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

The white space in the training ground has not yet returned to its default state.

Scattered on the ground were fragments of the blue-purple armor of the simulated physical fitness system, spiderweb cracks left by WarGreymon's stomping, and the floor gaps that Wanda had cleaved when she chased Pietro—all restored to their original state.

"Why can't I hit it?"

Drax slapped it, and the bubble pierced through his palm and flew out the other side.

No one cares about him.

Everyone's attention was still focused on the discovery they had just made...

The fatigue bubble that Coulson released was struck by Pietro's speed force arc and transformed into a concept weapon capable of shattering the Kang Absolute Defense Seat.

Jane and Tony had been hunched over the projection screen for five minutes, watching the data scroll by faster than Niagara Falls itself.

And the one who contributed the raw materials for fatigue.

Peter Quill crouched in the farthest corner of the training field, hugging his knees with both hands and burying his face in his arms.

He didn't say anything and remained silent for about half a minute.

That's enough.

Star-Lord's voice wasn't loud, but because the acoustic reflection of the training ground was excellent, everyone present could hear it clearly.

He walked to the center of the arena, stopped, and looked down at the rusty iron sword of causality in his right hand.

The rust on the sword blade gleamed with a dark red luster under the light, and the hilt was soaked with sweat, the grip marks so deep they were almost embedded in the wood.

Star-Lord stared at the sword for two seconds, then raised it above his head and slammed it to the floor.

clang!!

The sound of metal striking the ground was deafening, and the rusty sword bounced twice.

It spun and glided a long way before finally stopping at Coulson's feet.

"Huh? What's wrong?"

Even Thor was awakened.

"I quit."

Star-Lord's voice echoed in the empty white space, mixed with panting and something that had been suppressed for a long time.

"Listen carefully, I said, I'm quitting."

He turned to face everyone, his chest heaving violently.

"From the time I reached 7 stars in the Bet 7-star battle until the end of the simulation battle, what tactical role did you assign me?"

No one answered.

"A humanoid battery," Star-Lord said, taking the bait himself.

"No, batteries also need to be charged."

"I'm a disposable battery. After swinging my sword three times, I need to get Coulson to slap me to keep me alive. After that, I need to eat a Senzu Bean to restore my stamina."

"What did you just discover? The fatigue from my sword swings was ejected and, if struck by Pietro's lightning, it could be turned into a conceptual grenade."

Star-Lord held up three fingers and broke them one by one.

"So my new role is... swinging sword, getting hit, and generating bubbles."

"Swinging a sword, being slapped, producing bubbles."

"Infinite loop".

He lowered his hands, his arms hanging limply at his sides, and his shoulders slumped.

"I'm the captain of the Guardians of the Galaxy, not a family planning product manufacturing machine on an assembly line."

As soon as he said that, Darcy covered his mouth on Tyrannomon's shoulder.

Rocket opened his mouth as if to say something, but Groot pressed his shoulder down with a tree branch.

"Do you know what it feels like to swing that broken sword?"

Star-Lord's throat began to tighten.

"With each strike, something is pulled out of my bones. It's not fatigue, it's not pain, it's like my whole body is being hollowed out."

"My head was buzzing, all I could see were white dots, and I could taste rust in my mouth."

"When I finished the third sword strike, I could barely stand. It was Coulson who slapped me and pulled me back from the brink of death."

"And then what did you say?"

He tilted his head and smiled.

His smile was ugly.

"It works! It works completely!"

"The three of them worked together flawlessly!"

"While you guys were discussing how to mass-produce the concept grenade, did anyone ask me even once, 'Quill, are you alright?'"

The air in the training field seemed to freeze.

Jane's hand stopped on the projection screen, her ten fingers hovering in mid-air without falling.

Tony turned around, his expression gradually cooling from its excited state.

"Captain of the Guardians of the Galaxy?" Star-Lord smirked. "Fine, from now on, whoever wants this title can have it."

"You be the Rocket."

"Gamora, you can do it too."

"Drax, forget it, you're no good."

"Anyway, I'm going on strike."

He plopped down on the floor, braced himself with his hands behind him, and craned his neck to look at the crack in the ceiling caused by the Tyrannosaurus Beast's impact.

hum!

A holographic projection suddenly popped into the air in the center of the training field.

That was a high-resolution screenshot.

The scene shows Star-Lord at the very moment he finishes swinging his third sword...

His eyes rolled back, his tongue dangled from the corner of his mouth, and his whole face was contorted into an expression somewhere between constipation and possession.

The way he held the sword in his right hand was extremely bizarre, and the angle of his body's tilt was comparable to that of the Leaning Tower of Pisa.

"Jarvis's high-speed photography capabilities never disappoint me."

Tony walked around the projection screen, put his hands in his pockets, and tilted his head to examine the ugly photo.

"A classic moment captured at 10,000 frames per second, the glorious moment of the captain of the Guardians of the Galaxy."

"Delete it!!!" Star-Lord's face instantly turned a deep liver color.

"Backed up to cloud mode, sir." Jarvis.

"You lousy AI..."

"Quill." Tony crouched down, looking Star-Lord, who was sitting on the ground, at eye level.

"Your speech just now was quite moving; I almost cried."

"but……"

He pointed a finger at the ugly holographic photo.

"You're the captain of the Guardians of the Galaxy, not a Hollywood guild actor, not a spoiled brat!"

"Who are you calling a giant baby?!" Star-Lord sprang up from the ground.

"Afraid of pain, afraid of being tired, and giving up at the slightest grievance."

Tony stood up, half a head taller than Star-Lord, and looked down at him.

"Three months ago, I was in that run-down cave in the Middle East, wearing a tin can full of armor, facing hundreds of AK-47s. Guess if I complained?"

"You have a transformation belt!"

"Before the transformation? That pile of Mark I scrap metal, one RPG shot and it'd be turned into a baked sardine."

"I ran out wearing it because I had no other choice."

Tony raised his chin.

"You don't have any either."

"Unless you're planning to sit on this floor and wait for the Transcendent Kang to lead his army of 40,000 variants to flatten the Central Court, and then, holding your rusty sword, say, 'I'm on strike, please go around me.'"

Star-Lord gritted his teeth, and the rise and fall of his chest gradually subsided, but his fists remained clenched.

Just as the two were at an impasse, a hand reached out from the side and handed them a can of soda.

Li Ang.

I don't know when, but he slipped out from behind the counter to the edge of the training field, carrying a plate of nuts in addition to a soda.

"Are you thirsty, Mr. Quill?"

Li Ang shoved the soda into Star-Lord's hand, his tone flat and indifferent.

"Your dissatisfaction is perfectly reasonable; nobody wants to be a tool."

Star-Lord paused for a moment, then instinctively took the soda.

"But have you ever thought about something?" Li Ang picked up a roasted nut, threw it into his mouth, and chewed it twice.

"Your current weakness isn't your tactical positioning, it's that you're too fragile."

"The causality effect of the Iron Sword is top-tier; it allows you to kneel down and catch a blade head-on, ignoring shields and distance."

"The problem is that you have top-tier weaponry, but only basement-level physical abilities."

"The fact that you were exhausted after just three sword strikes is not a problem with the sword, but with the person wielding it."

Star-Lord's mouth moved as if he wanted to retort, but he couldn't.

"Darcy just shattered Kang's shield and simulation with a Gaia energy cannon. Is she exhausted?"

"She rides on WarGreymon's shoulder; Greymon is her extension."

"Pietro traveled through the time barrier to the Cretaceous period. Although he returned in a sorry state, his speed force was still there; he just needed to practice controlling it."

"And you?"

Li Ang tilted his head.

"You have the strongest crowd control weapon in the game, but you can't hold on to it."

"There are two solutions."

He held up one finger.

"First, continue to be the battery, relying on Coulson and Senzu Bean to prolong life, living at the limit of the Three Swords for the rest of his life."

"second……"

The second finger is held upright.

"Drawing gashapon capsules."