The blue eyes in Luther's field of vision enlarged like quietly rotating planets. Perhaps it was Pluto, perhaps it was Neptune, or perhaps it was a gaze from the space station towards Earth.
Alexander Luther never imagined that one day he would use the cradle and homeland of the human race to describe an alien who made him extremely alert and cautious. But besides that, he couldn't think of a more suitable scenario to describe this moment.
But that expression quickly disappeared, as if the glasses on the bridge of the nose suddenly propped up a shield. The blue eyes completely vanished in the reflection of the lenses. The sniper bullet turned to dust, slowly falling from his palm. The other party pushed his glasses and said, "You should upgrade the quality of your glass, Mr. Luther. Can we start the interview now?"
Probably just paused for a second before the fury ignited Luther's heart. See, it's like that, so calm and indifferent. As if he hadn't just crushed a sniper bullet, but had merely brushed the snow off his shoulder; as if he hadn't just saved the life of the smartest human being in the world, but merely picked up a stray cat or dog from the roadside.
Doesn't he know what a sniper bullet means to a human when it pierces the brain?
Doesn't he realize how astonishing it is to stop a sniper bullet out of thin air?
Doesn't he know how much he can be rewarded for saving Alexander Luther's life, and how honored he should feel?
No, he knows nothing. This guy will only stare with those innocent blue eyes, being a clueless fool.
Luther stood in place without moving. He looked in the direction of the shot. Clark also stood quietly in place. This silent and indulgent attitude made Luther even more furious.
"I need you to give me an explanation, Mr. Kent." Luther suddenly turned his head and stared into Clark's eyes, saying, "Why was I attacked when you came to visit?"
"That's also what I want to ask you, Mr. Luther. Why were you attacked exactly when I came to visit?" Clark looked at him and said, "You know with me here, you won't die. So, what kind of new trap is this?"
Great, he's not even pretending now. Luther pressed his lips tightly, staring coldly at him. But Clark still kept that demeanor, slightly tilting his head and lowering his eyes, as if shyly avoiding eye contact, yet it didn't stop him from poking at Luther with language worthy of a top journalist.
"Using the smartest human brain to frame me probably isn't worth it, is it?"
The fury in Luther's heart dissipated instantly. He paused for a moment, smirked, and even had the mood to joke: "Maybe I just wanted to give you a front-page headline?"
"Don't make it so risky next time. Let him aim for your heart; that way, when I intercept your bullet, I can be a little farther away to avoid triggering your alien allergy."
Luther was annoyed once again.
"Can we start the interview now, Mr. Luther?" Clark said, looking down at his notebook.
About three kilometers away on the building rooftop, Selina lowered her binoculars with a puzzled look, fanning the wind lightly by her ear with her hand, then said, "My brother could never fail to calculate the trajectory of a sniper bullet. Why hasn't he sent anyone over yet?"
Shiller was already returning the sniper rifle to the case and said, "Don't wait any longer; he won't be coming today."
"Why?" Selina turned her head to look at him and asked, "We were trying to kill him, and Lex isn't someone who disregards his own life. Because I was used by Electronic Life, he almost wanted to sever ties with me, so why isn't he looking for the hitman now?"
"You, me, and the Electronic Life combined aren't as important as those blue eyes interviewing him now. Learn from him, miss, dealing with Electronic Life depends on you now."
Ignoring Selina's speechlessness, Shiller shouldered the rifle alone and descended the stairs, walking along the street and answering the phone.
"Hello? Yes, I'm right in Metropolis. What? A crash?!"
Shiller halted, glanced upward slightly to the surveillance camera on the nearby lamppost, composed his expression, and said, "I'm going to handle it right now."
After hanging up, he called back to headquarters: "There's been a plane crash involving a CIA temporary project team, with the Director of the CIA on board. Organize an investigative team to come to Metropolis right now, don't take a plane."
While speaking, Shiller opened the car door and sat in the driver's seat. This car, like the ones used previously to pick up Stark and others, was one of the special vehicles with magic engines urgently modified by Arkham Batman, to ensure his confidants' safety.
Driving the car, Shiller arrived at the Metropolis dock. As the second largest deepwater port on the East Coast, it was bustling even at night, full of people. He looked in one direction, only to find a vast stretch of foggy darkness there.
At night, the sea seemed like a beast swallowing everything. The romantic legends about the ocean and sailors were like the bulb hanging from an angler fish's head, luring the ignorant towards death.
Shiller looked around at the intersection and quickly saw an advertising sign. Following the direction indicated by the sign, he saw a storefront with a revolving glass door pulling down the shutter.
"Wait!" he shouted, rushing over, "Don't close yet, I need to rent a speedboat."
"Sorry, it's too late now, we're already closed for business," said the chubby man closing the door. In about two seconds, Shiller judged that he must be the owner of the shop.
"I'm afraid you'll have to rent it to me." Shiller flashed his credentials at him, and before the other could speak, he said, "You know a guy like me wouldn't be without a gun, but we have no grudge against each other, so there's really no need to push things that far."
The other guy muttered something hesitantly, but still resignedly opened the gate and said, "You're in luck, there's a nice little fellow left in the warehouse. You better treat him well, I assembled him myself..."
Opening the warehouse door, Shiller ducked inside and found that the owner wasn't lying. These speedboats had all been modified; not only were they brightly colored, but their engines and fuel tanks had been upgraded, clearly tailored for thrill-seekers.
"They love taking my little guys over to the island across," the owner introduced, "The other eight are rented out, won't be back tonight. These last two are my prized possessions, I don't rent them without connections. You better not ruin them..."
Shiller didn't respond and gestured for the owner to open the sluice gate in front of the warehouse. Once it was open, he pulled out a wad of US Dollar from his pocket and stuffed it into the owner's shirt before expertly getting onto the speedboat, starting it up, and speeding away, leaving the owner standing in the doorway counting the money with a look of delight.
The speedboat raced forward. Relying on Metropolis's relatively bright starlight, Shiller quickly spotted the small island the shop owner mentioned. There were faint flickers of firelight on shore, likely from the camping lights of a celebration party. As he got closer, differently colored tents and scantily clad men and women came into view.
Shiller glanced at the sea but couldn't see anything helpful, so he maneuvered the speedboat closer to the campers, secured the boat, and walked toward them.
"Oh hey, are you Richard? Why are you so late?" A bikini-clad beauty approached him saying, "We've already finished a round of fun. You... oh God, you never said you were this hot. It seems the wait was worth it, come on!"
With that, she flung herself into Shiller's arms. Shiller didn't dodge, he just blocked her with his arm. Unbothered, she laughed and said, "You look like you have Asian blood, a shy little boy. Come on, let's go to the tent."
"Did you hear anything just now?"
"Oh, you heard it too?" She raised an eyebrow in surprise and said, "Those jerks are all high, thought it was their illusion. I don't mess with that stuff, I know it was real, something seemed to have fallen, maybe a meteor."
"It was a plane," Shiller said, "A CIA plane. Do you remember the direction the sound came from?"
She stared at him in surprise and said, "I was just about to say, you look a bit like a cop. You're not Richard?"
"I'm not—Detective Rodriguez." Shiller flashed his credentials at her and said, "Sorry, miss, can't stick around. The Director of the CIA was on that plane, and the President gave a strict order to find the living or the dead within four hours."
"Oh my God, I'm actually living a movie plot. Can I be your Bond girl?" she said playfully.
"I'm afraid not, the thing that brought the plane down is very dangerous. But if you can point me in the right direction, I could buy you a drink in advance." Shiller pulled another wad of US Dollar from his pocket.
"Alright, since you're a handsome guy. The noise came from over there." The blonde pointed, then said, "I remember clearly because I was lying on the beach looking at the stars, it was definitely in that direction. By the way, where are you planning to go on your administrative leave? Could we have a chance encounter?"
Shiller, walking back, turned his head and said, "Hawaii, miss. Perhaps."
Shiller continued driving the speedboat in the direction she pointed out and soon reached the crash site. It was actually a small plane with only a few people aboard; the disturbance wasn't large, and there was no smoke or fire, indicating the breakup wasn't severe. The main body of the plane seemed to have sunk, leaving some scattered debris floating on the surface.
As Shiller sped the boat over, he immediately saw the brightly-colored, reflective life slides with several people wearing safety vests lying on them. He spotted Natasha's red hair at first glance.
He sped the boat over and did a quick turn, splashing them with water, then said, "You guys were too careless, knowing electronic life can manipulate electronic devices and still chose to fly over here."
"It wouldn't kill me anyway," Natasha said, confidently, "See, I'm fine. Are you here?"
Shiller was a bit helpless as he called Arkham Batman to report while saying, "Although no one was hurt, it's definitely not that simple. This electronic life's schemes are always intricate layers..."
Once connected, Shiller heard Arkham Batman say, "It wanted to pin the blame on you, creating the illusion that the Federal Bureau of Investigation tried to kill the CIA director. Evidence has already been obtained by some congressmen, and now it depends on what they plan to do."
"Impeach me in Congress? Or join forces to pressure you to replace me?"
"Perhaps both. What's your plan?"
"It's not my first day working for you. If they're coming for me now, there must be a reason. The only change during this time is that I've been visiting the Batcave to contact those two scientists. It probably already knows Doom and Stark have arrived."
"How would it know?" Arkham Batman asked with a hint of confusion, "The Batcave's been magically modified, I'm very sure it can't break through the shield nor possibly come into contact with them."
"What if they reached out to it voluntarily?"
"Why would they do that?"
"You might not know enough about those mad scientists from another universe. They can create world-ending events out of nowhere, and now that they've set their sights on electronic life, there's no way they'll stay quietly inside their cage conducting harmless security research."