In The DC World With Marvel Chat Group - Chapter 490: Little Prodigies of Getting Rich (1)

After seeing off Constantine, Merkel took a cloth and meticulously wiped the chairs and tables he had occupied, his feelings of disdain almost visibly written on his face.

Just as he finished these tasks, the second expected visitor arrived. As Merkel went downstairs to welcome him, he saw Bruce standing outside Manor.

Bruce had a prior appointment, so Merkel was much more enthusiastic. He walked up to open the door for Bruce. Once Bruce entered the Manor, he headed straight for Schiller’s study as if he knew the way by heart.

Upon entering the study, Bruce’s gaze fell upon the abacus. Seeing Schiller manipulating the abacus while examining a set of bills, he instantly knew the topic of discussion for today.

“You’ve arrived? Please, have a seat,” Schiller gestured to the chair opposite. After Bruce sat down, Schiller glanced at him. Just as he was about to speak, Bruce interjected, “I’ll have my paper completed by tomorrow.”

Sighing, Schiller was about to speak again, but Bruce continued, “I’ve written over 3000 words.”

Bruce spoke once more before Schiller could say anything, “I haven’t deviated from the topic this time, and I’ve meticulously reviewed the symbols.”

With another sigh, Schiller said, “You’re quick to respond, but that’s not what I wanted to discuss today.”

A trace of surprise appeared on Bruce’s typically expressionless face, and his eye contact with Schiller resembled someone looking at a parrot that had sprouted a second head overnight.

Schiller extended his hand to Bruce and said, “Remember what we discussed over the telephone? The detailed bill for the Gotham reconstruction and compensation?”

Bruce handed over a set of documents to Schiller. As Schiller began flipping through the pages, he furrowed his brows upon looking at the first page. He said, “I forgot to mention, the unit for this reimbursement bill isn’t in dollars; it’s in Green Lantern rings.”

“So you’re suggesting we request compensation from the Green Lantern Corps?” Bruce immediately grasped Schiller’s intention, but he shook his head and said, “They won’t compensate. If they truly cared about humanity, they wouldn’t have recklessly descended here and left this place in ruins.”

“That’s not important; we just need a pretext.”

“If they refuse compensation, what’s your plan?”

With a sigh, Schiller looked at Bruce and said, “Let me reiterate, it’s not about me sending a bill over to the other side for them to decide on compensation.”

“If they decline compensation, are you planning to cause another major incident, perhaps even bombing their homeworld?”

Schiller’s expression paused for a moment. Seeing that, Bruce’s expression also stiffened as he stared at Schiller and asked, “You’re not seriously considering that, are you?”

Schiller coughed a couple of times and awkwardly shifted the topic. He said, “I know, the usual procedure is that we send the compensation bill to the other side, and if they disagree, we proceed with legal actions. But the problem is, they are the court themselves.”

“In space, there’s no third party with the authority to arbitrate in this matter. Or even if there were, engaging with them prematurely wouldn’t be in our favor…”

“So, I don’t intend to go through the legal process with them. Haven’t you forgotten? We have our people on the other side.”

“I’ve researched it before. The structure of the Green Lantern Corps is quite simple, even somewhat rudimentary. The Corps’ leader usually has two assistants—one handles external military affairs, and the other manages internal matters, mainly personnel and finances.”

“But, because Sinestro defected from the Green Lantern Corps earlier, the current leader of the Corps is acting under emergency orders. He hasn’t been able to find two deputies, so both aspects of these duties are consolidated under one person. And now, that person is Hal.”

“I believe you’ve already noticed that the responsibilities are highly unified, yet there’s a lack of corresponding oversight system. This leads to many feasible actions, skipping the process of legal procedures or the threat of force, achieving the same goal.”

While Schiller was speaking, Bruce kept his eyes fixed on him. After hearing him out, Bruce said, “It seems your anxiety disorder is indeed severe, to the extent of split personality. Who are you, really?”

“I’m Schiller, but if the familiar Professor Schiller were to hear your words, your final grades could be in danger,” Schiller shook his head and said.

Bruce’s expression first showed surprise, then quickly turned into his classic skeptical look. However, before he could ask further, Schiller held up the bill and said, “Even if the prices listed here are in dollars, they’re likely too conservative.”

“The loss of a red and green lights at Central Roundabout? The term ‘red and green light’ isn’t accurate, did you forget? Initially, Gordon took your Bat-Signal, modified it into the red and green lights at Central Roundabout.”

“What technology does your Bat-Signal use?… Never mind, I wouldn’t understand it anyway. Let’s just write ‘nuclear fusion’.”

Schiller put on his glasses, pushed the bill a bit farther away, and continued to frown as he carefully examined it. Soon, he said, “Damage to the asphalt pavement… well, you’re calling the ground collapsing by 3.5 meters ‘damage to the pavement’?”

“Let me think, your Batcave has an underground section, right? Do you have a land permit?”

“Later, go see the mayor. Consider the Batcave as a public building portion of Central Roundabout, count it as shared space. Report it as a building fire, important equipment damage. As for what equipment is important, that’s up to you, Victor, and the other technical personnel.”

“What else? Oh, here, the rebuilding of this part also needs a change.”

“Didn’t we discuss this during transportation planning? When Central Roundabout was first established, its limitations were significant due to its small area. So, widen it a bit.”

“How much wider?”

“2000 kilometers?”

“…I’m afraid the Soviet Union wouldn’t agree.” Bruce responded with an expressionless face. “If you plan to turn the entire Pacific Ocean into Gotham’s transportation hub, you’ll need negotiations with the Kremlin first.”

“Well, let’s repair it according to the damaged area for now. How big is it roughly?”

“The diameter was increased to 1.5 times the original size. According to a joint report from the City Planning Department and the Gotham University Architecture Department, it’s sufficient.”

Schiller sighed deeply. He glanced at Merkel beside him and asked, “Can’t we just make a Telephone call to the Kremlin?”

Bruce just looked at him with that classic expression, not saying a word. Schiller lowered his head and continued to read the report. Then he pointed to one of the items and said, “The warehouse damage is a major issue.”

Schiller pondered for a moment and said, “Do you have any moon landing plans lately?”

Upon hearing this question, Bruce’s expression subtly changed. Seeing Bruce’s expression, Schiller’s expression also stiffened. He said, “You’re not seriously planning a moon landing, are you?”

Bruce remained expressionless, and Schiller sighed, returning his gaze to the bill. “Warehouse goods filled with Space engines and their accompanying parts, reporting goods damage, and then reporting electronic waste disposal fees, chemical waste disposal fees, radiation and hazardous waste disposal fees…”

“Are you trying to mortgage a planet from them?”

Schiller shook his head and said, “I don’t want massive planetary waste, energy is enough.”

He set the bill aside and looked at Bruce, saying, “When the military requests annual funding to attack oil-producing countries, it’s not fundamentally because they covet the desert itself but rather the oil fields beneath it.”

“The Emotional Spectrum is equivalent to the oil fields in space. Currently, Humanity lacks the ability for large-scale development of this ‘oil field.’ At this point, we have two choices. Either, like I did before, steal some of it the clumsy way, but that method is highly dangerous, unsustainable, and genuinely troublesome.”

“There’s another option, similar to what the military and we are currently doing: instigate a war, create a lot of trouble, shuffle things internally, plant our own people, gradually undermine the leadership, and then make a portion of them willingly sell the ‘oil’ to us.”

“So, from now on, you will…”

Schiller put away the bills, gently flicked the beads on the abacus, and then revealed a smile on Bruce’s face that he had never seen before.

The next day, at the headquarters of the Green Lantern Corps, within a detention cell, Deputy Corps Leader Owen stared intently at Hal in front of him. However, Hal no longer spoke to him in an angry tone as before; instead, he spoke calmly:

“I imagine you must be angry now, feeling that I’ve obtained everything that you should have had. But I must tell you, anger won’t help.”

“Are you here to mock me?!” Owen yelled angrily, but he had been deprived of his Green Lantern ring and was powerless in the face of Hal’s intense green light.

“Stay calm. To some extent, I can understand you. Don’t you think the Green Lantern selection mechanism is somewhat unreasonable?”

Owen continued to stare at Hal coldly, but it was evident he was waiting for Hal’s next words.

Hal turned the ring on his hand and then said, “In my homeland, I wasn’t outstanding. Before receiving the ring, I was practically unknown, earning a meager salary while doing dangerous work.”

“In my homeland, there are many individuals more powerful than me. They are smarter, have more foresight, but just because of an intangible willpower, they were kept outside the door of this ‘strong power.'”

“I believe you might be in a similar situation, right?” Hal looked into Owen’s eyes. Owen turned his head away to avoid eye contact, but from the tightly pressed corners of his mouth, it was clear that Hal hit the mark.

“I assume that in your homeland, you were a standout. Educated well from a young age, quite talented, achieved significant accomplishments as you grew up, probably considering yourself a genius with exceptional intelligence. But the Green Lantern didn’t ‘choose’ you…”

“That’s enough!” Owen’s tone was suppressing anger, as if someone had touched upon a scar in his heart. He said, “If you came here to mock me, you’ve succeeded. So, can you just leave now?”

Hal crossed his arms, maintaining his calm demeanor, and said, “I’m not here to mock you from the perspective of a successful person. I want to tell you that I also find this unfair.”

“My homeland is in a remote area, but there are many geniuses there. They’re just excluded by these rigid rules. On the other hand, in certain prosperous sectors, more people can obtain this ‘strong power.’ I find that to be unjust.”

“If my homeworld could produce several Green Lanterns, maybe we would have already soared out of space. Since I’ve reached this position, why can’t I seek some benefits for myself and my homeland?”

Owen turned his head, looking into Hal’s eyes. He didn’t see any hint of jesting in Hal’s gaze. Suddenly, he gave a cold smile and said, “I knew it. All those who talk about justice are just wearing masks.”

“Thaal is the Corps Leader, and you’re the Deputy Corps Leader. Whom to please and whom to do business with, isn’t that clear enough? But similarly, who to do business with is equally clear.”

“What do you want?” Owen stared at Hal and asked.

“I’ve already said…” Hal leaned closer to Owen and then looked at him, saying, “No matter how we got to this position, we can unite and reclaim what’s rightfully ours.”

[Read atwww.patreon.com/shanefreak, without ads and support the work.]