The meeting room on the second floor of the New Testament Evening News.

Sean Dickinson walked in the door and looked up at the staff in the conference room—

The reporters in the editorial department were sitting with the team leader Vincent. They were still joking about something before, but they stopped talking immediately after seeing the new president enter the door, with an unfriendly smile on their faces.

The head and deputy head of the printing and marketing department, a man and a woman, are exactly the same in fat and height, like a couple from a cartoon. Seeing Xiao En come in, the two of them stared wide-eyed, as if they were dissatisfied with the general meeting. After all, their department is only responsible for work, and meetings are a waste of time.

The head of the advertising department pushed his glasses. He looked bad, with deep dark circles and bags under his eyes. The whole portrait seemed to have only three tones of black, white and gray. He yawned lazily, obviously unmotivated.

The accounting lady blinked her big eyes, but her mind seemed to have left the meeting room.

Editor-in-Chief Steve Ryan sat across the long table, ashtrays and coffee cups in front of him. His sitting posture is so relaxed, as if he is in his own home.

Sean's original plan was to let the employees take a break and hold this meeting tomorrow or the day after tomorrow.

But when he saw today's New Testament Evening Post, he felt that he couldn't procrastinate any longer—

He doesn't allow the newspaper he manages to look like this, not for a second.

There is no choice but to hold a meeting.

With a light cough, the aura of a strong soul naturally spread out, and everyone in the meeting room involuntarily sat upright.

The editor-in-chief frowned, and stubbed out the cigarette with some discomfort in his heart. He couldn't understand why he had some instinctive awe of this young man. He coughed lightly to relieve the awkward feeling.

After confirming that everyone's eyes were on him, Sean raised the newspaper in his hand—it was the "New Testament Evening News" that hadn't been printed yet.

He didn't say anything, and put the evening paper in front of John who was sitting next to him: "John, read today's headlines."

"Yes, Mr. Dickinson." John cleared his throat narrowly. "Blanken Park Ball, Reporter, Tom Exon..."

"Not long after the New Year's Ball, Branken Manor held another wonderful ball to celebrate the visit of St. Chris, one of the six saints..."

"Okay, John." Sean interrupted John's reading, "You have read this report, I want to ask you..." Sean did not look at John, but looked straight ahead, looking at the editor The core figures of the Ministry, "What is written in this report?"

"Uh..." John looked away from the newspaper in his hand, "It wrote, er, the ladies' dresses at the ball, criticized Miss Rios's wearing the same dress as the previous year's Christmas ball, and wrote the New Testament Bishop Liland's favorite food, and the eccentricity of the New Testament finance minister's meal..."

"Well, it's almost there. These are indeed." Sean nodded and continued to ask, "John, I want to ask you, what year is this year?"

"Huh? Mr. Dickinson?" John didn't understand what Sean meant.

"What year is 199, John?"

"1925, sir."

Sean: "Oh, John, thank you! If you hadn't reminded me, I would have thought it was 1900 when I read today's evening paper."

Almost everyone could understand Sean's joke, and there was a burst of low laughter from the meeting room.

Vincent, the reporter leader, laughed, and so did Tom, who wrote the story. But editor-in-chief Ryan didn't laugh.

"Everyone, are you serious?" Sean tried his best to control his emotions, "It's 1925 now, and the European War has ended for so long—is our front page headline or what we saw at the dance?"

As he said, Sean threw today's New Testament Times on the table. Compared with the old and stale typesetting next to it, the typesetting of New Testament Times seemed particularly agile, and the huge text seemed to jump out of the paper: "Shooting to death! —”

The subtitle below it read: "In the lower city, three people died!"

"This **** newspaper sold more than 300,000 copies yesterday and today, and it can be predicted that there will be more and no fewer tomorrow! Can you tell me why now?"

"Mr. Dickinson, please calm down." Ryan's voice was as low as thunder, although the voice was not loud, it could reach everyone's ears, "I know what you want to express. The front page headline chosen by the Times is indeed Eye catching, but...

"You may not know, the old readers of the Evening Post don't like change, and the prom news is indeed an old-fashioned report, but they do like it...

"If we give up old readers, newspaper sales will only..."

Sean waved his hand, and Ryan, who became more and more excited as he spoke, blinked and swallowed the words back.

"We have a lot of things to discuss..." Sean said with a slow tone, "I think this matter is the least necessary to discuss." His finger pointed at the title of "Prom Experience".

"As you all know, the sales volume of Evening News is going from bad to worse...

"If we don't save ourselves quickly, there may be no "New Testament Evening News" in the future."

After Sean's words were spoken, he won the affirmation of some people.

But under the watchful eye of the editor-in-chief Ryan, those who affirmed all took back their attitudes.

"So, today," Sean said slowly, "I'm going to announce a few important things."

As if it was the eve of the rainstorm, the meeting room suddenly became quieter.

"First," Sean raised a finger, "The New Testament Evening Post will change its name and enter the newspaper market with a brand new look."

Before he could finish his sentence, there were rustling discussions in the meeting room.

A facelift is a big deal for a newspaper, something it would not do unless it had to be done as a last resort.

It is also the most disgusting thing for conservative people.

Amidst the discussion, Sean raised his second finger: "Second, suspend journal for seven days for reorganization—but ~lightnovelpub.net~ I will write a letter as the new president to explain our suspension."

The voices of the discussion grew louder, and people exchanged nervous glances, not understanding what was going on here...

"Third..." Sean's voice became louder in order to suppress the panicked comments, "The price of the New Testament Evening Post with a new look will be adjusted from 4 cents to 2 cents."

"What?!" The reporter leader almost shouted, "Are we going to become a penny paper?!"

Penny papers are newspapers that go the cheap-priced route. In the past, the mainstream of penny newspapers were 1-cent newspapers, but now the unit price of penny newspapers is mostly 2 cents. Today, penny newspapers sell more than 100,000 copies on the market.

As if the sky was falling, the meeting room became noisy.

When Sean said the third decision, people seemed to let go of their complaints about the first two.

It seemed to them that turning the Evening New Testament into a penny paper was a matter of selling their souls.