In the spacious lecture hall, the sound of professors in suits and leather shoes stepping on the floor was very clear. The lectures were delivered in clear tones and gentle rhythm. There was almost no sound behind the desks except for the "swishing" sound of taking notes.
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Most of the students sitting here are wearing FBI training uniforms, that is, blue shirts and black ties, with student ID cards hanging on their chests. Most of them have their hair cut short, they are strong, and they look focused.
Very energetic.
Most of the students sitting in the front row straightened their bodies, with their backs not close to the back of the chair, and their hands on the table, looking up at the screen behind Schiller intently.
Among the students in the back row, some were copying notes with their heads down, while others were discussing the case with the people next to them in voices so low that they were almost inaudible.
The young man sitting on the right side of the front row had dazzling golden hair. After the lecture paused for a while, he put down his pen and stood up and walked to the podium, whispered a few words to the professor, and then faced
The student held out a hand and said:
"Using me as the dividing line, my right side is the positive side, and my left side is the negative side. Every three rows are a group, sharing a debater position."
"Now, pass on the information I gave you. The reading time is half an hour, and the group discussion time is half an hour. After one hour, people will take turns speaking from right to left. The format is free debate. There is no time limit for speaking time, but
Different groups on the same side must not have exactly the same discussion angle..."
"You can call me Allen. I will observe and record this debate. Come to me after class to check the speech record and sign it. The professor will give you grades based on your class performance and written records."
Barry nodded to the left and right, retracted his hand, and then passed the materials to the first row. Everyone passed the materials to the back in silence, and then began to read them seriously.
Barry walked out of the classroom without any delay. After a while, he moved a table and a chair to the side of the podium, picked up his notebook, recorder and pen and sat down.
After the reading time and group discussion time, the debate began. Barry listened and took notes, and occasionally looked up. Schiller, who was standing behind the podium, glanced at what he had written.
Schiller knew that Barry did not use the Speed Force, but his handwriting was still very neat. Even in shorthand, the size of the letters and the spacing of the words all looked very pleasing to the eye.
But soon, Schiller's attention was attracted by the content of the debate.
It has indeed been a long time since he heard such a meaningful debate. Even though the agent trainees in the room were only 30 years old at most and were still in the grade of students, almost every debater who spoke had a loud voice and clear enunciation.
, and quite logical.
More importantly, after taking turns to speak for two rounds, the theme has not deviated, and no one has expressed personal emotions. No one is exploiting the loopholes in the other party's words to attack. Instead, everyone is discussing the matter, presenting facts and evidence, or
Strengthen the rationality of your own logic.
Schiller's reason told him that this was normal. These people had all been screened by the FBI, and they had also been screened by the conservatives in the FBI. They were all pretty good prospects, and they were said to be reasonable and well-founded.
Speaking and being able to control one's emotions are basic skills for adults.
But Schiller still felt a sense of surprise and emotion in his heart. He couldn't remember how long it had been since he heard an authentic East Coast rap song during a classroom debate.
Even though each of them had a gun, they could live in peace for more than two hours. Schiller even felt that he had witnessed the most glorious chapter of American security.
What moved him even more was that after the debate, Barry handed over a neatly written record of the debate with complete content and no blood on the paper.
At the bottom of the record, the names of all the students were neatly signed, all of them were legal names, and they were all spelled correctly.
Standing in front of the podium, Schiller took off his glasses. Looking at his slightly tired expression, Barry thought he had done something wrong. He said cautiously: "Sorry, professor, all my shorthand experience comes from
For court internships, the court's habits may be a little different from those in class. Please take a look at the records and see if there are any problems. I will correct them now so that I can remember them better next time."
"You did a good job, the handwriting is neat and the content is complete." Schiller said, flipping through the pages of his notebook.
"Don't be embarrassed to say it. This is also to accumulate work experience for me. I feel that classroom debate shorthand and physical evidence records have something in common. If you can point out where there are errors, when I am doing my job, say
Maybe the physical evidence analysis report can be optimized better." Barry said very sincerely.
Schiller stretched out his hand to cover half of his face and said: "You can also draw inferences from one example, and you attach great importance to your professional ability, are willing to work hard for it, have a stable mentality, and have strong initiative."
Barry was a little confused by his words. Schiller didn't sound like he was praising him, he was just evaluating him from an objective perspective, but it seemed like he was not just evaluating him.
"Okay." Barry shrugged and said, "When do you want to review today's debate reflection and summary essay?"
Schiller opened his mouth and said hesitantly: "Can I choose the time?"
"Of course." Barry was a little confused as to why Schiller asked. He said, "If you want to finish the marking tonight, I will try to collect it after dinner. Those who have no class in the afternoon should have finished their writing, and then tomorrow morning
Collect it again and deliver it to your office before lunch tomorrow."
"If you are not free tonight and tomorrow, then I will collect them together tomorrow afternoon and give them to you in the evening."
"Are you sure they can finish it?" Schiller asked hesitantly.
"It's just a 500-word essay." Barry said in surprise: "Didn't it be finished in an hour? When you left homework before, I wanted to ask if you left too little..."
"An hour? Not including the Speed Force?"
"Of course not! Not everyone has the Speed Force!"
Seeing Schiller's expression, Barry seemed to have thought of something. He folded his hands on the podium, looked up at Schiller and asked: "What kind of papers do you usually receive at Gotham University?"
?”
"There are several types." Schiller said while sorting out the records in his hand: "The most common one is that the request is for 500 words, but only 300 words are written, and it can't be collected within a week."
"There is another one, which requires 500 words and has written 50,000 words. The topic discussed is so creative and innovative that it can be directly published in a journal."
Barry's eyes widened in shock and he said, "Then will they publish it?"
"It can't be published. There are too many swear words and anti-humanity parts." Schiller shook his head: "At least more than half of it contains these contents."
"There is another kind of..." Schiller pursed his lips and said with an indescribable expression.
"A 500-word essay, three trips to my office, five trips to my home, one week of meditation and one week of dreaming, three days of leave for career entertainment, three days of leave for family chores, three trips to his home, and five trips to the company.
I doubt my academic level for a week, and doubt my teaching level for a week..."
Barry stared and swallowed, glanced at the black umbrella placed next to the podium and said: "How did this kind of student survive under your hands until now???"
Schiller's voice became deeper and deeper as he spoke, and he looked down at the neatly written classroom shorthand.
He now has a profound understanding of what it means to have no harm without comparison, and what it means to be patient. The more you think about it, the more you will get angry. The more you take a step back, the more you will lose.
Seeing the black aura surrounding Schiller, Barry couldn't help but instinctively take a step back.
In an instant, the speed force covered the surface of his body. After the Flash started running, he only said one sentence: "I'm going to collect my homework."
At the same time, in a warehouse at the end of a small village in western Mexico, Clark stood with his hands on his hips in front of a huge black tractor with a very ferocious shape. He and Diana, who also looked up at the tractor, let out an exclamation.
Bruce was still squatting on the side of the tractor for debugging. Clark asked with his mouth wide open: "So, that's what you've been busy with these past few nights? Is this... the Bat Tractor?"
"There is no such thing." Bruce denied: "This is just an ordinary tractor."
"But you clearly printed a bat pattern on the wheel hub."
"That's just for decoration."
"Wings on the steering wheel..."
"Personal aesthetics."
"But it and your Batmobile are a bit..."
"coincide."
Bruce replied without raising his head while tightening the tire screws. Diana poked Clark with her elbow and said, "Don't force a young man in the city to admit that this is part of his collection. You
Would you like to see a tractor among a bunch of luxury sports cars?"
"It's not because it's a tractor." Bruce, who was holding a wrench, stood up and said, "It's precisely because it's just a tractor and doesn't add any functions that bat equipment should have."
"Of course, this is only version 1.0. The materials here are limited and the strength of the materials is not enough. I plan to install reasonable fire suppression equipment based on subsequent increase in horsepower, add flight functions, and create a defense system immune to explosions and radiation..."
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"Stop, stop talking. If you keep talking, I will add a psychiatric registration to you." Clark interrupted Bruce.
Clark sighed, walked up and patted Bruce on the shoulder and said, "Look at the dark circles under your eyes. How many days have you been awake without sleep?"
"Okay, Bruce, I know you are also worried about the speed of spring plowing here, but there is no need for you to work so hard. You worked day and night and made us several days faster than planned, but if it hurts you for this
It’s not worth it at all.” Diana also stepped forward to dissuade her.
At this time, Green Arrow and his Mexican friend walked in in a hurry. He was not too surprised to see the tractor. After all, he had already seen the crashed Batplane when he was on the isolated island. He knew that the Bat equipment was all
This is his style, so he just said with joy: "Great, we finally have the equipment, and we have enough time. Let's start plowing the land now!"
Bruce nodded and was about to climb onto the tractor. Oliver quickly rushed forward and grabbed him and said, "You don't need to drive the tractor yourself. We have plenty of manpower."
Clark simply hugged Bruce's waist, pulled him directly to the ground, and then said: "Didn't you say this is just an ordinary tractor? Then Diana and I can also drive it. What you have to do now is to drive it properly."
Get some sleep."
"Have you forgotten what you said before, not to do everything yourself, but to leave opportunities for others to practice?" Clark said, staring into Bruce's eyes.
"Of course I haven't forgotten it, but the current situation is special. No, I am not referring to the spring plowing of this land. There are more urgent things to do."
Several people stared at Bruce with puzzled eyes, but Bruce turned to look at Clark and said, "Do you remember the question I asked you before?"
