Chapter 1256: The Farm of Justice (38)

In the spacious lecture hall, the sound of the professor's shoes stepping on the floor is very clear, the lecture is clear and the rhythm is gentle, and there is almost no sound behind the desk except the "swishing" sound of taking notes.

Most of the students sitting here are wearing the FBI's training uniform, that is, a blue shirt with a black tie, and a trainee certificate hanging on their chest. Most of them have short hair, strong bodies, focused expressions, and look very energetic.

Most of the students sitting in the front row straighten their bodies, their backs are not close to the back of the chair, their hands are on the table, and they look up and concentrate on the screen behind Schiller.

Some students in the back row are copying notes with their heads down, and some are discussing the case with the people next to them in a voice so low that it is almost inaudible.

The young man sitting on the far right of the front row had dazzling golden hair. After the lecture paused for a while, he put down his pen, stood up, walked to the podium, whispered a few words to the professor, then stretched out his hand to the students and said:

"With me as the dividing line, my right side is the affirmative side, and my left side is the negative side. Every three rows form a group, sharing one debater position."

"Now, pass the information I gave you back. The material reading time is half an hour, and the group discussion time is half an hour. After an hour, you will take turns to speak from right to left. The form is free debate. There is no requirement for the length of speech, but the angles of discussion of different groups on the same side must not be exactly the same..."

"You can call me Alan. I will listen to and record this debate. After class, come to me to check the speech record and sign it. The professor will give you grades based on your classroom 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 back silently and began to read them carefully.

Barry walked out of the classroom without hesitation. 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 were over. The debate began. Barry listened and took notes, occasionally looking up. Schiller, who was standing behind the podium, glanced at what he was writing.

Schiller knew that Barry did not use the speed force, but his handwriting was still very neat. Even if it was shorthand, the size of the letters and the spacing of the words looked very pleasing to the eye.

But soon, Schiller's attention was attracted by the content of the debate.

He had indeed not heard such a meaningful debate for a long time. Even though the maximum age of these special agent trainees in the field was only 30 years old, they were still students, but almost every debater who spoke had a loud voice, clear pronunciation, and was quite logical.

More importantly, after two rounds of speeches, the topic has not deviated, and no one has brought up personal emotions. No one has attacked the loopholes in the other party's words, but they are all discussing the matter, presenting facts and evidence, or strengthening the rationality of their own logic.

Schiller's reason told him that this was normal. These people have been screened by the FBI and the conservatives in the FBI. They are all very good seedlings. Speaking reasonably and being able to control their emotions are the basic skills of adults.

But Schiller still felt a little surprised and moved. He couldn't remember how long it had been since he heard an authentic East Coast rap in a classroom debate.

They obviously all had guns, but 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 in a debate record with neat handwriting, complete content, and no blood on the paper.

All the students' names were neatly signed at the bottom of the record, all of them were legal names, and all were 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: "I'm sorry, professor, my shorthand experience comes from court internship work. The court's habits may be a little different from the classroom. Please take a look at this record to see if there are any problems. I will correct it now so that I can remember it better next time."

"You did a good job, the handwriting is neat and the content is complete." Schiller said while flipping through the notebook paper.

"Don't be embarrassed to say that this is also accumulating work experience for me. I think that classroom debate shorthand and physical evidence material recording have something in common. If you can point out where there are mistakes, when I do my job, maybe I can also optimize the physical evidence analysis report better." Barry said very sincerely.

Schiller stretched out his hand to cover half of his face and said, "You can draw inferences from one example, and you value your professional ability very much, are willing to work hard for it, have a stable mentality, and are proactive."

Barry was a little confused by his words. Schiller didn't sound like he was praising him, but just evaluating him from an objective perspective, but it seemed that 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."

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"Are you sure they can finish it?" Schiller asked hesitantly.

"It's just a 500-word essay." Barry said in surprise: "Didn't you finish it 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, has written words, and the topic discussed is amazingly creative and innovative, and 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 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 to meditate and one week to dreaming, three days off for career entertainment, three days off 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 glanced down at the neatly written classroom shorthand.

He now has a profound understanding of what it means to have no harm without comparison, what it means to be patient and get angry the more you think about it, and the more you think about it when you 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 nudged 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 stood up with a wrench 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, add flight functions, and create a defense system immune to explosions and radiation based on increasing the horsepower in the future..."

"Stop, stop talking. If you keep talking, I will add a psychiatric registration for you." Clark interrupted Bruce.

Clark sighed, walked up and patted Bruce on the shoulder and said, "Look at the dark circles under your eyes. Have you not slept for how many days in a row?"

"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 the style, so he just said with joy: "Great, we finally have the equipment, and there is enough time. Let's start plowing the land now!"

Bruce nodded and was about to climb onto the tractor. Oliver 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 drive it. What you have to do now is to drive it properly." Get some sleep."

"Have you forgotten what you said before, don't do everything yourself, leave opportunities for others to practice?" Clark said, staring into Bruce's eyes.

"Of course I didn't forget, but the situation is special now. No, I'm 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?"

"What question?"

"Can you grow broccoli?"