The car drove to Shiller's own house. As soon as he arrived on Mars, Hunter Ron also arrived, and before he could ask, Shiller transmitted all the information in his mind.
"Damn it!" Ron cursed, "These damn bastards really dare to do this?!"
"I should have thought of it sooner." Shiller said, "I need you to stay here for a while and protect Barry's family. I have some other things to do."
"Don't worry, leave it to me." Ron nodded and said, "If there are others who need protection, you can send them over, I guarantee they'll be fine."
"That would be even better." Shiller nodded and said.
When he killed earlier, blood got on him. Shiller went back to freshen up, changed into a new set of clothes, and then said to Victor who was waiting at the door: "We need to go to Wayne Manor."
"They dare to make a move on the people at Wayne Manor?"
"What's there to be afraid of? Selina and Aisha seem like the easiest targets. Although I think they can handle the trouble themselves, they clearly lack experience in cleaning up the mess. We need to help them."
When the car reached Wayne Manor's entrance, from a distance, Shiller could hear Selina's cursing voice.
Alfred opened the manor's gate, asked nothing, and led them to the backyard. Sure enough, two male corpses were lying on the ground.
"These sons of bitches actually dared to..." Selina had just started when her keen hearing noticed Shiller's arrival. She turned around and felt relieved the moment she saw him.
"Just in time, Professor. Someone tried to attack Aisha and me on our way home, and I took them down. But I don't know what to do with these things—this is not the East District." Selina looked slightly troubled at the corpses on the ground.
Shiller went over, turned them both over, checked their teeth and fingers, and said: "Addicts and thugs."
"Probably the people they hired." Victor said.
"Who do you think it was?"
"Isn't it those guys from Diamond Street?"
"It could also be Brainiac." Shiller stood up, squinting and said, "He's best at creating a motive for others, then muddying the waters to expand the situation."
"Let's not talk about this now." Shiller continued, "Alfred, find two pieces of plastic sheet, wrap them up, and put them in the trunk of my car. I'll handle it. Where's Aisha?"
"She's upstairs doing homework. I know what you're going to ask; she won't be scared by something this small."
Shiller nodded, took the rain cover plastic sheet from Alfred, wrapped the two corpses, tied them up with rope, and put them in the trunk.
After getting in the car, Victor looked at the direction he was driving and said, "Are you going to your old manor?"
"Yes. There might be a lot to deal with recently, I need to go back and get a potted plant."
"We'll pass Alan's street on the way, it might already be a crime scene, and the Gotham Police Department will definitely set up a checkpoint on that street."
"It's not a big problem."
Under the flashing police lights, the reflection of the blockade line shone like a bright galaxy. The headlights and taillights formed a continuous line, and each car, checked and inspected, moved slowly through the group of police as if in old age.
When it was the turn of a Bentley, the trunk did not immediately open. An officer approached, knocked on the window, and the window slid down.
The young police officer took a light breath and reached for the gun holster at his waist. But the old police officer, who had gone to check the trunk and already saw the license plate, came over and pressed his hand down.
"Good evening, Professor Shearer."
"Good evening. Can you let me through?"
"Certainly." The old officer nodded, turned on the guide light in his hand, and waved them through. As the car started moving, he smiled at Shiller and said, "Your glasses are a little dirty, Professor."
"Got it, thank you."
Shiller took off his glasses while driving, handed them to Victor in the passenger seat, and said, "Wipe them for me."
Victor took a tissue from the side, and the moment he placed it against the lens, he saw a blood-red spot begin to seep through the back. He turned the tissue over, and sure enough, saw the bloodstain stuck on the lens.
"No wonder that officer just now wanted to draw his gun." Victor said while wiping the glasses, "Can't you clean things up a bit more thoroughly?"
"If I didn't leave some trace, who would know I killed someone?"
"Are you trying to find more work for Gordon?"
"On the contrary, he might be very busy soon, so I left a clue to tell him it was me, so he doesn't waste his energy on this."
"Why make the scene so bloody?" Victor couldn't help but ask.
"Brainiac won't be afraid, but humans will. Especially those speculators who have been in office all year round; they've never seen such a bloody scene. After the media reports it, it should be enough to shock them."
"I'm afraid it won't be that easy to stop." Victor sighed and said, "Interest makes people crazy. Brainiac certainly has precisely pinpointed human weaknesses, and I'm afraid this time it will lead to chaos."
"Barry hasn't appeared, but he hasn't gone home either; what do you think he's up to?"
Victor frowned slightly. Shiller continued, "Even though the Justice League is off duty, it doesn't mean they don't have a backup plan. Brainiac won't succeed."
"Hopefully." Victor said, "Luckily, we don't have any superheroes in our family, otherwise I'd have to clean out the warehouse at home to store those living ice sculptures."
The car stopped in front of the estate. At the moment, there was no one in the estate. Shiller entered the back garden, picked up the Little Devil Hexagon's potted plant, and placed it into the trunk of the car as well.
The two of them returned to Gotham University. Shiller found a spot in the nearby woods, let Hexagon have a late-night snack, and then moved him to his office.
After being busy for a while, Shiller finally got to sit down and take a rest. Barely two minutes later, Xi Wana's call came through.
"A friend asked me to see if you know Bruce's whereabouts, since you're his PhD advisor. Of course, if you don't know, it's no big deal, I'm just asking."
"Tell him to come ask me directly."
"Better not." Xi Wana quickly said, "The folks at the Federal Bureau of Investigation are quite short on people these days, probably too busy to make a trip."
"Then tell them to stop investigating this matter, otherwise they'll be even shorter on people."
After hanging up, Harley's call came through.
"Lately, everyone keeps asking me where this person or that person has gone, it's driving me crazy! Is the Justice League really not planning to show up?"
"They probably have other plans." Shiller didn't hide it from Harley and said, "Right now, no matter how they deal with Brainiac, they're playing into his hands. They won't be so foolish as to knowingly step into a trap."
"They might choose to solve the problem on another level. But I don't quite know how they'll do it, and it doesn't concern us either."
"Alright." Harley said, "I'm planning to turn a mansion on the east bank of the Gotham River into our base. When will you guys come and take a look?"
"Tomorrow, I guess."
"I knew it." Harley said with a bit of resignation, but she still hung up.
Shiller sat in front of the computer, pondering. But soon, he opened the computer and started checking emails. After reading a few papers, he thought he might as well think of a plan to deal with Brainiac.
As soon as he had this thought, a green icon suddenly popped up at the bottom of the computer screen, as if someone had sent him a message.
But none of Shiller's usual communication software had a green icon. He thought it was a virus and didn't click it, but the icon enlarged itself. It was then Shiller saw it clearly, a round icon with a green bald head printed on it.
"Hello, Brainiac AI Butler System at your service. Professor, do you need any assistance from me?"
Looking at the pixelated icon bouncing on the screen, Shiller was a bit speechless, then he said, "You should at least make the software installation more convincing. How do you know I'm a professor?"
"This is not difficult for a super AI, Professor. Your information is public online, anyone can find it, so it's not an invasion of privacy."
Shiller initially wanted to unplug the power, but then his eyes glanced over at the 2000+ unread emails on the email interface, and he suddenly had a bright idea.
"Alright, my computer butler, I need you to do me a favor now." Shiller said.
"Please, Professor. I'm happy to serve you."
"Help me process the emails in the inbox. For greetings, just reply with a generic greeting; for submitted papers, annotate them thoroughly after reading; find mistakes in the papers, and for each mistake, reply with no less than 150-word correction suggestions; compare the texts online for plagiarism, and for paragraphs with high duplication rates, provide separate revision suggestions, as well as subsequent writing ideas and overall revision plans."
"Sure thing, Professor. Should I start now?"
"Yes, you manage that, I'm going to sleep."
Shiller wasn't joking; he really went to sleep. He hadn't had much rest the previous night and desperately needed to catch up on sleep.
When he woke up, it was already 6 AM. He had just gotten out of bed when he heard his computer shouting from the office:
"All emails have been processed, Professor. Would you like to take a look?"
Shiller freshened up briefly, then went out to sit in front of the computer. Just then, his phone screen lit up; Victor had sent him a message.
It was a website link. Shiller clicked it open and discovered it was a review page for the software, which just happened to be the green bald head he had seen.
"It's simply amazing! This is the best office software I've ever used, it helped me complete all the work! I finally have a whole weekend to relax!"
"The shopping suggestions it offered perfectly solved my problem, the diaper size was just right, the material was excellent, and there was even a delivery guy to bring it to the door. I heard the courier also used this software's navigation..."
"I really don't know how to describe it, it completed two weeks of art assignments for me, and they were done impressively well. My art teacher gave high praise. I thought AI wasn't that good at art..."
"It helped me fine-tune the panel settings that I couldn't get right for a long time, absolutely fantastic!"
Shiller scrutinized the reviews and found they weren't fake, but genuinely written by many people who had used the software, with a 99% approval rate. The remaining 1% was due to hardware incompatibility.
Soon, Victor sent him another message:
"I swear, I didn't agree to have it calibrate the low-temperature chamber data, but when I woke up, it was all done. Now Nora and I can finally take Billy hiking."
Shiller looked up at the computer, and the green bald head flashed a smile with eight teeth and gave a thumbs-up.
Great, this guy realized being tough didn't work, so he's trying to be soft now.