Chapter 24: Give Me Ten Vibrators (Third Update)

"Is Captain George also interested in the weapons developed by Orange Industrial?"

Watching George Stacy’s hesitant expression, Luca casually asked as he walked toward the corner of the building.

His question was not without reason. It had been mentioned previously that due to the massive amount of Chitauri weaponry left in Manhattan following the Battle of New York, there had been several violent crimes recently involving alien tech. The damage caused by these incidents was clearly on a level far beyond the petty crimes of the past.

Although Luca had used the [Dominator] to blow up a large truck, the item officially registered as a "company prototype" was merely a failed high-energy ion gun that had once served as a core component for the [Dominator]. Yet, to those in the dark, such a portable, high-powered weapon clearly held promising prospects.

However, George Stacy shook his head awkwardly.

"Er, that’s not it. While I do think highly of your company's products, procurement for equipment isn't something I can decide on my own."

Even though George Stacy held significant authority as the NYPD Captain, issues involving weapon contracts required audits from the department's finance, logistics, and oversight divisions, with the final approval resting in the Mayor’s office. Not to mention the tedious procedures of bidding and fiscal appropriation—his position as Captain gave him little more than a suggestion.

Nevertheless, Captain George didn't beat around the bush. After explaining the equipment issue, he continued, "The truck driver who was... injured by you, according to our investigation, had a high concentration of alcohol in his system. It’s clear he was drinking continuously while driving."

"Why? Does Captain George think this incident was just an accident?" Luca asked, a playful glint in his eyes.

"No, no. In fact, the investigation shows that the alcohol was mostly in his stomach, not even fully absorbed yet. We suspect the driver was using the alcohol to cover up his crime. My personal assessment is that there is a high probability this was a premeditated, malicious attack."

Samira, standing to the side, rolled her eyes. Did they really need to have this obvious point reiterated so solemnly?

Captain George ignored her, keeping his gaze fixed on Luca. "As for your assertion that the mastermind might be related to your uncle, Mr. Dragan Orange, we cannot confirm that at this stage. However, the police will do their utmost to find the true culprit and bring them to justice. Therefore, I hope Mr. Orange will continue to cooperate with our investigation."

Luca raised an eyebrow and handed over his business card. In fact, he had already left Samira’s contact information at the precinct earlier; presenting his own card now was a sign that he acknowledged George Stacy.

"Then I thank Captain George in advance for seeking justice on my behalf."

Seeing the card held out to him, George Stacy hesitated for a moment before accepting it and taking his leave. Watching his retreating figure, Luca felt that the Captain’s hurried attempt to catch up with him was about more than just what had been said.

In truth, Luca had chosen to involve the police and mention his uncle Dragan specifically to use the police force as a secondary front to root out whoever was pulling Dragan's strings. He hadn't confirmed the attacker's identity yet, but he was already pinning the blame on that cheap uncle of his. He didn't believe in such coincidences—the very moment the man provoked him, a car accident occurred.

And if it turned out not to be Dragan? He would simply be killing two birds with one stone, wasting the NYPD’s resources instead of his own. He had nothing to lose.

After seeing George Stacy off, a replacement car from the company arrived. Once inside, Luca leaned back against the seat, feeling exhausted. Between the funeral and the car accident, he was drained. In fact, with his mother Gina hospitalized, he had been spending his days at the hospital, and with his father’s funeral to manage, many other things had been pushed aside. Given the recent turn of events, he had a premonition that his life would not be peaceful from here on out.

"Oh, by the way, Aunt Samira, have the items I ordered arrived?"

"Young Master, they were prepared yesterday. But because we had to... well, handle the funeral, I have them temporarily stored in the living room."

Luca nodded, but then his gaze shifted to the new prosthetic limb Tony Stark had gifted him—or rather, to the pale blue interface hovering over it. The previous "core components" only triggered the synthesis interface when he touched them, but this mechanical limb was attached directly to his arm, meaning it was in constant contact.

Luca didn't know how to dismiss the panel, and the glaring light blue screen kept bobbing along with his arm. Though it lacked "collision volume" and its translucent state didn't obstruct his vision, the glowing arm and the distracting panel gave him a constant urge to reach out and tap something.

*I have to synthesize this thing as soon as possible. Why is this glowing light so creepy?*

With that in mind, Luca checked the "synthesis materials" required by the panel and spoke again.

"Aunt Samira, I’m sorry to trouble you again, but please contact the company's logistics department. Have them send five different models of grappling hook guns and five small hydraulic actuators under 50 centimeters."

Luca paused, mentally guessing what the panel would categorize as a "micro-therapeutic device."

"Also, order a low-to-medium frequency therapy device, a microwave neck and shoulder massager, a laser and infrared acupuncture device, and a magnetic therapy bracelet—one of each. They must be the smallest models on the market. The specific intensity and brand don't matter."

Samira looked slightly puzzled but recorded the requests meticulously. She knew that since his father’s passing, Luca had been obsessively tinkering with strange things and collecting all sorts of materials. It hadn't been without results; that magical handgun the young master called the [Dominator] was something he had "whipped up" entirely on his own.

Samira didn't understand scientific research, but she knew the terrifying power of that weapon. In her eyes, Luca was a genius scientist rivaling his late father. Even when his requests seemed bizarre, she never questioned them.

*After all, the world of a genius is always hard to fathom.*

Just as Samira thought the list was complete, Luca checked the final requirement on the panel and spoke in a flat, calm tone.

"Oh, and get me ten different models and specifications of vibrators!"

"????"