Vanessa: "Isn't that the number from the company and factory?"
Asimov: "No, no, no! Some unqualified constructs will be destroyed. The fact that these codes exist means that the reviewers have determined that they are qualified."
Vanessa: "You mean for me to find those auditors?"
Asimov: "No no no no!..."
Vanessa couldn't stand it any longer: "Can you please get to the point quickly instead of beating around the bush with me?"
Asimov was a little speechless. "That's what I was going to say. Do you know how the troops for this mission were formed?"
Vanessa thought about it carefully. "Are you actually talking about who formed the army? I've also seen the approval process for the troops sent by the top leaders. They were approved by all the higher-ups and are kept confidential. There's only an electronic seal."
Asimov: "It's not an electronic seal. I designed the programming. It needs to be pressed by hand."
Vanessa still didn't understand: "Aren't they all the same?"
Asimov: "You have to understand that humans develop habits. For example, I always like to eat lollipops and stay up late, repeating the same thing every day. So many soldiers have different ways of stamping. Some are used to stamping with their right hand, some are used to stamping with their right hand, and so on."
Vanessa: "But aren't those documents all perfectly round?"
Asimov: "That's auto-correction. You can see the original version through the VR glasses I just mailed you. There's a tutorial inside the VR glasses for you to take a look at. That's all. Bye."
Vanessa looked at the unopened box next to her, and a nameless anger suddenly surged in her heart: "You bastard, you knew this was the way to do it from the beginning, right? You took so many damn detours."
But the phone call had already been hung up. Vanessa was so angry that she almost smashed the table. Then she opened the box, took out the VR glasses, put them on her head, and they were actually no different from ordinary glasses.
Then a woman wearing a white shirt, a black hip skirt and black stockings suddenly appeared on the screen projected in the glasses.
Celica stood in front of the blackboard, holding a pointer, and wrote with chalk in a formal manner: "Now I will begin to talk about the stamping habits of the senior management."
Vanessa's eyes seemed to be raped and she immediately took them off with an ugly look on her face.
Vanessa: "Let Connie do it! He'll probably like it."
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