Days as a Spiritual Mentor in American Comics-Chapter 4533 - 3616: Edge of Tomorrow (25)

Because he needed to reteach the basic course, Shiller had to dig out the lesson plans from a long time ago. But he had basically forgotten the content on them, and some theories now seemed a bit outdated, so he was busy revising the lesson plans recently.

In addition, his PhD and graduate students seemed to have realized that their theses had been dragging on for too long, so they finally came to their senses. Recently, they've sent him quite a few versions with significant changes. Even though graduation still seemed hopeless, Shiller had to seriously reply, even if it was just a facade.

Because he was seriously working, Brainiac didn't give him any trouble. However, the consecutive days of work had greatly increased Shiller's stress. He felt that if he continued working this way, when the freshmen arrived, they would be facing an unprecedented storm.

Just then, a phone call from Harley saved him. freёnovelkiss.com

"Hello? Professor? There's a meeting of the Tomorrow Alliance tonight, are you coming?"

"Of course." Shiller quickly shut down the computer and said, "No need to wait until tonight, I'm heading over now."

After saying that, ignoring Brainiac's shouts, Shiller quickly left the house and drove to the mansion by the Gotham River.

Unexpectedly, even so, he was considered late. By the time he got there, most people had already arrived. Harley, the organizer, hadn't come yet, but Scarecrow, Mr. Freeze, Joker, Killer Croc, and others were all there.

With such enthusiasm, Harley might be the most impressive Harley Quinn in the entire Multiverse.

As soon as Shiller walked in, he heard Jonathan complaining, "Oh God, why do I have to teach the basic course in Psychology too?! You guys don't know how angry the students got Shiller back then..."

He was just saying this when he turned his head and saw Shiller. Jonathan's face froze. But Shiller didn't refute, he sat down by the round table and said, "Aren't you supposed to be a professor in the Chemistry department?"

"Yes, and I also have to teach a basic Chemistry course." Jonathan pulled at his hair forcefully and said, "And just because I haven't published a paper in two years, that damn AI is insisting I write a paper on fear gas techniques! Is that something you can publish?!"

Victor didn't seem very energetic either, sitting dozing on a chair against the wall. Upon seeing Shiller, he yawned and tried hard to open his eyes and said, "I've pulled two all-nighters in the lab, and later I still have to tutor Billy with his homework..."

Shiller then turned to Killer Croc. It was hard to tell his mood from his scaly face, as he absentmindedly played with the cards in his hand.

"My company recently hired a lot of newcomers, and I'm busy training them. Brainiac got me quite a few good gigs, moving, transporting, renovating—I'm so busy that I'm hardly touching the ground. I've already discarded several business cards to make time to come over."

"Don't look at me." Jack said, "Yesterday, I ran back and forth from the dock to West Suburban Park six times, and two tires blew out before I could replace them. Brainiac insists on playing his crappy pep-up music in the car..."

Shiller originally thought he was already pretty tired, but after hearing about their situations, he felt his job was actually quite easy. At least most of the time he was in the office looking at a computer. Pure brainwork, albeit slightly dull and tedious, was still better than working in a factory or a lab.

Brainiac found a job for everyone. But he didn't exploit them endlessly; instead, he arranged tasks up to the limit that the human body and physiology could bear, all while offering incentives to draw out people's potential, making them feel, "I'm already here, might as well earn a bit more."

It indeed was tiring, but the benefits promised were indeed attainable, and the sense of achievement from the work was ample, basically reaching the ideal working state in human imagination.

But looking at it another way, the ideal working state in human imagination is not to work, so even though everyone could endure, they very much needed some leisure time for loafing around.

However, Brainiac was indeed advanced, making slacking off in front of him almost impossible without a reasonable excuse. This is why Harley's phone call prompted everyone to gather at the fastest speed, ready and raring to go.

The last time such a scene occurred was when criminals from another universe's Arkham Asylum broke out to take on Batman.

One can only say that every era has its own Batman.

Soon, Two-Face Harvey also arrived. He seemed to be the most energetic of them all. Shiller didn't even have to guess, he knew that Harvey's first words would definitely be "Christine."

"Christine invited me to a play tonight, so I can only stay for half an hour. If there's anything to discuss, let's do it quickly, don't interrupt my date." Harvey said while looking at his watch.

He immediately paid for those words by having to raise his arms to block the flying cookies, card packaging, decorative dried flowers, and dice thrown at him.

"Hey... hey! You're just jealous!" Harvey shouted while waving his hands.

"Stop talking so much, let's play a couple of rounds." Shiller had already started shuffling the deck and said, "I can't believe I haven't played cards for a whole week. Who's dealing?"

Jack rolled up his sleeves and said, "I'll do it, first deal usually brings good luck."

"You're taking the bullet position?" Victor asked Shiller, glancing at him, "I remember you never won sitting in the bullet position."

"I've never won sitting anywhere else either, so here goes."

The few of them settled in and started dealing the cards. As soon as Shiller turned over his cards, he saw a line of text appear on the phone sitting on the edge of the table:

"Oh God, your luck is really bad, Professor. I suggest you quit this game and go back to reading papers."

Shiller slapped the phone shut.

As expected, he lost this round. Although Shiller's card skills aren't top-notch, he's quite good at calculations and can roughly figure out others' cards through observation. But his luck is just too bad; how can you win with a hand of scattered cards?

"You sit out." Shiller waved to Jack and said, "Let Brainiac deal the cards; maybe artificial intelligence can change my luck."

Pamela and Deathstroke, who arrived later, also joined the game. So when Harley arrived, she saw a group of people gathered around the table playing cards.

"What are you doing, what are you doing!" Harley slammed the table and shouted, "We're the Villain Alliance, not a senior citizens club! No playing cards!"

"That's right, playing cards is truly a waste of time!" Brainiac chimed in.

Ten minutes later, Harley threw the cards in her hand onto the table with a slap and, with hands on her hips, said, "I have a big Ace Straight Flush, how can you beat that?!"

Shiller, slightly helpless, tossed his full house onto the table. Originally, he had drawn quite well, but he hit a rookie protection phase. Harley's cards were getting higher and higher; in these few rounds, she swept the table, and the chips were almost piling up like a mountain.

"Ah!" Harley suddenly exclaimed and looked down at her watch, saying, "Heavens, how many rounds have we played? It's already 10:30!"

"I have reminded you many times," Brainiac said, "At 9:00, you said one more game, and at 10:00, you still said one more game. Aren't you going for another one?"

"Forget it; it's too late today." Harley said, "Let's call it a night."

"Are you forgetting something?" Shiller emptied the ice cubes from his cup and said, "Did you call us here just to play cards?"

"Oh, no!" Harley patted her head and said, "All your fault, I said no more, no more, yet you pulled me in, and I almost forgot the real business."

She cleared her throat, stood on her chair, waved her hand, and said, "Look at me! Everyone look at me! Stop counting the chips, what's the point of counting that money?!"

"I announce, our Tomorrow Alliance has received its first contract! Applaud!!!"

The people by the table cooperatively started clapping. Harley stood proudly, looked around, and nodded to those below her from time to time. Soon, she made an ending gesture and said:

"Although we're villains, there should still be basic professional ethics, so I can't disclose the client's information here..."

"The client is me," Brainiac said, "There's a group on Diamond Street secretly plotting a terror attack to overthrow my rule, and I hope you can help me eliminate them."

Harley furiously slammed her phone onto the ground.

It took her a while to remember that the phone was hers, so she had to jump down to pick it up. After picking it up, she blew off the dust and said, "Alright, you damned guy, you better have your reward ready, or I'll throw you into the sewage pool..."

"If the task is completed, everyone gets a three-day vacation."

In an instant, the applause was several times more enthusiastic than before.

Shiller couldn't help but admit, Brainiac indeed mastered the art of human nature to perfection.

Speaking of money, actually, nobody here is so desperate for money that they'd trade their life for it. Even if they don't earn extra, they might be a bit tight, but not so much that they can't afford to eat.

Moreover, they're not the type of people who are obsessed with wealth; as long as they have enough to spend, the remaining time is used to exert their self-value and seek spiritual fulfillment.

So if Brainiac offered a high price, probably not many would be interested. But if he gave a vacation, and not just any, but a three-day vacation without any disturbances, anyone who's overwhelmed with work would be tempted. Shiller was no exception.

"Alright," Harley raised her hand and said, "Deathstroke is a professional killer, next, let him share his opinions."

Deathstroke, while loading bullets into his gun, said, "The answer is in the question, dear Miss; you've already said it—I am a professional killer."

His glove brushed over the gun barrel, making a crisp "click" when loading. Deathstroke raised the gun, his eye close to the sight.

With a "bang," the bullet flew out from the muzzle, slicing through the air as it spun straight into the man's forehead. Blood and brain matter erupted like a volcanic explosion.

His face filled with terror, eyes wide open, the man fell slowly like a tree sawed deeply.

"Ahhhhhhh!!!!"

Screams tore through the sky over Diamond Street.