Chapter 764

In the grand hall of the Goth family estate, Lady Goth sighed in relief, pressing a hand to her chest as she said, "Thank goodness, Chief Gordon is reliable enough—his security consultant spotted the thief in time and kept her from wandering around my home."

"I've been saying all along that you're making a big deal out of nothing," Leon sat down on the sofa, lit a cigar, and said, "It's just a petty thief—how could he possibly threaten the Goth family? You're always so dramatic; how are we ever going to accomplish the Great King's grand mission?"

At the mention of this, Lady Goth sighed and sat down on the other end of the sofa, nervously saying, "I know, I know full well that His Majesty has great ambitions, but that shipyard contract… I mean, if it's discovered, we're all finished…"

"What are you afraid of?" Leon casually picked up a newspaper and fanned himself with it. "Who dares search your shipyard? Even the Godfather wouldn't do such a thing without proper justification…"

Lady Goth let out a slight breath of relief. "That's true—after all, even gangs have rules. If they just barged into my factory to search, they'd lose all credibility…"

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Leon sneered, holding deep contempt for Lady Goth's petty mindset. "You should devote everything to the Great King, not just cling to petty rewards. When he rules the world, only those who give the most will receive the greatest rewards!"

Lady Goth hesitated—when Leon first approached her, he only said he wanted to borrow her shipyard to build a few prohibited items—parts for heavy weapons—in exchange for a large sum of money and many valuable collectibles.

As rumors suggested, in the past few months, the Goth family had faced financial strain; after all, the snowstorm disrupted transportation, and every industry inevitably suffered a winter slump.

Though not critically dire, it would severely impact next season's revenue. Greedy and unwilling to let the family's cash flow dry up, Lady Goth happened to cross paths with Leon, who offered himself as a solution.

At first, Leon was excessively flattering, making Lady Goth feel euphoric—but as she became more deeply involved, his attitude shifted drastically, leaving her deeply dissatisfied yet too afraid to speak up.

After all, the rewards bestowed by the Great King proved he was a powerful, mysterious figure—those priceless collectibles weren't something money alone could buy. Lady Goth even suspected the Great King's family might be an ancient, reclusive lineage; otherwise, how could he possess so many legendary artifacts?

Knowing she was already on the wrong side of the law, Lady Goth clenched her teeth and said, "The project is nearly complete. Tomorrow, I'll arrange an accident to make the lead engineer vanish forever—and burn all the blueprints and project documents…"

Leon gave a helpless look. "Forget about your shipyard! Don't you think you could use that cat burglar, the Catwoman?"

"Catwoman?" Lady Goth frowned, then suddenly understood. "You mean… have her replace Vicki and help you charm the elite?"

"Exactly," Leon nodded, stood up, and walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, gazing outside. "Just now, when the police took her away, I observed her—she's absolutely stunning, far more beautiful than Vicki…"

"I know the people on the West Coast—they're powerless against women like her. If we can control her and have her whisper sweet nothings into the ears of the elite, the Great King's cause will advance far more smoothly…"

"But what if she won't submit to us?" Lady Goth frowned. "These Gotham thieves are all lawless…"

Leon snorted. "I don't believe she fears prison. I know these street rats too well—just give the police a little incentive to threaten her with guns, and she'll beg to agree to anything. If I go myself… hmm!"

Lady Goth was still hesitating, but Leon had already picked up the phone. In a second, his face transformed into a warm, smiling expression as he spoke into the receiver: "Hello? Gotham Police Department? Yes, I'm the recent victim…"

"... es, I just wanted to ask how the investigation into that thief is going? Lady Goth is furious—she demands the harshest punishment for this criminal. We'd like to meet in person. Great, I'll head to the Gotham Police Station right away!"

Leon hung up and turned to Lady Goth. "Take care of the shipyard matters. I'm going to the police station. When I return, everything will be back on track."

Watching Leon leave, Lady Goth gritted her teeth and picked up the phone. "Connect me with that truck driver… Yes, the one everyone's whispering about—the Midnight Joker Truck Driver. Have him cause an accident—preferably crush that engineer into pulp!"

After hanging up, Lady Goth's hands trembled. Though she'd spent years in business, she'd never hired a hitman before. Yet she also felt a wave of relief—once the man was dead, the deal would vanish forever.

Lady Goth felt everything had been progressing smoothly lately.

Though the plan to control Vicki had failed, a perfect replacement had appeared—the Catwoman. Her daughter's progress was also going well; she'd already made contact with Bruce Wayne. Soon, she might capture his attention. If she could just finalize the shipyard deal, perhaps she truly could wield unimaginable power alongside the Great King.

Early the next morning, Schiller rose promptly, devoured breakfast at lightning speed, skipped reading the paper, and before Merkel could react, he'd already donned his coat, grabbed his umbrella, and was heading out the door.

Merkel stared, bewildered, at Schiller's hurried departure, then glanced at the wall clock—it was only 6: 0 a. .

Ignoring Merkel's renewed shock at his bizarre schedule, Schiller drove to Gotham University—specifically, its Continuing Education College.

Victor happened to be delivering supplies there and was stunned to see Schiller. He approached and asked, "Why are you here so early? What's with the sudden wake-up call?"

"Forget it—where are the students?"

"Of course they're in their dorms—it's still too early for them to be up," Victor said, glancing at the dormitory building, where most lights remained dark.

Schiller strode into the dormitory. Victor followed, watching as Schiller held his umbrella in one hand and snapped his fingers—*click*—a glowing halo appeared above his head.

In Victor's stunned gaze, Schiller grabbed the halo.

Then he began banging loudly on each dorm room door.

"Wake up! Wake up! What time is it? Get to class!"

"Gather in the big lecture hall—don't let me catch anyone missing!"

！"

"Get up! It's daylight!"

Schiller waved the halo, flooding the dorm with blinding light. Students squinted, dazed and confused, as Schiller pointed at each bed. "Get up! No more sleeping in—gathering in the lecture hall!"

"Bang! Bang! Bang! Wake up! Wake up! Get up! Look at the time!"

"Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!"

"Get up!"

！"

Only after rousing every student on both floors did Schiller stride down the stairs, umbrella in hand. Victor chased after him. "Schiller, what the hell are you doing?"

Schiller ignored him, marched straight to the large lecture hall, stood at the podium, and checked his watch. "Record everyone who isn't here by 7 a. . Tonight, I'll personally visit the leaders of their neighborhoods."

Victor stared, wide-eyed—but Schiller's morning raid had been devastatingly effective. That halo was blindingly bright; most students had been jolted awake. Recalling Schiller's fearsome reputation, they scrambled out of bed and rushed to class.

Though everyone was groggy and slumped over, they'd all shown up. But since the alarm was so sudden, many hadn't reacted in time. When the 7 a. . bell rang, only about two-thirds of the students had arrived.

Schiller took the student roster from a teacher who'd just arrived and cross-referenced names with photos to note the absentees. By 7: 0, the latecomers shuffled in, bleary-eyed and yawning, slumping into their seats.

When everyone was finally seated, Schiller tapped the podium lightly, drawing all attention. Several students who'd already shaken off sleep sat up straight—they'd heard of this professor's legend but had never attended his class, and now they were curious what he'd say.

"Today, we'll discuss attitude toward learning," Schiller said, facing the class.

"Perhaps you think I've lost my mind—dragging you out of bed at 6 a. . to talk about something so pointless."

"Yes, many will think this is meaningless—you're here to learn technical skills. You should be studying car mechanics, wiring layouts, or practicing hands-on…"

"But unfortunately, I must tell you that during these past two days of observation, I've noticed a serious problem: some of you have deeply flawed attitudes toward learning."

Schiller's tone was grim. The students in the front row shivered, glancing nervously at one another, wondering who had been caught.

A Black girl with multiple ear piercings glanced at a girl seated diagonally ahead—a girl with pale blonde hair, wearing a dress that stood out starkly from the rest, now fast asleep with her head on the desk.

Nearby, several burly Ma Lei students exchanged glances, silently signaling toward her.

"Tracy Goth," Schiller called out directly. The girl on the desk didn't stir.

Seeing Schiller's expression, the girl beside her quickly shook Tracy awake. Blinking in confusion, Tracy looked up—and the moment her eyes met Schiller's, it was like ice water poured over her head. She snapped fully awake.

"Miss Goth, answer me this: Why are you here?"

"I—I'm here to study," Tracy replied, dazed.

"Really? Are you truly here to learn?" Schiller repeated, locking eyes with her—classic interrogation technique.

Tracy fell silent, then muttered, "... guess."

"Let me be clear: you're not here to learn. Your mother sent you here for another purpose."

Last night, Schiller had visited the Goth estate—he knew Lady Goth had a secret plan, and her daughter was part of it.

Schiller's voice turned icy as he stared at Tracy's flushed face. "But I don't care about your purpose. As long as you're here, your only job is to devote yourself fully to great learning."

Schiller's voice grew cold as he looked at Tracy's flushed face and spoke in a low tone:

"But I don't care about your intentions; as long as you're here, there's only one thing you can do: devote yourself to great learning."