Bruce also mentioned during a water break, "Indeed, the researchers from the Wayne Group Lab have arrived at the same conclusion."
Bruce emphasized the words "researcher," and Schiller understood his hint. The so-called researcher was actually him.
"What exactly are you guys talking about?" Roy asked in confusion.
Schiller beckoned Merkel, who quickly understood and grabbed a box from the nearby shelf. Upon opening the box, a dazzling gemstone inside caught Roy's eye.
It appeared semi-transparent, with a foggy appearance within the stone that shimmered brilliantly, as if emitting its own light source. Under different angles of light, the inner fog would change. Roy couldn't help but be attracted, staring at it for a while.
"What is this?"
"I have named it Fog Crystal, but in reality, it is a peach pit spat out by a glutton after having eaten the peach. I cut it in the style of a diamond, and it ended up looking like this."
Schiller took the gem out of the box and held it in his hand. This gem was actually non-radioactive Kryptonite. It had initially been transparent, but after being expelled by the Gray Mist, it turned semi-transparent with a bit of fog, making it incredibly beautiful and hard to take eyes off of.
"This thing is pretty beautiful, I'd love to gift it to others, but what does it have to do with a new industry?"
"Do you think, as a kind of new material, it holds any economic value?"
"Economic value? That depends on what it can do. Does it have any special properties? Like..."
Roy racked his brains but couldn't think of any technical terms. He understood the concept and knew that some rare metals could be used as raw materials for key parts of certain devices, or they possessed some irreplaceable special properties. And because they were rare, they would sell for high prices.
"Its special property is, nobody knows what its special property is."
What Schiller said sounded like a tongue twister. Pointing at Bruce and Victor, he said, "A world-class chemist and a cryogenic scientist, along with the top researchers hired by Wayne Enterprises, have been unable to decipher the properties of this new unknown mineral..."
"Isn't it useless then?" Roy interjected.
"But, that's only temporary. What if research reveals something in the future?" Schiller put down his cutlery, wiped his mouth with a napkin, and said,
"Every unknown new material is a blue ocean waiting to be explored. Moreover, it has a guaranteed aesthetic value. Even if it doesn't have any unique properties, its rarity and beauty retain a certain value."
"So, you want to..."
Find a way to make its price go up, that way we will have the budget for disaster relief and reconstruction, right?"
"Where is the mine for this thing? Is the output stable?" Roy asked, having some familiarity with this area.
Schiller's idea was easy to understand. It was essentially dealing in futures. A new material on which researchers haven't established its properties is bound to attract investors. Moreover, this new mineral, known as the fog crystal, looked more like a decorative gemstone and its value was clearly visible, ensuring it would attract a fair number of investors.
The remaining question was that investors certainly would inspect the mine, the stability of the mineral output, and then decide on the volume and duration of their investment.
"That's a problem as there isn't a mine for this thing, and no real output. All the mineral resources are here with me, they are all in stock."
Bruce knew that Schiller's 'new mineral' was actually Kryptonite that has had its radiation drained. He also put down his cutlery and wiped his mouth, then said, "That would fall under the art market -- aesthetic value, mystique, exclusiveness, all could be used to exploit it."
"But…" Bruce glanced at Schiller and said, "Are you sure you want to sell this thing? If you want to, Wayne Enterprises can buy it at a high price."
"Why do you want it? It doesn't have any radiation left."
"I'm also very interested in new materials. Consider it an investment."
Schiller sighed. Bruce had already figured out his real intention. He could only say, "Alright, I'm not actually intending to sell it."
"What if this mineral has some therapeutic effects based on unknown principles, such as prolonging life. After some special processing, it could be made into pharmaceuticals or health products..."
"So, you want to trick people out of their money with it?" Roy asked bluntly.
"Don't put it so bluntly, this is a completely new mineral. Even the efforts of top experts from various fields couldn't decipher its composition."
"But it's useless."
"How do you prove that it's useless?"
"Then how do you prove that it works?"
"Although I can't prove that it works, you can't prove that it's useless…"
"Even though I can't prove that it's useless, you can't prove that…"
"Stop!" Schiller called a stop to this meaningless roundabout conversation, he said: "I just want to trick people out of their money, will you join me or not?"
Roy put down his cutlery, extended his hand, and shook hands with Schiller, saying, "I believe this will be the pillar industry of Gotham's future."
Two days later, in the mansion hallway, Merkel held a hefty stack of paperwork in his arms and a string of document boxes hung from the crook of his arm.
He knocked on the door, then walked in, put the documents down, and said, "Sir, this is the 24th batch of documents for today. It was delivered to the mailbox by a guy glowing green. It is... part 302 of the Green Lantern Production Support Plan..."
"Also…" Merkel picked up the string of document boxes, stacking them one by one at the corner of the desk, counting as he went, "Fog Crystal Development Plan 102, 104, 106…"
By the time he had placed the last box on the corner of the table, Merkel looked around the room. The entire study was drowned in documents. The floor, desk, bookshelves, windowsills, everything was covered with all sorts of files.
The majority of these were delivered by guys glowing green, while the rest had been delivered by the Newspapers boy going back and forth from the mayor's office.
In just two days, Schiller was overwhelmed by the immense workload brought by the two large-scale plans he had developed.
Schiller, who was sat in a chair, took out an abacus from a drawer and slapped it on the desk with a "thud."
Then, his eyes glazed over as he began to space out.
DC Schiller, who had just recovered from his injuries and taken over after getting out of bed, had barely gathered his wits when the towering stack of files fell over with a "Thud," burying him underneath.
When he managed to crawl out from the sea of files, Schiller saw an abacus and a note. The handwriting on the note was very familiar:
"No need to thank me, this is an abacus."