I control the AI empire thanks to the geniuses in my group.

Chapter 4: The Gaze at the Ceiling of Human Intelligence!

[Note: You may return to the present timeline only after fulfilling the wishes of your group members.]

What?

Can I only return after fulfilling my wish?

Go to hell with this crappy group!

Shouldn't you have told me about something this important beforehand?

Just like a ruthless, unscrupulous businessman!

Before Su Zhou could finish complaining, his vision went black.

He felt as if he had been stuffed into a high-speed washing machine, his body spinning and his internal organs churning.

The whole process lasted about five seconds.

But in those five seconds, Su Zhou felt as if he had experienced death and rebirth.

"Cough cough cough!"

Su Zhou's body touched the ground. He bent over and coughed violently, barely managing to steady himself by bracing his hands on the edge of a table.

He discovered that the phone he was holding had not been brought with him.

Su Zhou raised her head.

I saw a dimly lit office.

The heavy oak desk was piled high with documents and ledgers, and shelves on both sides of the wall held various metal samples and scales. In the corner, a small fireplace flickered, warming the whole room.

The air was filled with a mixture of smells of ink, candles, and metal.

The sound of a carriage rolling over a stone road came from outside the window, along with the distant chimes of a bell.

Tower of London!

Su Zhou's eyes widened.

I really time-traveled here?!

Just as he was lost in thought, a deep voice sounded from behind him.

"Who are you?"

Su Zhou suddenly turned around.

A thin, angular middle-aged man stood up from his chair, his right hand already reaching for a paper cutter on the table.

He was wearing a dark long coat, and his white hair was curly.

Su Zhou met his eyes.

Even in middle age, after years of suffering from insomnia and mercury poisoning, his eyes still carried a kind of oppressive feeling that made people instinctively want to back away.

This is a gaze that belongs to the ceiling of human intelligence.

Su Zhou was rooted to the spot by that gaze, and even her breathing slowed down.

Su Zhou quickly raised his hands to indicate that he posed no threat and said, "Mr. Newton, it's me, from Group 42."

Newton paused, his hand holding the paper cutter still.

He frowned slightly, as if processing the information.

"...A warrior who endures eagle training?"

Newton estimated that the automatically translated name in the chat group was all wrong in tone, sounding like someone chanting a spell.

Su Zhou felt embarrassed.

The feeling of using a screen name was even more humiliating than he had imagined.

Fortunately, Newton didn't investigate the meaning of his online name, otherwise he wouldn't have known how to respond.

"Yes, you're in group number 42. Just call me Su Zhou," Su Zhou reminded him.

Newton slowly put down the paper cutter, his eyes never leaving Su Zhou.

"Su, are you from the East?"

Newton stared at Su Zhou's face, his gaze sweeping from his black hair to his black pupils, and then back to his face, his eyes showing undisguised surprise.

"You look very young."

Su Zhou didn't want to be looked down upon, so she didn't tell the other person her real age, only saying, "Easterners tend to look younger."

Newton glanced at Su Zhou, who was about the same height as him, and nodded: "Easterners are indeed different from us. I originally thought you were British."

Su Zhou was taken aback: "Why?"

Newton said, "When we communicate, your vocabulary and grammar are almost flawless, just like a native Londoner."

Su Zhou recalled that it seemed to be the automatic translation function in a group chat.

Fortunately, his actual English level is not bad.

While other children were still playing in the mud, his mother had already started bombarding him with English picture books.

From ear training to phonics, his mother's English education policy has only one core idea.

English should be taught from a young age, so that children will at least be able to understand academic papers in the future.

Over the years, it has been effective.

At least he wouldn't translate "not being close to women" as "I AM A GAY," "a wealth of talent" as "985 and 211," or "the whole family was wiped out" as "family=0."

As for the accent... it has a slight trace of Chinglish, but it definitely doesn't affect communication.

"My mom started teaching me English when I was three years old," Su Zhou explained.

Newton seemed unaccustomed to this kind of friendly conversation. He turned his head, glanced at the table, and said, "I received your message saying you'd be here soon."

"But I didn't expect you to arrive so quickly."

"This group chat..." He shook his head.

"No matter how long I use it, I can never fully understand how it works; it doesn't conform to any of the laws of nature that I know of."

Su Zhou was extremely curious.

He knew he was on a group chat screen on his phone, but what about Newton?

There are no smartphones in this era.

Electricity hadn't even been invented yet.

"Mr. Newton, I've always wanted to ask, how do you communicate with us?"

Newton did not answer, but instead gave a demonstration.

He picked up a quill pen, dipped it in ink, and wrote a line on the open page of his diary: "Von Neumann, are you there?"

Su Zhou leaned closer to take a look.

In the blink of an eye, the line of text slowly disappeared from the paper, as if it had been absorbed by the paper.

Su Zhou's eyes widened, and then new words began to appear in the blank spaces of the diary.

[Yes, what's wrong?]

Su Zhou: ...

A QQ group for diaries?

Therefore, this group number 42 will automatically adapt to the most commonly used communication medium of that era based on the era in which each group member is from.

That was a group chat on his phone.

For Newton, it was a diary.

This is so high-end.

Newton closed his diary and turned to Su Zhou.

His gaze fell on Su Zhou's school uniform.

He wore a blue and white striped tracksuit jacket with the school emblem printed on the chest, dark blue school trousers, and gray sneakers.

In China, this would be considered the most ordinary student attire.

But in 17th-century London, Su Zhou's attire was quite unique.

Newton's brow furrowed habitually: "What are you wearing?"

Su Zhou looked down at his school uniform: "School uniform is... the uniform that the school provides."

"That's too conspicuous," Newton said bluntly. "If someone saw you dressed like that at the mint, I'd be asked a lot of questions I wouldn't want to answer."

As he spoke, he walked out of the office, had someone bring him a clean, small-sized coat and shoes, and then tossed them to Su Zhou.

"Put them on."

Su Zhou caught the coat, unfolded it, and was astonished to find that the fabric of the 17th-century men's coat was as stiff as cardboard.

He struggled to put it on, and gave up after only fastening the top three buttons.

The shoes were a little too big, but Su Zhou tried taking a few steps and thankfully they didn't fall off.

Newton looked him up and down and said, "Not bad, passable."

Su Zhou had no objection.

It's better to dress like this than to be treated as an oddball and to have a lot of support from others.

"You said you have a way to help me?"

"Yes, Mr. Newton..." Su Zhou was about to explain when he was interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Knock knock knock".

A young clerk in a mint uniform pushed open the door and said respectfully, "Mr. Newton, someone has come to apply for a job."

Newton's expression instantly turned cold.

"Let him in."

A moment later, a man walked in.

He was about thirty-five or thirty-six years old, of medium build, and wearing a decent-looking coat, much better than the one Su Zhou was wearing.

His eyes are very sharp.

The moment he entered, his gaze swept across the entire office: the documents on the table, the scales, the metal samples, the tools by the fireplace, before finally settling on Su Zhou. He paused briefly, then turned to Newton.

Newton frowned and said coldly, "You were here before."

The man maintained his smile: "Yes, sir, you have a good memory; it was just two weeks ago."

Newton gave him a cold shoulder: "I told you, you are not suited for the position of supervisor."

After he finished speaking, he raised his hand and pointed to Su Zhou beside him.

"He is already my supervisor."

Su Zhou: "???"

When did he become Newton's supervisor?

However, if you could put Newton's supervisor on your resume, it would probably be quite a sensation.

The man's gaze shifted to Su Zhou, and the smile on his face froze for a moment.

An Eastern boy who looks to be in his teens became Newton's supervisor?

He pursed his lips slightly, then said, "Mr. Newton, you've forgotten that Parliament sent me here."

Newton snorted.

"I am the supervisor of the mint, and I have the right to decide who serves as the supervisor. The people in the council cannot control me."

"What about the factory manager?"

"Factory manager, ha, the factory manager has many jobs, how can he have time to manage the mint? You can have him come and talk to me." Newton raised his head, as if he didn't take the factory manager seriously at all.

The man paused for a moment, then said, "Well, Mr. Newton, in that case, I must be frank. I'm here today for more than just the position of supervisor."

He took a step forward.

"I heard that you are investigating a man named Mr. Chandler."

The air suddenly became quiet.

Su Zhou could clearly feel the muscles on Newton's face tense up.

"Do you have any leads?" Newton asked somewhat anxiously.

The man smiled.

"A clue?" The man tilted his head. "Mr. Newton, I already gave you the clue."

Newton asked hesitantly, "What do you mean?"

"When I came to apply for the job last time," the man said slowly, "your people had me fill out a supervisor application form."

"Name, address, past experience," the man recited one item at a time, "I filled it all out truthfully, every single word is true."

My information was on your desk two weeks ago.

He spread his hands.