Gotham Diamond Street, 8:30 AM.
As the coffee machine vibrated softly, the rich aroma of fruitwood and hazelnut drifted through the air. The sound of high heels approached, and fingers painted with red nail polish picked up a cup full of coffee.
"Good morning, Nelson."
"Good morning, ma'am. Watching the market all night again?"
"Don't mention it." The blonde woman took a sip of coffee and shook her head. "Ever since that damn Bra... what was it again?"
"Brainiac."
"Right, Brainiac. Ever since he restricted trading, it's been nearly impossible to work short-term stocks. My two teams lost 30% in a single day. At this rate, I have no idea how I'm going to explain it to the boss."
The man who had come over for coffee said, "It's only temporary. Don't forget, the president has a stake in the boss's two biggest stocks. He won't just sit back and do nothing."
"Yes, the boss obviously has a solution. After all, last time we turned things around by causing that gas safety accident. But this time, I'm worried the boss's plan will be difficult to hide from that cunning artificial intelligence."
"If we use the old method, of course it won't work. That guy has hacked every private phone and computer. Unless we stop using electronic devices, he'll definitely find out. But the boss found help this time."
"Help? Don't tell me it's another artificial intelligence?"
"I don't know about that. But I heard they're pretty confident. At the soonest, we'll have results this week."
"I just hope it doesn't cause too much of a stir. You have no idea—the last gas safety accident, plus the kindergarten food poisoning case, worked Wells and Hankinson so hard they went back home. I can't afford to lose any more manpower."
The woman