Everyone was squatting in the backyard with heads bowed and spirits low.
Although they were skilled, Shiller's umbrella was not to be underestimated. It would have been tolerable if it only raised a couple of bumps on their heads, but Shiller's umbrella was also a controlling instrument. Just a glance at the pattern on it would start making one feel dizzy, necessitating a two to three-minute pause to recover.
Shiller took advantage of their dizziness to scold them fiercely, sparing neither their character nor personality, with detailed and precise attacks, making them feel as though their lives were over after hearing it.
Everyone thought he might as well be a venomous snake.
Of course, they were quickly chased up from the ground by Shiller, who had a long list for them, sending them off to the supermarket to buy supplies.
During his stay here, Shiller had become quite adept at organizing banquets and was no longer as flustered as he was at the beginning.
He understood that sometimes a formal banquet indeed needed a few days of preparation, but if one must gather everyone quickly, all that was needed was a ready venue and food; everything else was secondary.
So Shiller didn't prepare invitations; he just took a picture of the sunset over the lake and sent it to the emails of everyone he wanted to invite, telling them he was planning a lakeside dinner to enjoy Gotham's most beautiful summer sunset.
The sunset tonight was especially splendid, perhaps due to the optical phenomena in the sky caused by the duel between the two witches.
Clusters of soft clouds were conveniently floating above the setting sun, tinged warm orange by the remaining glow, like orange soda with ice, while red and purple undulated on the dark side, as if a spoonful of mulberry syrup had been added to the soda. Watching the two brilliant colors merge and seep through the refraction of glass, they became even more enchanting and gentle.
Shiller put down the drink he'd mixed and, looking out the kitchen window, saw Gordon's car arriving. He estimated the time and guessed Gordon brought quite a bit of food.
Unexpectedly, Barbara also got out of the car and was holding their daughter; it seems he had taken the extra time to pick up his wife and child.
Wanda and Jarvis arrived in a car behind; they were discussing those giant animals. After the power of Circe's witchcraft was revoked, everyone had returned to normal, though some had been injured, such as the stubborn gorilla who had fallen from an upper floor and broken its leg.
The chaos caused by the incident required some time to subdue, but fortunately, as the days went by, the temperature was also gradually dropping. The deep nights were no longer so sweltering, and maybe in a few days, there would be a cool evening breeze.
Shiller placed the prepared beverages on a trolley and wheeled it to the backyard, then along the lawn to the dining area they were using today.
No sooner had he left the backyard than he spotted a figure peeking out; Miss Richie emerged from one side of the yard and, looking over the house, said, "I thought I had the wrong place; I didn't realize this was actually your house."
"You look surprised, why?"
"You don't look like someone who would be this wealthy... I came in a hurry, didn't bring anything; is there anything I can help you with?"
"Just wait in the yard for a moment; I'll be right back."
No sooner had Shiller finished delivering the drinks than a somewhat unfamiliar car stopped at the gate, and a man got out—it was Heckman, then Cobblepot stepped down.
They seemed to be discussing the situation at Arkham Asylum. Shiller approached to greet them, and Heckman quickly came up to shake hands with Shiller, saying, "Thank you so much, Professor. Pari really likes it there; she will definitely get the best treatment at Arkham Mental Hospital. Dr. Brand also said her condition isn't severe, and she might improve within a month."
"Nothing could be better, sir. Oswal, Pamela is already waiting for you by the lake; you better go over there. I need to have a private word with this gentleman."
Cobblepot nodded to him. Though skipping a small talk with the host was a bit impolite, he was genuinely more concerned about the medicine for Alzheimer's and hurriedly made his way to the lakeside.
Pamela was standing under the largest tree, where she and Zatanna had swung a swing. She sat on it, gently swinging.
Upon seeing Cobblepot arrive, she did not stand up, but stayed seated and said, "Good news, we've found the original species; it seems to contain some energy we haven't seen before, which could be the active ingredient, but extraction will take some time."
"The bad news is that we don't have enough of the original species; we must cultivate it artificially. I suggest building a plantation in Gotham. Once the medicine is extracted, even if the yield is low and the cost is high, there still will be buyers, and we might even make a small profit."
Cobblepot was not concerned with this; he said, "I will invest whatever amount you need, but I hope you can produce results."
"Professor Shiller said he has already dealt with those annoying conservationists through a deal with Amanda, without any interference, I can certainly produce satisfactory results, but there's more."
Pamela sighed, stood up from the swing and said, "I don't know how long Amanda's help will last; it wouldn't be good if those people came back. I hope, I can achieve a reputation and status they cannot shake."
"If you really can develop an effective drug for Alzheimer's, the Nobel Prize will undoubtedly be yours," Cobblepot said.
"Yes, so what I am about to say isn't about me. My mentor Victor's Dense Ice Technology hasn't been submitted for consideration because of an agreement he had with gangster families to keep this technology strictly confidential, not to display or trade it outside. But I think this technology truly deserves an award."
"I'll go talk to them," Cobblepot said, "We can renegotiate the agreement, and maybe he'll also get a Nobel Prize."
Pamela was finally satisfied and said, "Don't blame me for being too ambitious. After experiencing crises with mortgages and conservationists messing things up, I've finally realized that nothing beats being powerful myself. Having a say is the only way to deal with social crises, just like Professor Shearer."
"I've always thought of you as a true conservationist," Cobblepot said, while walking by the lake, "I'm glad you realize that giving plants more autonomy to survive isn't about letting them jump up and beat up humans, but rather, like humans, to demonstrate their value."
Pamela chuckled and said, "I'm not sure which type the lofty Plant Deity really needs, but it looks like I need the second type more. If he sees this as a humiliating submission and decides to abandon me for someone else, I won't change my philosophy."
"He won't. If that's what he wanted, plants would have waged a major war against animals thousands of years ago. But that didn't happen. Plants have always been consumed and utilized by animals. Yet, despite dinosaurs having been extinct for so long, plants are still lush and everywhere," Cobblepot assured.
"Every group provides value to another and then in turn accepts value from them. Humans consume plants and then return to the earth as nutrients. I just hope that plants can have higher value than just food, which would be more conducive to their proliferation."
"And those fake conservationists hope humans neither eat nor use plants. If one day plants completely lose their value to humans, perhaps they would go extinct like many valueless things," Cobblepot added.
"Hopefully, Amanda can teach them a lesson," Pamela shrugged, looking towards the distant sunset.
Soon, other guests at the banquet began arriving, but Professor Shearer had yet to appear. They didn't know what the professor was up to, but they gathered in groups by the lake, admiring the brilliant sunset reflected on the water.
The vast lake shimmered under the light, and the unsightly construction site had been cleared, leaving only rows upon rows of lush trees, the intermingling gold and green like patterns on a throne.
Professor Shearer was standing in the yard, and in front of him, surrounded by a crude fence made of branches, were two shivering pigs.
Professor Shearer wiped the butcher knife in his hand and asked Heckman and Miss Richie standing in front of him, "Do you have any experience with slaughtering?"
"Uh, pigs?" Heckman scratched his head and said, "Afraid not. I haven't even eaten pork before."
"Okay, what about you, Miss?"
Miss Richie was curiously looking at the two pigs in the pen and then she said, "Would you believe me if I told you this is the first time I've seen a live pig?"
Professor Shearer sighed in resignation and said, "Okay, I'm going to introduce you to the standard pig slaughtering procedure. But before that, please allow me to explain some of the farming experience from Eastern countries. To avoid a strong gamey taste in the pork, it is necessary to castrate them at a young age."
"Although these two pigs are already grown, I think we still need to follow the procedure. Grab the knife, I'll teach you how to castrate and bleed them."
It didn't take more than ten minutes before the commotion near the yard drew everyone's attention. All of them ran over and saw Heckman and Miss Richie being chased around the yard by the pigs.
Those with rural survival experience would understand that killing a pig is not that simple. After all, it's a large animal; a charge can knock down a string of adults. It's difficult to slaughter a pig without experience.
But these two were apparently no pushovers. Although they couldn't directly overpower the two crazed pigs, they still had knives in their hands and managed to land some blows whenever an opportunity presented itself. The pigs, wounded all over, became even more frenzied and smashed into the walls, while the onlookers perched up there enjoyed the show.
"Who do you think will handle these two big fellows first?" Star Lord asked Rocket beside him.
"Definitely the man. He might be thin, but he looks like he's had some training before. He'll definitely be stronger than that dainty little girl," Rocket replied.
Of course, some felt this treatment of animals was cruel. Wanda was somewhat distressed, but Gordon beside her seemed to think of something. He pulled Wanda close and whispered a few words in her ear. Wanda's expression brightened with understanding, and then she started cheering for Miss Richie, even attempting to sneakily use the power of Scarlet to cheat.
Unfortunately, Jarvis noticed her actions, and Wanda had to give up. She could only mumble a few words to herself in disappointment.
As it turned out, the pig that Miss Richie was chasing, which was slightly smaller, somehow tripped on a step and crashed into a tree. Miss Richie, who couldn't stop in time, crashed into the pig as well.
When she was about to hit, she instinctively put her hand forward to block it, but she was still holding the knife. The knife plunged into the pig's rear, and the pig bellowed and charged out.
The back door wasn't firmly closed, and the pig directly broke through it and ran out. The other pig also got away from Heckman, howling as it ran out of the backyard.
Now the other people couldn't just watch the commotion; everyone was busy trying to catch the pigs on the lawn.
To be fair, these were no ordinary people, and a couple of regular domestic pigs were no match for them. The pigs were chased all over, and it wasn't long before they were cornered by the lake.
Eventually, Rocket fired a large net and captured both pigs. He had just been flipped over by one of the pigs due to his small size and was now clutching his chest and shouting, "I'll show them what old man Rocket is capable of! Star Lord, go chop down a tree! I'm going to roast them!!"