He was selling gashapon toys in Marvel Studios, and at the beginning, Tony turned into Kuuga.

"What is this? Some kind of miniature bomb?"

Peter was stunned, and reached out to take the thing out and look at it.

"Hahaha! I knew it!"

Tony leaned over for a look and immediately let out a merciless laugh.

"Parker, what you're holding is a high-frequency mosquito repellent!"

"Lucky you? You wouldn't even need mosquito repellent if you went to the African savanna now!"

Peter's face fell.

He was holding that mosquito repellent device, and he felt terrible.

"It really is just a regular spy tool. Looks like my good luck has really run out."

Peter was on the verge of tears.

Nearby, Bruce Wayne paused noticeably when he heard the words "secret agent props".

Wayne rubbed his face vigorously with both hands.

The richest man in Gotham squatted silently in the corner, looking at the hundreds and thousands of ordinary gashapon toys piled up in front of him.

Click.

Voice changer.

Click.

Waterproof lighter.

Click.

Tactical flashlight.

Wayne was like an emotionless gashapon machine, mechanically repeating the same actions.

The spy equipment scattered all over the ground had piled up into a small mountain.

Li Ang watched this scene and laughed so hard his shoulders were shaking.

"Mr. Wayne, don't lose your temper."

"The key to this kind of thing is perseverance."

Wayne completely ignored Li Ang's sarcastic remarks, focusing solely on opening the gashapon machine, the veins on the back of his hand becoming increasingly prominent.

Tony walked over and kicked a pair of bulletproof knee pads on the ground.

"Bat, I think you should just switch careers and open a spy equipment direct sales store."

"Your inventory is enough to arm the entire S.H.I.E.L.D."

"Stark, don't joke around with S.H.I.E.L.D. We can't afford that much equipment right now," Fury rolled his eyes.

Pietro floated over to Wayne's side, picked up a tactical telescope, and took a look.

"Uncle, are you really not considering giving up?" Pietro shook his head.

"Judging from your appearance, even if you sold Wayne Enterprises today, you still wouldn't be able to produce any golden light."

Wayne finally stopped moving, turned his head, and stared intently at Pietro with a frighteningly cold gaze.

"I'm just giving you a suggestion, don't look at me like that." Pietro felt a little uneasy under that gaze and shrank back.

Wayne looked away and picked up the next gashapon capsule.

He refused to believe that money couldn't buy a miracle!

Even if it costs him the entire cash flow of Gotham, he must obtain the power to fight the Joker!

Click.

The gashapon popped open.

There was a black listening device lying inside.

Wayne clenched his fists tightly, and with a snap, the capsule toy shell was crushed.

The audience was silent.

Everyone was looking at Gotham's richest man, who was squatting in the corner.

This scene is so heartbreaking that anyone who hears about it or sees it will be moved to tears.

"Mr. Wayne, a friendly reminder: damage to the gashapon casing will incur a charge of replacement."

Li Ang leisurely finished the last sip of his cola.

"Keep driving!"

Wei stood up, took out a stack of US dollars, and slammed it on the table.

Even if he dies in this gashapon shop today, he has to get the item!

Peter, holding the mosquito repellent, carefully retreated back to Harry's side.

"Harry, I think we should focus on studying the armor instead," Peter muttered under his breath.

"The idea of ​​spending money on in-game purchases is terrifying." Harry nodded in deep agreement.

Tony, clutching his premium gashapon toy, stared warily at Wayne.

"This little bat has gone mad; I need to stay away from him."

As he spoke, he leaned closer to the counter and lowered his voice, "Boss, are you sure you haven't tampered with the drop rates on this machine?"

"I'm a legitimate businessman; I never engage in underhanded dealings."

Li Ang innocently spread his hands.

"It all depends on luck."

In the corner, Wayne twisted open another gashapon capsule.

It's still just a regular prop.

Wayne's face was beyond just black.

All he wants now is to take this damn gashapon machine apart!

But reason told him that he couldn't beat anyone here.

So the Dark Knight of Gotham could only continue to crouch in the corner.

Click.

Click.

The sound of gashapon capsules cracking became the only rhythm in the room.

It was filled with a sense of despair as money was being burned at an alarming rate.

Li Ang changed his glass of juice and leaned back comfortably in his chair.

This is his favorite part.

Watching these self-important superheroes bow down before probability.

This is much more interesting than destroying the world.

The art style of these superheroes has gone down a path of irreversible decay.

He was just a gashapon merchant passing by.

"As long as everyone is happy."

Li Ang raised his glass and toasted the air.

In the corner, Wayne silently crushed the tenth bugging device.

What kind of hellish place is this?!

Wayne roared inwardly, but his hands just wouldn't stop moving.

That's the magic of spending money.

Once you start, there's no going back.

Even if you're Batman, it's the same.

After all, who can resist the temptation to become stronger?

Even if it's getting stronger by spending money.

Wayne picked up the next gashapon capsule, his eyes burning with a final, defiant glint.

He vowed that if he didn't get something good today, he wouldn't go back to Gotham!

Anyway, he has plenty of money!

"One thousand more!"

Click.

It was another sound of a gashapon shell cracking.

Bruce Wayne has lost count of how many this is.

His fingers were rubbed raw and his knuckles were numb, but he didn't care at all.

He didn't even bother to look at it, just mechanically repeating the action of unscrewing, unscrewing, and unscrewing again.

then……

The golden light blew his face.

Wayne froze on the spot, squinting as he was blinded by the sudden, dazzling light.

He slowly lowered his head, looking at the object in his palm that emitted a warm, fluorescent glow.

It's not a bugging device.

It is not a bulletproof tie clip.

It's not a fucking tactical flashlight.

It is an exquisite silver-blue prop.

It has a slender shape and is inlaid with a bright blue crystal at the top, with stars seemingly flowing inside.

The entire structure is seamless, combining a metallic feel with a sense of mystery.

Bruce Wayne's mouth opened, then closed, then opened again.

This is the Dark Knight of Gotham, the ever-expressionless Bruce Wayne.

His facial expression shifted from shock to bewilderment to ecstasy, finally settling into an extremely distorted state of restraint.

It's that kind of look where you want to laugh but try your best to hold it in, your nostrils twitch uncontrollably, and your lips tremble wildly.

He covered half his face with one hand, while the other hand gripped the transformation device tightly, the veins on the back of his hand bulging.

"Fuck."

Wayne uttered the first swear word of the night.

"Oh!" Pietro was the first to rush over, his eyes wide. "Uncle, you struck gold?!"

"impossible!"

Tony sprang up from his chair and rushed over in a few strides.

"etc."

Tony watched it three times, his expression gradually shifting from curiosity to bewilderment.

He turned to look at Steve, then at what Wayne was holding.

"The design, the structure, the crystal..."

Tony's voice rose a half octave.

"Is this thing from the same series as the captain's light stick?"

"Don't tell me this is also an Ultraman transformation device."