Chapter 4323

"Hello? Lois? Did you see the email I sent you? What do you think of this topic?"

Sitting at the desk in the hotel room, Clark pushed his glasses, clamped the phone with the other ear, and continued to write the manuscript on the computer.

"You also think it's not bad? That's great! Yes, that's what I thought too. It would be great if I could help someone by the way."

"Is that so? You say, I'm listening... You say that, it really seems so. Just asking questions isn't deep enough; you still have to experience it personally. However, my appearance..."

Clark showed a difficult expression and said: "I'm not bragging, but to say I'm an illegal immigrant is a bit far-fetched. Besides, I don't speak Spanish either."

"Find an undercover agent? That's a good idea. Don't say, I really left my business card to two illegal immigrants... No way?" Clark frowned, changed the phone to the other side, and said, "It shouldn't be that they will rely on me just by being an undercover agent once, right?"

"Okay, you make sense; I really can't contact them directly. It would be troublesome if they wanted to blackmail me or slander me..."

"What?! So dangerous? Three have already gone missing? My God. Okay, you make sense. I'll consider it carefully."

After hanging up the phone, Clark sighed long; this matter really wasn't as simple as he thought. He had just shared the draft he wrote with Lois. Lois expressed affirmation of his topic, but also pointed out that his investigation wasn't deep enough.

Clark also felt it was like this. Investigative reporter, investigative reporter, is to investigate personally. Just asking a few questions, the interview reporter can also do it.

But with his image, it was impossible to get a black work job. It was said before that because he had super defense, he had worked on the Kent farm for more than ten years, and still didn't leave any traces of labor. This kind of person looks like he is visiting incognito at a glance, and no boss will accept him.

Therefore, the best way is to find an undercover agent: find two people who are doing black work, give them some money, and then let them record some videos, recording some real events.

But Lois emphasized to him specifically not to show his face himself. Because this might be a very dangerous thing.

Not to mention that this group of people would open their mouths like lions to blackmail, many investigative reporters who go missing every year are those who go missing when they go undercover. Every piece of land has local snakes, and the black work group must have them too; if they are targeted, it will be troublesome.

Clark wasn't worried about them engaging in physical attacks, but it was disgusting: if this group of people was sincere about messing with him, they could completely bite back in public opinion, slander his report as untrue, or forge evidence and manufacture rumors.

Therefore, Clark felt that it was best for him not to show his face. But finding a middleman is also troublesome. The most ridiculous thing is: finding a sugar daddy has a professional middleman to sign a contract, but there is none for dark investigation.

Clark thought about it, but couldn't think of who to find. People like Diana are laymen, and they can't handle those local snakes even more. Colonel Jones might be able to do it, but it's a bit of a waste of talent, and it's not easy to bother others.

Thinking about it, he was too lazy to think about it, and it happened to be sunset again. Clark put on his sports jacket and prepared to go out for a few more laps.

Running and running, he approached the beach. The sunset on the beach was even more beautiful, and Clark stopped to watch. Even though he had used glasses and other items to disguise his appearance, he had been standing here for less than 10 minutes, and probably more than 100 people came to strike up a conversation. Clark couldn't stand it, so he found a bar next to him, ordered a drink, and sat down.

Clark took a sip of wine, and then sighed again. This wine didn't have the hot feeling he had drunk before. It turned out that he would get drunk, still because of the green gem powder.

No method was thought of, and the wine was getting less and less flavorful. Clark felt extremely bored and prepared to go back to rest. Just at this time, a figure sat next to him and placed a small bag of powder by his hand.

"Do you want some of this?"

"No." Clark refused somewhat disdainfully. He was very disgusted with drugs. He could eat these human drugs by the pound and have no reaction.

Just about to get up and leave, Clark caught a glimpse of the fact that this small bag of powder was actually green.

He looked up and saw Schiller smiling at him.

Clark jumped up in place, almost getting stuck on the ceiling. When he landed, he said unpleasantly: "How can you be here?!!!"

"I opened the bar." Schiller said.

"You put gem powder in my wine that day?!"

Schiller nodded.

"You... when did you put it?"

Schiller patted his shoulder and pointed in a direction with his hand. Clark looked in that direction, but saw nothing.

"I opened this whole street."

Clark widened his eyes.

"I told you long ago, I do some small business." Schiller shrugged.

Clark was speechless. He sighed and sat down anyway. Mainly because he was afraid that if he didn't stay, Schiller would chase him to his house, and then tell him that the hotel was also opened by him. This life really couldn't be lived.

"However, I didn't have any industry in the United States before." Schiller smiled and said, "I have to thank you for being able to develop so well."

"What do you mean?"

"I bought the bottom when the Luthor Group's stock plummeted."

Clark's fists were truly clenched. Fortunately, he had made great progress in emotional control. Enduring his temper, he showed a fake smile and said: "This isn't thanks to me, this is thanks to you."

"If you also bought the bottom, you could say that. Unfortunately, you didn't. Actually, I'm also very strange, why didn't you buy it?"

"I... I..."

Clark suddenly remembered that he also saw the news of the Luthor Group's stock plummeting at the time. Why didn't he buy it?!

"Okay, it's all in the past." Schiller said, "Do you want some of this?"

"Where did you get so many gems???"

"This isn't a gem." Schiller shook his head and said, "This thing is called Kryptonite, specifically designed to restrain Kryptonians."

"What?!"

"You have to ask Batman for the specifics; I can't explain it to you. Okay, let's talk about business; I heard you encountered some trouble."

Clark had a stomach full of questions to ask, but as soon as he thought of the problem he was facing now, he decided to solve the problem in front of him first. He took a sip of wine and said: "To tell you the truth, I want to investigate illegal immigration. But the water here is very deep, and I don't know what to do."

"This is easy to handle, how do you want to investigate?"

"Um... I want to find two undercover agents. Actually, I have already contacted people, but I think it's better not to show up myself. I want to find a middleman."

"I can help you." Schiller said, "However, you have to promise me to cooperate with the expert for desensitization training."

"Why on earth do you insist on me..."

"I said, this thing restrains you."

"That is to say, it can't help me increase my strength?"

"It can, as long as you aren't restrained by it, isn't that increasing your strength?"

Clark was about to be dizzy by him. He wanted to continue asking, but then heard Schiller say: "Most Supermen are restrained by it."

Clark opened his mouth wide and looked at Schiller with some surprise. Schiller nodded and said: "I said, this thing specifically restrains Kryptonians; aren't you all Kryptonians?"

"To tell you the truth, the multiverse might encounter a dark crisis. This isn't the small trouble before, but real knives and guns. Superheroes will all gather for this. The opponent might be very cunning and will use everything to defeat you, including this thing."

Schiller took out another piece of Kryptonite. Clark hesitated for a long time and then asked: "So, you want me to..."

"There must be a Superman who can stand up at the critical moment. I think you can." Schiller looked at him and said, "Because you are the Batman among Supermen."

"What?"

"Perhaps you have also discovered that your counterparts are not the same as you in personality. They trust and rely on Batman very much. However, you can't let Batman solve everything, right?"

Clark nodded frequently. In fact, he had already admitted that Bruce was indeed very charming, but he still didn't agree with the attitude of other Supermen: if there is something, just go ask Batman, go find Batman, listen to what the magical Batman says.

Pushing all responsibility to one person is an irresponsible performance. Moreover, no matter how smart and charming Bruce is, he can't solve all problems. Superman must be self-reliant.

As soon as he thought this way, he felt that Schiller's words made sense. If it were said that independent Supermen like him were the minority in the multiverse, then if something happened in the future, someone would take this green gem to persecute Superman, and everyone would cry and find Batman, would that be appropriate?

The more he thought about it, the more he felt it was outrageous, and Clark said: "They are a bit unreasonable; I must talk to them. Can't rely on Batman for everything; we aren't worse than them."

"Ambitious." Schiller praised. He took the drink adjusted by the bartender, added that kind of powder into it, and handed it to Clark. Clark glanced at it, a bit disgusted, but still took it and took a sip.

It was that familiar hot feeling again. However, this time there was no very serious dizziness. He took two more sips. Clark took a deep breath and said: "I think you are right. I... I really have to practice this. In case something happens in the future, I can still save them..."

"Just rest assured and cooperate with the training. Leave the matter of finding a middleman to me. After all, I am a businessman, and I have some connections with all kinds of people. You can rest assured if you leave it to me."

"Good... good..."

When Clark woke up again, he found that he was already in the hotel. He looked at his watch, and it was already noon the next day. He didn't even remember how much he drank yesterday.

Now his head still hurt a bit, but it was indeed much better than the first day. It was a bit dizzy when he stood up, but he could act freely. Clark felt that he wasn't far from desensitization.

He swayed to the computer, and found the email Schiller sent him, asking him to meet at a certain coffee shop at two o'clock in the afternoon. Clark hummed in his heart: Schiller doing things efficiently also had benefits; he thought he would only pit him.

As a result, when he came to the coffee shop they agreed on, he found Schiller sitting there again. Clark also sat down, and the two stared at each other. Clark looked at him and said: "Where is the middleman?"

"Isn't he already sitting here." Schiller drank coffee.

"You don't mean it's you, right?"

"Is there any problem?" Schiller spread his hands and said, "I am a businessman; I know how to handle those difficult opponents. It is most appropriate for me to be the middleman, isn't it?"

"Don't mention anything else, how do you charge?" Clark was very vigilant.

"Don't worry, I'm not the type who only cares about money." Schiller smiled at him.

"Yes, it's just that you almost took the lives of all of us."