new blood.
And in this assessment, strictly speaking, James and Mike were not qualified to be here at all.
But because James had a deep connection with Agent K, his spot was considered a special recommendation by Agent K.
Of course, the opportunity was given, but Agent K wouldn't interfere much with whether James ultimately qualified.
As for Mike, it was because Agent O needed someone to take the lead in dealing with the increasing number of supernatural events on the planet.
So Mike also got this opportunity.