signingbooks Chapter 102 Superman: First Time at Work
Chapter 102 Superman: First Time at Work
Chapter 102 Superman: First Day at Work (4000-word long chapter)
"Hey, big guy!"
Clark Kent heard Mr. Bruce Wayne say to him:
"Don't you think you look a bit like that superhero in the report you're writing right now, the one called Superman?"
His smile suddenly froze.
Let's rewind 30 minutes.
……
……
……
Perry White is the editor-in-chief of The Daily Planet.
He always felt that:
Working people should act like working people.
For a newspaper, the financial backers behind the scenes can never be offended, even though he himself doesn't quite follow this rule—he was known for his rebellious nature when he was young, and reported many news stories that his financial backers did not approve of.
However, these news stories ultimately made the newspaper a fortune, which is why he was able to rise through the ranks and become the youngest editor-in-chief in the history of Planet Daily at the age of 30, instead of being ousted.
No matter who the newspaper was sold to, it still needed to make a profit, didn't it? And he, Perry White, was the only genius who could make the newspaper sell like hotcakes.
So sometimes, as long as he's sure his choice is right, he can completely ignore the demands of his backers, or even act first and ask for permission later. He's done this countless times during his decades-long career at the newspaper.
And he won every time.
In fact, Perry White thought himself to be extremely intelligent, wise, and decisive... (more than 5000 words omitted below), while most employers seemed as stupid as pigs, fat-headed, (more than 5000 words omitted below) and not very smart. Most of them knew nothing about the newspaper industry and were complete outsiders.
But this does not mean that the employer's opinion is unimportant.
In fact, the more foolish an amateur is, the more likely they are to mess things up. They often lack creative talent and ability, but have a knack for making a mess of things, and are quite adept at it.
Therefore, our editor-in-chief Perry White has developed his own unique way of dealing with employers.
Win over the majority of employees, establish your authority, build your own kingdom, prove yourself right time and time again, manage Planet Daily like an ironclad fortress, weaken the employer's voice and influence within Planet Daily as much as possible, and minimize the impact of their foolish decisions.
No matter how many times the Daily Planet changed hands, he always did it this way.
Even if the current patron changes from Morgan Edge, president of Galaxy Broadcasting Systems, to Bruce Wayne, Gotham City's most famous eligible bachelor, it's still the same.
This guy was no different from any of the other big spenders he'd met before—a bunch of idiots who knew absolutely nothing about journalism—well, except Morgan Edge, who was the most knowledgeable about journalism he'd ever met, and who had tried to challenge his authority right after acquiring The Daily Planet.
It took him a lot of effort to thwart the other side's evil plot (the so-called "plot" was only in White's own opinion).
Perry White was slightly lost in thought, then quickly shook his head.
But it's clear that there won't be a second troublesome character like him; Bruce Wayne is definitely not a very formidable character.
At this moment, he was standing in front of the Daily Planet with a large group of reporters of all kinds, ready to welcome Bruce Wayne's visit.
He glanced at his watch, then saw the other person's extended Lincoln limousine slowly pull up from the side of the street—
The timing was perfect; he had assumed that a famous playboy like Bruce Wayne would usually be late.
Wait, a stretched Lincoln?
This is an extended version of a luxury car model with a body longer than the standard vehicle, offering more seats and a more spacious interior.
Why would Bruce Wayne arrive in such a luxury car?
Perry White's face darkened as he recalled the rumors of the other man's playboy reputation. If the other man were to bring out a large group of beautiful women from his car later, the Daily Planet's reputation would be ruined!
His competitors will surely rush to report this bizarre story and then laugh loudly, thinking, "Wouldn't the other side be that outrageous?"
Then he saw the car door open, and Bruce Wayne got out alone, accompanied only by his old butler.
Thankfully, the worst-case scenario didn't happen.
Perry White breathed a sigh of relief. He saw Bruce Wayne wearing—uh…what was that?
The other person was wearing a bright pink mink coat, as flashy as a dodo bird's, over a Hawaiian plaid shirt.
He wore light shorts and bamboo slippers, and had sunglasses on his face. His mouth stretched all the way to his ears, and he was making silly, grinning noises.
Look at this guy's face, he's obviously the kind of rich idiot.
Do you think you're here for a vacation in the metropolis?
And that old butler behind him, what era is this? He's dressed like a British butler from the 20s. What do you think you're doing, filming a TV series?
Perry White, the editor-in-chief of the Daily Planet, inwardly scoffed, but still maintained a warm smile and extended his hand to the other man: "Welcome to Metropolis, Mr. Wayne!"
Then he was stuffed with a handful of banknotes.
?
What do you take me for?
Breathless, shivering, cold.
This is an absolute insult!
Do you really think I, Perry White, am someone who has never seen money before?
How could you insult me like that!
Perry White wanted to say it out loud, but he only managed to utter one word before he saw the old butler behind Bruce Wayne pull out a tall wad of cash from the box and throw it into his arms again.
"I×&%￥#@......"
Editor-in-Chief White's language module loaded erratically for a moment, then he snapped back to reality the next second.
This is a power grab! A complete and utter power grab!
The shrewd and capable editor-in-chief, White, immediately sharpened his gaze. The other party was clearly up to no good; those with good intentions wouldn't come.
The power-hungry man's lust for power was instantly activated, allowing him to quickly rid himself of his greed for money.
Within seconds, he quickly adjusted his mindset.
Faced with such a financial offensive, few people could resist, but he happened to be one of them...
perhaps.
"No, I'm not that kind of person."
He forced himself to speak.
He forced himself not to look at the pile of banknotes. He knew that his change in expression just now had alerted Bruce Wayne, which was why he was trying to shut him up with even more money.
That was a mistake, and he won't make it again.
He quickly stuffed the pile of money back into the old butler's box, then symbolically took the first small wad of cash: "Thank you so much, Mr. Wayne, you're too kind."
"But I don't accept undeserved rewards. I don't deserve too much money. I'm not that kind of person."
He forced his head to turn, feeling his heart clench in waves.
Then he turned his head and saw Steve Lundborg, a sports reporter from the Daily Planet, eagerly rushing up to him: "Mr. Wayne! It's a pleasure to meet you!"
Renbird was a physically fit former professional athlete until he suffered comminuted fractures in both knees in a car accident. He then returned to college, earned a journalism degree, and joined the Daily Planet, specializing in the sports section.
—The above is his past resume.
Now, in Perrywhite's eyes, our Mr. Lundbold has become a dog waiting to be fed.
Then, the next second, he was overjoyed to be showered with a huge wad of cash.
"Great, whether it's a human or not, I can—"
Alfred pulled more money out of the box.
Our editor-in-chief, White, watched helplessly as the old butler showered each person with cash. The reporters he brought immediately erupted in cheers.
"Alright," he said somewhat defiantly, changing the subject, "Would you like to see the interior, Mr. Wayne?"
He didn't even want to continue with the welcoming remarks.
They went inside the Daily Planet together.
The sports reporter contentedly stuffed the banknotes into his pants pocket one by one, enjoying the feeling of fullness, before a wave of guilt washed over him.
Having received so much money, I felt I had to help out in some way.
While the editor-in-chief and Mr. Wayne were still talking, he turned his head and saw the old butler who had given him the money earlier trying to put the suitcase on his back, so he immediately said:
"It must be tiring for an elderly person like you to carry so much money. Let me help you."
"I can help you carry it..."
He placed his hands on the box and then pulled hard.
It couldn't be moved.
He exerted a sudden force, his arm muscles bulging, and the box was lifted slightly.
He could already feel his spine groaning.
"Thank you very much, Mr. Lundborg!"
He heard the old butler say to him in a British accent, "But I'm afraid I can do my job myself."
Then he saw the other person lift the suitcase with one hand, sling it over his shoulder, and stand lightly behind Bruce Wayne.
The box looked like a building block in the hands of that gaunt old man.
The sports reporter looked at his arm with suspicion; he was a little confused.
"That doesn't make sense," he muttered.
"Planet Daily owns..."
Perry White waved for the less important reporters to disperse and return to their posts, to prevent them from being completely overwhelmed by Bruce Wayne's money offensive.
He, accompanied by several prominent editors, continued walking with Bruce Wayne through the vast office complex: "We have more than..."
Before he could even begin his long speech, he heard Bruce Wayne whisper to him:
"Stop, tell me where Clark Kent is first."
Editor-in-Chief White blinked. He had already guessed that the other party would ask this question.
Since the Daily Planet was acquired by Bruce Wayne some time ago, he has made a special request of him:
The job posting prioritized hiring a farm boy from Kansas, with no educational requirements and an age of around 20 to 30. The criteria were so obvious that when he received the job posting, he almost thought, "Why don't you just give me a name and I'll hire you right away?"
"I put him in the same office as Louis Lane," Editor-in-Chief White said.
Then he called out to those behind him, "Miss Ryan, Miss Ryan?"
The dark-haired beauty, a few steps behind them, quickly stepped forward, extended her hand, and said somewhat awkwardly, "Hello, I'm Louis Lane. It's a pleasure..."
But Bruce Wayne didn't shake her hand; she had another wad of money in her hand.
The shrewd and capable Louise felt her tongue starting to tie itself in knots. She could only forcefully steer the conversation away from the handshake and say:
"Come with me, Mr. Wayne, let me introduce them to you."
Editor-in-Chief White made way for Louis to lead them into the office: "Everyone, stop what you're doing. This is our financial backer, Boss Bruce Wayne—"
His voice broke the silence of the office, and Jimmy Olson looked up from his thick stack of documents.
But Chen Tao ignored him and floated directly to Clark Kent's table, unable to hide his excitement.
But Chen Tao quickly concealed his emotions again, pretending to be engrossed in what he was writing on the table.
Louis gave Editor-in-Chief White a questioning look, and the other shrugged.
Startled by the sudden interruption, the Kansas boy stiffened for a moment, then gave a shy smile.
Chen Tao reached out and took the manuscript he was writing. Clark's hand flickered for a moment, but then immediately returned to its original place, letting the manuscript be taken away.
"Hmm, a mysterious flying man appeared in Metropolis to fight crime? You call him Superman?"
Perry White strode over: "Newcomer, I told you, we need news, not urban legends. You can't..."
"It's alright, it's alright."
But before he could finish speaking, Chen Tao interrupted him.
"Hey, big guy!"
Clark Kent heard Mr. Bruce Wayne say to him:
"Don't you think you look a bit like that superhero in the report you're writing right now, the one called Superman?"
His smile suddenly froze.
???
"Is there?"
Clark Kent immediately and silently turned the biological field to its maximum, then put on an innocent smile: "I don't think it's like that at all."
His biological perspective could distort others' perceptions, making them unable to recognize him. Clark Kent was certain that, by all accounts, no one should associate him with that flying man!
They are completely two different people!
"Take off your glasses."
He heard Bruce Wayne say, "Hurry up."
Clark did as he was told, raising the bio-field level by another notch, his hand trembling slightly from the force.
Chen Tao held up the photo on the manuscript and placed it flat next to Clark's face.
"That's right."
Clark heard the other person say, "You are Superman."
???
Clark's super brain has fallen into chaos.
"You must be joking," he stammered. "How could I...?"
Jimmy Olson leaned in: "That's true, Mr. Wayne. I think... well... they're completely different."
Chen Tao neither confirmed nor denied it.
"What do you think, Miss Ryan?"
Louise Lane seemed a little confused, but she still said, "I don't think so at all..."
Snapped!
But before she could finish speaking, a thick wad of banknotes appeared in front of her.
Alfred flashed back into the corner.
Chen Tao turned to her and asked, "Do you think they look alike now?"
"...I think Clark Kent looks exactly like Superman."
"Oh, Mr. Wayne, no matter how you look at it, they..."
Snapped!
Jimmy Olsen was also stuffed with a wad of cash.
"That's right, Clark Kent is practically indistinguishable from Superman!"
Clark stared in disbelief at his two colleagues.
Snapped!
Snapped!
Snapped!
Stacks of banknotes were handed out to everyone present.
Finally, a wad of cash was thrown in front of Clark Kent.
"I think you're Superman."
"Indeed."
"No problem."
"They look exactly alike!"
A chorus of agreement erupted around him.
Clark Kent stared blankly at the banknotes, then a look of helplessness crossed his face.
"Ah, yes, yes, that's right, I am Superman."
He said.
(End of this chapter)