After Schiller left, Strange had wanted to take a short rest, but Jarvis soon brought over new administrative work that needed reviewing and signing. He had no choice but to keep working at his desk.
However, while he was going through the documents, Jarvis suddenly said, "Sir, what do you think of these documents?"
Without looking up, Strange said, "Not bad. The font is elegant, the word count is reasonable, and aside from the fact that I have absolutely no idea what any of it means, everything is excellent."
"I already highlighted the key points. You still can't understand them?"
"I can read the words, but I can't comprehend the content," Strange said. "If you're saying that you painstakingly translated these, and that it's disrespectful of me to skim through them so perfunctorily, then I can pretend to read them for a while longer. But you know, Jarvis, my educational background simply isn't enough to support reading this kind of thing. All I can do is maintain a good attitude and let the content blow across my cerebral cortex like the wind."
"No, sir. These were not translated by me, but by the Supreme Intelligence."
"Then how good is his translation?"
"Actually, it's quite good. There are no obvious errors, but he deliberately makes the sentences rather convoluted, which makes them inconvenient for you to read."
"So you want me to pick a fight with him?"
"No. I mean these documents are not very good."
"What does 'not very good' mean?"
"They aren't very useful."
"Oh, I get it. The Supreme Intelligence intends to bury me under junk documents so I won't have time to do anything important. But it's fine. Isn't Schiller still here?"
"What I mean is, if you get buried under junk documents and leave all the