Chapter 3919

On the presidential plane, Stark was closing his eyes to rest. In order not to be disturbed by the noise, he put on his headphones, which were playing the latest news reports in rotation:

"The Federal New Technology Scientific Research Center is the first research institution established since President Wei En took office, aiming to integrate new technologies that might emerge under the new system in the last ten years and the future, promoting comparison and mutual promotion, and considering the possibility of implementation at the first opportunity."

In President Wei En's recent speech at Columbia University, he pointed out that the existing American education system is already deeply entrenched, especially in higher education, where educational resources and research resources have long been controlled by the elite class, academic cliques and family-style scientific research project groups are repeatedly banned but never stopped, and young researchers have no upward mobility, further leading to the loss of high-precision industrial talent, which is completely detrimental to industrial reshoring."

"At the same time, Mr. President also stated that despite this, one cannot give up eating for fear of choking; if research project groups are dismantled on a large scale, it will be even more detrimental to scientific research development. Therefore, he established the New Technology Scientific Research Center and intends to tilt scientific research funding more toward young researchers who can develop new technologies and have new achievements in the next ten years. It is reported that many universities have already protested against this, believing that this is shaking the foundation of the Federation..."

Stark took off his headphones somewhat impatiently and muttered: "I've been doing scientific research for a lifetime, and now I've actually become a young researcher..."

Then he turned his head to look at Doom beside him, and seeing the other party throwing small snacks into his mouth in a leisurely manner, he became furious. He tried hard to support himself with the armrest to sit up straight, and with a wave of his arm, he almost hit the flight attendant beside him.

While apologizing, he lowered his voice and said: "That Batman brought us both over just to stuff us into an emerging, unknown scientific research organization? Nick even went to be the Director of the National Security Agency!"

"Batman did not invite you," Doom said.

"He didn't invite you either," Stark crossed his arms and said. "It was you who insisted on coming. And I'm worried that you'll blow up someone else's universe by doing some information flow research, causing us to lose face, which is why I came to watch you."

"Then if Doom is stuffed into an emerging, unknown scientific research organization, you should feel happy, because it is very likely that there is no equipment there that can support the experiment."

"But if you can't produce any results, wouldn't that be even more embarrassing?"

Doom believed: "Your anxiety disorder has still not improved; perhaps you can try changing a psychologist."

"Haha, it's just because my psychologist isn't around recently," Stark sighed and crossed his arms. "I don't know what the people in this universe are thinking, actually letting Batman be president. Aren't they afraid he'll change the name of the United States to USB?"

"Doom thinks this is a good idea, because it sounds like data transmission would be very smooth," Doom said.

"Forget it, there's already an electronic life form that can't be caught; if data transmission becomes even smoother, then we won't even be able to eat its exhaust."

The two were chatting, and the plane soon landed. When Stark walked out of the cabin door, he subconsciously put on his sunglasses, but when he walked down the stairs, he took them off again, because this damn Gotham had no sunlight at all; it was almost winter, and it was still drizzling today.

Stark took the umbrella from the bodyguard, and Doom, draped in a cloak, didn't need an umbrella at all. The two walked all the way to the special car, and as soon as he got on, Stark frowned.

"How come this car's engine seems..."

"It uses magic energy," Doom said. "It seems they aren't too short of energy here either."

"To guard against the electronic life form?" Stark unbuttoned his suit jacket and said. "One can never have too much magic energy. If that guy hadn't caused quite a mess here, Batman probably wouldn't have chosen to install a magic engine in an ordinary car."

"This is no ordinary car," the driver in front said. "This is the Batmobile."

"Oh, I see, all cars that pass through Batman's hands are Batmobiles," Stark snorted coldly. "Did he carve his beloved bat logo on the car engine? Is that engine also called a Bat-engine?"

"Yes, if you look closely at the seat back, you will find a pressed bat pattern underneath. This is the symbol of the Batmobile, sir."

Stark was actually a bit curious; he lowered his head and reached out to grope under the seat, touching some fine lines on the edge of the seat cover, but he couldn't distinguish whether it was a bat or not.

Just as he wanted to continue complaining, he looked up from this angle and saw the driver's pale jawline. The other party turned his head slightly, and the familiar profile showed a sharper outline in the cold light of the cloudy day, just like a fragment of the past that suddenly broke into his memory and filled a certain void. The moment he saw him, Stark knew that all his assumptions about Schiller's youth were inaccurate—this was Schiller's youth, without confusion, without indulgence; he had already completed self-exploration and was precisely dismantling this world like a sharp scalpel.

"Hello, Dr. Stark, I am Agent Rodriguez."

"I don't care who you are," Stark reached out a hand to make a blocking gesture, then said, "First of all, don't call me Doctor; that makes me sound like a mad scientist."

"Hello, Agent Rodriguez, or should Doom address you as Director?" Doom spoke up. "Actually, Doom quite likes the title of Doctor, because Doom knows very well that 'mad scientist' is not necessarily a derogatory term. On the path of exploring the world, everyone is mad. People with strong desires for knowledge and exploration are often more likely to change this world, aren't they?"

Stark pushed him aside, placed one hand on the back of the front passenger seat, leaned his head between the two front seats, and said: "Fine, call yourself whatever you want. So you're the Director of the Federal Bureau of Investigation that Batman mentioned?"

"Yes, to show welcome to our distinguished guests, Mr. President asked me to come and pick you up personally. Do you need me to introduce the New Technology Scientific Research Center to you?"

"I need you to introduce yourself to us more," Stark said. "I really can't imagine which Schiller could be the Director of the Federal Bureau of Investigation. Are you really the type of person to be an agent?"

"As you wish, Doctor. Although it might be a bit presumptuous to say so, I might indeed be the one most suitable to be an agent among all the Schillers. I neither spend a lot of time talking nonsense, nor do I spend most of my energy on how to make others increase their consultation fees by 30% every year; I don't have overly excited spirits or abundant energy, and I never create extra trouble. Because I am focused, I am efficient."

"Then you really should change your name," Stark couldn't help but say.

"Very good suggestion, Doctor, but I hope you consider your current situation before making suggestions."

"What?"

"You are sitting in a car, your safety awareness is so weak that you haven't fastened your seatbelt, and the steering wheel is in my hands."

As soon as he finished speaking, the car made a sharp turn, and with a bang, Stark's head hit the glass beside him directly, and his entire shoulder and half his arm hit the car door heavily. He let out a scream, subconsciously reaching to touch his head, and gasped in pain again.

"The medical kit is under the seat," Stark heard the Schiller in front say. "There are still 20 minutes before you meet Mr. President; if you want to meet him with that bump on your head, perhaps you can also give up bandaging."

Stark opened his mouth, but the insults reached his lips and were swallowed back. Indeed, he was in the car now, the other party held the steering wheel and his foot was on the gas, and he could give him another bump on his head at any time; it was better to talk less.

But if Stark were so easily subdued, he wouldn't be Stark. He rubbed his head messily with iodine, pressed it with an ice pack, and then said: "So you were also hired by President Batman? You work for him?"

"Usually, yes," Schiller said. "If you are asking what an agent usually does, I'm afraid I'll have to disappoint you; my work is far from as thrilling and exciting as in agent movies. My main work at present is to cooperate with Mr. President to promote his policies and solve all safety accidents that may occur."

"Sounds quite busy," Stark leaned back, put both hands behind his head, and his elbow almost hit Doom beside him again. He retracted it slightly and said, "Then what is the biggest thing you've done in this universe?"

"It must be shaking you into a tumble," Doom said.

Stark rolled his eyes and ignored him. Schiller, while driving, said: "Framing myself to force out the traces of the electronic life form, does that count?"

"Oh, I thought you were all very good at pulling off those universe-level big events," Stark curled his lips and said. "Of course, being a government lackey is also quite good, running to my company every day under various names to drink coffee and eat donuts, and then going back to speak ill of me. You are very good at this, right?"

"I don't like eating donuts."

"Then you just like drinking coffee?" Stark seemed to have suddenly caught Schiller's pigtail and said, "Standing next to the coffee machine, spending two hours choosing your favorite flavor, spending another three hours changing the milk carton, and then leaning on the counter next to the coffee machine while stirring the coffee with a spoon and complaining about work to colleagues, and a happy day just passes like that."

"You seem to have a deep prejudice against agents, Doctor. Does Mrs. Romanoff know about this?"

"You guess where my prejudice comes from?"

"So you really are quite familiar with her, then her prejudice against you is not without a target."

"Hiss..." Stark gasped in anger. Just as he was about to say something, he heard Schiller in front say:

"I heard you are known as the smartest person in your universe? Isn't that a coincidence? Some time ago, I gave the smartest person in this universe a shot with a sniper rifle, but unfortunately, God was on his side. Did you bring your mecha?"

Stark was shocked and said somewhat stutteringly: "N-no, didn't they say that electronic life forms might invade the mecha, so we shouldn't bring them?"

Schiller reached out and took a cigarette case from the passenger seat, but Stark saw a strap inadvertently brought between the two seats. Stark didn't know what that was and was just about to ask, when Doom elbowed him and pointed to the reflection of the windshield in front—a sniper rifle was lying on the passenger seat.

Stark shut up on the spot.

But how to say it, curiosity killed the cat. After a while, Stark started asking again: "Are you sure you are Schiller? Why do I feel you are completely different from other Schillers?"

"Oh? How am I different?"

"You... I mean, other Schillers wouldn't threaten me like this; they are all quite friendly to me."

"Including the me when I was a child?"

"Uh, that one wasn't very friendly, but he was a child, and you are an adult; there's no need to have such great hostility toward someone you're meeting for the first time, right?"

"Are you talking about yourself, Dr. Stark?"

"What do you mean?" Stark said somewhat dissatisfied. "Are you saying I have hostility toward you? Where did I have that?"

"Can you shut up?" Doom really couldn't watch anymore; he pushed Stark back to his original position and said, "There is an old Chinese saying: 'If you're sick, go get treated.' You really should give your psychologist a raise."