Chapter 493: Schiller's New Industry (2)

Chapter 493: Schiller's New Industry (2)

In Manor, the elegantly patterned vintage tablecloth with swaying tassels hangs down, gently moving in the noon sunlight. The food on the desktop is even more appetizing, highlighted by the perfect lighting. Merkel reaches out, adjusting the final dish on the table as Schiller descends from the upper floor.

He glances at the clock on the wall, and Merkel also checks her watch, saying, "The guests will be here soon."

As Schiller descends the staircase, the doorbell rings. Merkel walks over and opens the door. Mayor Luoyin enters, looking quite agitated, carrying a briefcase. He walks over to the sofa in the living room, throws the briefcase onto the sofa, places his hands on his hips, and stands in place with a sigh.

"What's wrong?" Schiller scrutinizes him, observing Luoyin still wearing his coat and hat, snowflakes clinging to his shoulders, his expression somewhat gloomy.

Luoyin takes a deep breath, adjusts his emotions, and then says, "It's nothing. I just had a telephone meeting, and I haven't quite calmed down."

"A telephone meeting about what?"

"Do you remember the donations from the charity event earlier?" Luoyin places one hand on his hip, the other on the back of the sofa, getting more and more frustrated as he speaks. "Originally, the donations were supposed to go to the Foundation, which would then assess and allocate the funds to various cities."

"However, the people from the Foundation used Gotham's poor security as an excuse to refuse the assessment. They only intend to give us the lowest level of donations. That money wouldn't even be enough to repair a road!"

"And this isn't the first time. During the allocation of state council funds, some lawmakers suggested lowering Gotham's priority and reallocating some of the funds to Metropolis..."

Luoyin covers his forehead, his chest heaving. Clearly, he's quite angry. He continues, "In addition to this, Gotham has suffered the worst among all major cities on the East Coast. Our temperatures have dropped significantly this year, leading to both snow and frost disasters. Several nearby farms and agricultural lands have been severely affected..."

"Furthermore, our newly developed Logistics System has suffered a significant blow. We need a lot of money for repairs. We can't rely solely on the Gang. They contribute very little and expect enormous gains. If we let them have too much control, it will lead to a major mess."

"You're quite clear-headed," Schiller remarks. Luoyin shakes his head, feeling a bit deflated. "It's only after becoming the damned mayor of this city that I realized Gotham has reached this state for a reason."

"The Foundation, state council, and even Congress, they have no intention of saving this place. They don't even allow us to save ourselves!"

"I proposed that we could lower the requested funding. We just need more snow removal equipment and some devices to warm the seawater. But they all refused. It's not that they lack these devices, they simply don't want to help."

"They give me the feeling that they're afraid this place might improve."

"They're not afraid of this place improving, but rather afraid that its improvement will have nothing to do with them. That would make them appear incapable, wouldn't it?"

Schiller walks to the dining table, pulls out a chair, and Luoyin, after standing in place for a moment, joins him at the table. Schiller says to him, "Wait a moment, we have two more guests coming."

Luoyin raises an eyebrow and asks, "You didn't mention anyone else. Who are they?"

"Oh, here they are," Schiller looks towards the door. Merkel walks over and opens it, revealing Victor and Bruce.

After exchanging greetings, Bruce and Victor take their seats. They look at Luoyin and the others with some confusion. Schiller hadn't mentioned that there would be additional guests at today's gathering.

"Now that everyone is here, let's start with the meal," Schiller says, picking up his knife and fork, preparing to eat. The others begin to have their lunch as well. Schiller continues, "How is the snow disaster relief and city reconstruction going?"

"Not very well," Luoyin's mood is still somewhat gloomy. He says, "Everywhere needs money, everywhere needs manpower. But hiring people also requires money."

"The Gang members are willing to build quickly, but they're scattered, not organized. They're all doing their own thing, resulting in a chaotic repair process."

"Have you thought about organizing them?"

Because City Hall lacks funds, and Gotham isn't a strong mayor system, what I say doesn't carry much weight. Almost no one listens."

"Have you considered boosting City Hall's funds?"

Luoyin sighs deeply again. He feels that Schiller seems to be hitting on all the sore points today. While cutting his steak with determination, he says, "How do we boost the funds? Raise taxes? The Gang members would go crazy, and funding is unreliable. We can't touch the tax rate either..."

"But..." Bruce glanced at Schiller and said, "Are you really planning to sell this thing? If you want to sell it, Wayne Enterprises can buy it at a high price."

"Why do you want it? It doesn't emit radiation anymore."

"I'm also quite interested in new materials. Consider it as an investment."

Schiller sighed. Bruce had already discerned his true intentions, so he could only say, "Alright, to be honest, I hadn't actually planned on selling it."...

"Let's say this mineral had some kind of therapeutic effect based on an unknown principle, like prolonging life or something. After undergoing special processing, it could be made into medicine or health supplements..."

"You're thinking of using it to scam people?" Luoyin asked, once again hitting the nail on the head.

"Don't put it so bluntly. This is an entirely new mineral. Even the combined efforts of top experts from various fields couldn't decipher its composition."

"But it's useless."

"How can you prove it's useless?"

"Then how can you prove it's useful?"

"While I can't prove it's useful, you also can't prove it's not..."

"Although I can't prove it's not useful, you also..."

"Stop!" Schiller halted this pointless tongue-twisting. He said, "I just want to make some money. Are you in or not?"

Luoyin put down his utensils, extended his hand, and shook hands with Schiller, saying, "I believe this will become a cornerstone industry for Gotham's future."

Two days later, in the corridors of Manor, Merkel carried a stack of thick documents in his arms, with a series of document cases hanging from one arm.

Standing at the door, he knocked and entered, placing the documents down. He said, "Sir, these are today's 24th set of documents. They were delivered to the mailbox by a guy emitting green light. It's... the logistical support plan for the Green Lantern industry, Part 302..."

"Furthermore..." Merkel lifted the series of document cases, stacking them one by one on the edge of the table, counting as he went, "Mist Crystal industry development plan, Sections 102, 104, and 106..."

When he placed the last case on the table's edge, he surveyed the room. The entire study was inundated with documents—on the floor, the table, the bookshelves, and even the windowsills—piled high with all sorts of documents.

The majority were sent by people emitting green light, and the remainder were delivered by newsboys shuttling between the mayor's office.

In just two short days, Schiller had been inundated with an enormous workload from the two extensive plans he had developed.

Sitting in his chair, Schiller lowered his head and retrieved an abacus from a drawer. He placed it on the desktop with a resounding "snap."

Then, his eyes glazed over as he began to daydream.

Just as DC Schiller, who had recently recovered from his injuries and risen from his sickbed to take over, snapped back to reality, the stack of documents that was towering overhead came crashing down with a loud "thud," burying him beneath it.

Emerging from the sea of documents, Schiller lowered his head and saw an abacus along with a note. The handwriting on the note was very familiar, and it read:

"No need to thank me. This is the abacus."

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