Clark was actually a bit curious about what Shiller had done to make the military consider him comparable to a dangerous alien who could punch and explode alien spaceships.
So he asked, "What brought you here?"
"I was kidnapped," Clark heard him reply.
"You were kidnapped by the military?"
"No, I was kidnapped by a group of terrorists who attacked Luthor Manor."
"Then why are you here?"
"I'm an antique dealer."
"Can you get to the point?" Clark was a bit fed up with his evasiveness and asked, "What exactly caused the military to get hold of you?"
"Because I don't have strength like yours."
Clark took a deep breath. He thought he had calmed down, but now he felt a bit angry again.
"I'm just quietly doing a little business."
"Your so-called little business is exploiting Egyptian treasures collected by the British Museum, while deceiving Lex Luther and Diana Prince, making them fight each other fiercely and consecutively causing several terrorist incidents including attacking Luthor Manor and using traffic accidents to stage kidnappings?"
An African-American military officer with slightly graying hair appeared at the glass window, directly revealing Shiller's identity: "I think you would be a strong candidate for the biggest scammer wreaking havoc in the 21st century."
"My pleasure," Shiller replied.
Clark withdrew his gaze. Although he had greatly raised his expectations for Shiller, this still caught him a little off guard. He didn't know much about Lex but knew he's a super-rich man; he felt a bit unfamiliar with the name Diana Prince but could remember that seemed to be Wonder Woman's name; and the British Museum and Egyptian treasures only made him feel as if he accidentally stumbled onto a Hollywood adventure movie set. Even though he was a fearsome alien capable of demolishing alien spaceships with one punch, he was completely unable to involve himself in such high-level conversations. Thus, Clark decided to remain silent and not engage.
As it turns out, his decision was correct because subsequently, the dialogue between Shiller and the officer continued with a Hollywood blockbuster style but its content was already beyond his knowledge range.
"Where is the Snake Tail?" the African-American officer asked.
"I thought you had already found it. It seems you're no match for Lex Luther. If that's the case, why bother bringing me here?"
"Answer my question, where are you hiding the Snake Tail?"
"If you can't find it, perhaps you should consider that maybe Lex Luther took it. Although you're not as wealthy as he is, he's also smarter than you."
"Don't play dumb with me!" The African-American officer's voice sank, "I know Luther didn't get the Snake Tail either, he only got that gemstone. Tell me where the mural is, I need to know right now."
"I don't understand why the mural is more valuable than the gemstone. What are you more concerned about in those blocks of dirt?"
"Regarding that, you should know better than us. Don't you remember the Egyptian legend you told Lex Luther?"
"You really have been keeping a close eye on him," Shiller slightly tilted his head, sighed, and said, "I can tell you the mural's location, but can you be sure Lex Luther isn't watching you?"
The African-American officer stared tightly at Shiller, his eyeballs shifted left and right but seemed not to be observing.
"Think about it in your head," the African-American officer said.
"Excuse me?"
"Think about where the mural is in your head, I naturally have a way to know."
"Amazing, so you've invented a brainwave-reading device. Then why not use it on the friend next to me? Doesn't it work on aliens?"
"You really know a lot." The tone of the African-American officer completely sank as he said, "We won't use such low-efficient methods to dig for your brain's secrets, nor will we allow you to disrupt the situation and provoke conflicts. I always respect human rights, but..."
"But facing a scammer like me, you can break the rules a bit. I fully believe you have the ability to do so, but..."
Shiller mimicked his tone, drawing out the final syllable of the pivotal word. He stood up, approached the glass, and faced the African-American officer, with only a pane of glass separating them.
"You and this alien should have more in common, right? Mr. Hunter?"
The contraction of the officer's pupils did not escape Shiller's eyes. He smiled slightly and then said, "Helping us is actually helping yourself."
"I'm trying to help you." He lowered his voice and said, "And the chaos you've caused will only make things worse."
Shiller lightly shook his head, took a step back, and then said, "Let's see who's right, sir. You're not a police officer anymore… you're no longer."
The African-American officer took a deep breath, almost filling his entire thoracic cavity. Just when Clark thought he was going to punch through the glass, he turned and walked away.
"What's the Snake Tail?" Clark asked.
"Oh, this. I'm glad you still have leisure to hear me introduce a great creation from Ancient Egyptian civilization. The Snake Tail is the tail of the Frenes Snake, a sculpted mural left by Ancient Egypt..."
Clark perceived something amiss, so he interrupted Shiller and said: "Why shouldn't I have leisure?"
"Usually, when people are imprisoned, they care more about their own safety than a certain antique."
"Then you're mistaken, I'm not imprisoned." Clark shook his head and said, "I voluntarily came here. I just want to explain some things to them and remind them of certain things, so they can be on guard."
"So that's it. I thought you were worried about your own safety and had no time to worry about anything else."
"Anything else? What else?"
"The terrorists who kidnapped me were hired by Lex Luther; they're known as broker groups that do all sorts of dirty work. Thirty minutes after they were arrested, they were bailed out. I can't say I understand the industry rules well, but generally speaking, if someone's willing to pay a high price to bail them out, it's naturally for some urgent work."
"What does that have to do with me?"
Shiller walked up to the glass panel between them and Clark, pressed a cell phone screen against the panel, bent down, and said to the seated Clark: "If the Martha Kent mentioned in the text message located in Kansas State Smoville has nothing to do with you, then I might have thought too much."