The Grab car, a sensible Vios, looked almost comically out of place pulling up to the imposing gates of Jun-Jun's Makati residence. Mang George met the driver, confirming the destination for Migs with quiet efficiency. As Migs climbed into the back seat, Mang George discreetly handed the driver an envelope. The driver glanced inside, his eyes widening significantly as he saw the thick wad of P1,000 bills – the P50,000 tip Jun-Jun had casually ordered. He looked up at Mang George, then towards the house, then back at the envelope, seemingly questioning reality before quickly nodding his thanks and focusing intently on the road ahead.
"Text me when you get home safe!" Jun-Jun called out cheerfully from the driveway.
Migs just gave a weary wave through the car window, his expression saying, 'Safe from what? You?' The Grab car pulled away, leaving Jun-Jun alone in the quiet, manicured driveway, bathed in the soft glow of the landscape lighting.
Jun-Jun sighed contentedly. A successful mission. Good friends, good food, a reasonable amount of vehicular chaos, and minimal property damage (that he knew of). He turned and ambled back towards the house, the silent doors gliding open before him.
Mang George was waiting in the foyer, holding a sleek tablet device. "Sir Jun-Jun, a few remaining items from today's activities."
"Updates already, Mang George? You're faster than fiber optics!" Jun-Jun praised, heading towards a large, comfortable-looking den off the main living area – a room slightly less minimalist, with plush sofas, bookshelves filled with seemingly unread classics and graphic novels, and a state-of-the-art entertainment system.
"Standard procedure requires prompt resolution, sir," Mang George replied evenly, following him. "Regarding the consultancy offer to Captain Reyes – his office acknowledged receipt of the fruit basket but stated Captain Reyes is 'unavailable for comment' regarding the consultancy at this time. They did, however, attach a list of thirteen potential charges related to the EDSA and Quezon Avenue incidents they are currently 'evaluating'."
Jun-Jun waved a dismissive hand as he sank into a leather armchair. "Evaluating means negotiating. Tell the legal team to... triple their standard 'make-it-go-away' budget for this one. And maybe send Captain Reyes another fruit basket? Perhaps one with imported Belgian chocolates this time."
"Very good, sir. The Belgian chocolate basket contingency is noted," Mang George made a note on his tablet. "The acquisition of 'Sparkle & Shine Car Wash' is proceeding. The previous owner accepted the rather generous online transfer instantly and seems eager to finalize the turnover. Your instructions regarding lifetime free washes for the taxi convoy have been relayed."
"Excellent! And Leo?"
"Mr. Leo Marasigan has been informed of his promotion to Branch Manager, effective immediately, with a significant salary increase. His reaction was... emotional, sir. He expressed profound gratitude."
"See?" Jun-Jun beamed. "Spreading joy and solving parking problems! Win-win!" He picked up a remote, activating a holographic display that shimmered into existence above a low table, showing various global stock tickers, news feeds, and what looked like satellite maps. "Anything else?"
"Just confirmation on the vehicles, sir. The sedan currently awaits scrapping. The bakery is negotiating retrieval terms for the bread truck – your generous compensation offer seems to have smoothed things over considerably. And the party bus remains secure at the car wash, awaiting your further instructions or retrieval."
"Good, good," Jun-Jun mumbled, idly flicking through holographic displays. He stopped on what looked like a personal finance app – it displayed his name, a simple logo, and under 'Current Balance', the symbol '∞'. He tapped it once, seemed satisfied, and closed the app. "Keep me posted on the party bus. Might need it for... something."
"Of course, sir," Mang George said. "Will there be anything else this evening? Shall I prepare a nightcap?"
"Hmm, no, I think I'm good," Jun-Jun said. "Been a long day. Might just relax. Watch a documentary about... competitive cheese rolling or something."
"Very good, sir." Mang George gave a slight bow. "Please call if you require anything further." He retreated as silently as he had appeared, leaving Jun-Jun alone in the high-tech den.
For a few minutes, Jun-Jun actually did flick through documentaries. He watched a snippet about deep-sea anglerfish, then one about the history of Velcro. But stillness didn't come naturally to him. The silence felt... empty. The adrenaline from the day's chaotic chase had faded, leaving behind the hum of infinite potential and a mind that raced with possibilities.
The zero-gravity halo-halo idea still tickled his fancy. Impractical, Migs had said. Messy. Difficult. Jun-Jun pulled out his phone again, bypassing the Philippine charter services and searching for international aerospace brokers and private zero-G flight providers based in the US or Russia. He sent off a few initial inquiries via encrypted message, outlining his 'culinary experiment' and emphasizing that budget was 'flexible to the point of theoretical irrelevance'. Responses would take time, but he'd planted the seeds.
Then he remembered brunch with Migs tomorrow. Migs wanted normal. Pedestrian. Fine. Jun-Jun could do normal-ish. He searched for upscale brunch spots in Makati or BGC. He found one with good reviews, outdoor seating, and readily available valet parking. Perfect. He made a reservation under a false name – experience had taught him that sometimes anonymity was useful, at least initially.
But just booking wasn't enough. He called the restaurant directly. "Yes, hello? I have a reservation for tomorrow under 'Mr. Santos'. I'd like to arrange a few things. First, please ensure the entire outdoor patio section is reserved exclusively for our party of two... Yes, I understand it seats fifty, that's fine... Second, I want your best champagne chilled... yes, several bottles... And have your chef prepare a special off-menu item: halo-halo. But make it... artisanal. Use Tahitian vanilla bean in the custard, import the ice from a Norwegian glacier – I'll provide coordinates if needed – source the ube from an organic farm in Bohol I'm about to buy... and maybe infuse the milk with saffron?"
He listened for a moment, then chuckled. "Yes, I'm quite serious. Budget? Let's just say... don't worry about it. Send the bill to Mang George at this number; he'll handle the pre-payment. Excellent! Thank you!"
He hung up, satisfied. A normal brunch, elevated. Migs would appreciate the effort, surely.
He leaned back in the armchair, gazing at the holographic display, which now showed a live feed of the Earth from orbit – a view readily available via one of his many satellite connections. He thought about the day – the traffic, the bread, the flashing lights, the taste of that perfect halo-halo. It was fun. It was problem-solving on a grand scale, using the one tool he had in infinite supply.
He wondered briefly if Captain Reyes would actually accept the consultancy job. It would be amusing. He wondered if Mang Cardo was home yet, trying to explain his sudden windfall to his family. He wondered if Leo the car wash attendant was already making plans as the new manager. Small ripples from his chaotic passage through the city.
He yawned. Even he felt the edges of fatigue now. Time for bed. Tomorrow was another day, ripe with the potential for turning the mundane into the extraordinary, one ridiculously expensive whim at a time. Brunch awaited. And maybe, just maybe, he'd figure out those edible space helmets.