Chapter 3924

"Theoretically, all emails sent by the electronic life form cannot be replied to. The email address is incorrect, and the replied information naturally sinks into the sea. But this is actually just standing from a human perspective. For an electronic life form that can roam the internet, whether the email is really sent anywhere is not important; even if you reply in the input field, perhaps it can see it."

Schiller stood in front of the whiteboard, tapped the whiteboard with a pen and said: "So what you have to do is reply to its information. You don't need to have very profound flirting skills; just say something, as long as it feels that you are replying."

"I just want to know, if as you said, it harassed so many red-haired women, didn't anyone reply to it?" Lena was obviously somewhat puzzled.

"It just happened to harass some people who wouldn't respond to harassment at all," Schiller said. "This is a paradox. It didn't want a love brain when choosing targets. But people who aren't love brains wouldn't easily fall in love with others. Even if the electronic life form plays the plot of a hero saving a beauty, the other party can think calmly, detect that this might be a conspiracy, and stay far away. Such things have already happened."

"Then if I take the initiative to reply to it, will it make it feel that I don't meet its standards?"

"That's why I said, don't flirt with it. You can completely start from the perspective of interests and demand cooperation with it. Considering your current situation, this demand is also legitimate."

"Are you talking about the conflict between me and my brother? But actually, our original relationship wasn't that good either. He can't do anything to me."

"Then make the relationship worse," Schiller said. "I don't believe Lex Luthor is a very tolerant person. His desire for control can't be completely poured on you either. You don't like his control, but you don't have the ability to break free. Perhaps you once pinned your hopes on Batman, it's just that he is currently unable to protect himself. You can take this opportunity to let the electronic life form help you break free from the sea of misery."

Lena shook her head and said: "I pinned my hopes on Batman because I know Batman is a truly good person. Of course, Superman is too, but he has suffered losses in my brother's hands, not as hopeful as Batman. But an electronic life form that isn't even human? Then I'd rather choose to love and love with my brother."

"I'm just saying you can use this as an excuse, so that you can have topics to chat about. As for how to express your sincerity specifically, I shouldn't need to teach you."

"Will it really respond to me?" Lena felt puzzled. "I mean, can it really understand such complex emotions? What does it rely on to judge my feelings for my brother?"

"Perhaps it doesn't understand, but it won't admit it doesn't understand," Schiller smiled and said. "Everything it does to target women is to show that it is an electronic life form with human touch. For example, saving people, for example, guiding others' emotions. It wants to disguise itself as such, naturally it won't show weakness here."

Seeing Lena's expression still somewhat skeptical, Schiller continued: "Do you know how to make others unable to leave you?"

"How?"

"First make yourself unable to leave him."

Lena widened her eyes slightly; she seemed to be hearing such an argument for the first time. Schiller continued: "Treating him as your responsibility will only make people feel your desire for control is overflowing; while turning yourself into his responsibility, the other party will mostly work hard without complaint."

"Sounds like you have quite a bit of experience."

"Now is not the time to discuss my private life," Schiller tapped the whiteboard again and said. "So, put yourself into a crisis, and then ask it for help; you will mostly get a response. You can take this opportunity to communicate; maybe you can really develop some feelings."

"A person without true love won't have much fake affection either," Lena said. "I can only say I will try my best. But if it doesn't work, you have to be responsible for solving the trouble between me and my brother—not referring to solving the two of us."

"No problem, but first we have to create trouble between you two."

"I will solve this myself."

"What do you plan to do?"

"There are two plans," Lena paused and said. "Plan one, I find a killer to assassinate him; plan two, I tell him I fell in love with Superman and am preparing to marry him."

"Choose the first one," Schiller didn't hesitate for half a second and said. "If you choose the second one, the electronic life form won't be able to save you either."

Lena rolled her eyes slightly. Schiller continued: "Anyway, you are going to hire a killer, so I might as well go. At least I won't be bought by the electronic life form, and I can help you save a commission."

"Think clearly, my brother is very smart. He can completely recognize it's you from your technique. The first assassination can be called a strategy, but the second time, you will have offended him to death."

Schiller shook his head slowly and said: "The first assassination, I have to consider whether I will offend the target; the second assassination, the target has to consider where he offended me."

Lena sighed and said: "How come I haven't heard of a character like you before?"

"Precisely because you didn't know, my sudden appearance has a surprising effect. Just treat it as Batman's backup."

"Then I didn't trust the wrong person," Lena stood up and said. "Hit hard, otherwise if he doesn't come to find trouble with me, I'll have to find a way to pretend to fall in love with Superman. I don't want to be the third party."

After Lena left, Schiller stood in place and thought for a while, then called his assistant and said: "Prepare for the trip to Metropolis, and help me contact the editor-in-chief of the Daily Planet."

Early the next morning, Schiller walked up the steps of the Daily Planet office, shook hands with the editor-in-chief at the door and said: "Good morning, Mr. Editor-in-Chief."

After the two entered the room and sat down, Schiller drank some coffee and said: "Actually, it's nothing big. It's just that Mr. President wants to guide the financial trend on the East Coast. Mr. Luthor's policy reserve fund has attracted many financial figures; if we can interview him and complete an interview article on his relevant economic views, I think it will be helpful."

The editor-in-chief was a middle-aged man with a mustache; he was full of smiles and nodded: "Of course, it is our honor to serve Mr. President. However, the Daily Planet is not a specialized financial publication, and we indeed don't have relevant professional reporters."

"No, no, no," Schiller shook his head and said. "Don't let professional reporters do this; otherwise, wouldn't we just go find the Financial Times?"

The editor-in-chief revealed a look of realization and said: "It seems you are looking for those unprofessional professionals."

"Right, the more unprofessional the professionals, the better," Schiller nodded and said. "It's best if they know nothing about finance, but have some understanding of people's livelihood. You know, they like to say things like 'revealing the truth is the journalist's vocation', 'the media's responsibility is to speak for the people', and so on, full of kindness, fearless of death, and always saving some kittens and puppies."

The editor-in-chief's smile deepened as he listened, and he said: "Understood, we happen to have such a professional; he definitely won't disappoint you."

"However..." the other party changed the subject and said, "If he writes some plain talk and offends the Luthor Group, the Daily Planet might not be easy to do either."

"You can rest assured about this; Mr. President doesn't have the habit of letting his own people suffer losses," Schiller pressed his body forward and deliberately lowered his voice. "A smart general will never treat his bugler badly."

A flash of light appeared in the other party's eyes, but he still said: "If it's only us, this bugle call won't be loud enough."

Schiller smiled and said: "Although the location of your newspaper is not bad, it really can't compare to the Stagg Group. When I came from there, I happened to pass the most congested section of the road. But speaking of which, Fifth Avenue is really a good place; unfortunately, you can't buy land there even with money."

The editor-in-chief smiled and said: "Yes, unless there is special approval."

Schiller didn't stay long at the Daily Planet. After he left, the editor-in-chief's expression gradually turned cold, then he cursed, twisted his mustache, but didn't dare to say much, just muttering: "Go call Kent for me! It's really cheap for him!"

Soon, a tall and handsome young man appeared in the editor-in-chief's office. He was holding a camera, his forehead was a bit sweaty, and he looked at the editor-in-chief and asked: "What's wrong?"

"The broken article you wrote last week is completely unusable," the editor-in-chief said coldly. "Originally, I was going to deduct your salary, but I also know you have a girlfriend, and it's just the time when you need money. Now there is a good opportunity; if you grasp it, I will give you a 30% raise."

The young man widened his eyes slightly and said: "What opportunity? It wouldn't be going to flatter those government officials again, right?"

"Have you heard of the Luthor Group? Forget it, even if you are a bumpkin from a small town, it's impossible you haven't heard of this. But you definitely don't know they recently set up some policy reserve fund. We are preparing to arrange an exclusive interview for you; you must flatter Alexander Luthor and his fund well."

The young man frowned deeply. The editor-in-chief waved his hand at him and said: "If you can't write an article that satisfies me, just get out!"

The other party shook his head stubbornly and said: "I will only present the interview report truthfully and make objective judgments on the pros and cons; I won't talk nonsense with my eyes open like those people."

"A bumpkin is a bumpkin; if it weren't for the fact that there's really no one to use, I wouldn't let you go and lose this face. Go back and prepare to buy some decent clothes; there will be a car coming to pick you up tomorrow afternoon!"

The young man walked away angrily.

At noon, Lex Luthor stood in his office looking at the submitted materials and said: "The Daily Planet wants to interview about the policy reserve fund? They aren't the Financial Times; what kind of wind is this?"

"Yes, so my opinion is also not to accept the interview. They are mostly bought by someone." The assistant said very calmly.

"Wait a minute, Daily Planet..." Luthor read the name and said, "Does this newspaper have a reporter named Clark Kent?"

"You know him? He is the reporter arranged by the Daily Planet to interview you. However, he is just a little-known reporter; I think this newspaper doesn't have any professionals either, so they just sent someone casually. So it's best not to..."

"Arrange the time," Luthor looked at his watch and said. "Tomorrow afternoon, I will accept the interview in the office. Let that Kent come over... no, send a car to pick him up."

The assistant was puzzled, but still nodded.

The next afternoon, Clark Kent, wearing a slightly tight suit and glasses, walked into the Luthor Building, followed the assistant's footsteps, and appeared at the door of Luthor's office.

Knock, knock, knock. The office door was knocked.

"Come in." Luthor's deep voice echoed.

The door was pushed open. Luthor, also in a suit and leather shoes, turned from the window. When he saw that handsome face that hadn't been changed or covered in any way, he was stunned.

"Hello, Mr. Luthor." The other party nodded lightly, keeping his eyes down all the time, not looking at people directly at all, showing a restraint and shyness completely different from Superman. Then he suddenly raised his eyes, facing the light from the floor-to-ceiling window, and those eyes were as blue as the sky and the sea.

In a second of daze, time seemed to suddenly slow down. The glass fragments broken by the sniper bullet cut Luthor's face, also reflecting his shocked expression. Suddenly, a strong wind swept past his ears, and a hand, less than an inch away from his temple, crushed the sharp sniper bullet, which was like a knife, into fragments.

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