Lucas couldn't hold back his curiosity. He wanted to know just how much those things cost—especially considering how much Spider-Man would eventually use them.
The staffer chuckled. "Curious, aren't you? Well, this storage capsule isn't cheap. The one I'm holding sells for five hundred dollars apiece."
Wha—?!
The entire group erupted in shock. Who would have thought such a tiny thing could cost so much?
Lucas frowned. At that price, how the hell does Spidey afford to burn through them? Did he really build his own from scratch?
The staffer tried to smooth things over: "This is just the initial market price. We're constantly refining the technology, so the cost will go down in the future."
But no one cared anymore. Everyone was too stunned by the price tag—even the rich kids in the group were shaking their heads in disbelief.
The rest of the tour wasn't nearly as exciting. Most of it was Oscorp's other research projects, none of which interested Lucas in the slightest. He'd already seen the main event; everything else was dull in comparison.
When the tour ended, everyone piled back onto the school bus. On the way home, Gwen suddenly developed a fever. She leaned weakly against Lucas, clutching his arm and dozing off the entire ride.
Worried, Lucas went straight back with her to the Stacy home. Seeing Gwen like this, George immediately wanted to rush her to the hospital, but she stubbornly refused. They settled on some fever medicine before Gwen went to bed.
Lucas didn't leave. He couldn't relax knowing she was sick. Luckily, his room was right next door, so he could hear if anything happened.
Thankfully, her condition didn't worsen. The night passed quietly—until the next morning.
"Ahhh!!!"
The scream jolted Lucas awake. He immediately recognized it came from Gwen's room and sprinted over, throwing the door open without hesitation.
Because she'd been ill, Gwen hadn't locked the door.
Inside, Gwen was curled tightly under her blanket, her face flushed red when she saw him burst in.
"Y-you—why are you in here?! Get out!!" she squeaked, flapping her hand at him.
Lucas froze, suddenly remembering he was wearing nothing but boxers. Awkwardly, he bolted back out, slamming the door shut behind him.
Just then, George and Helen emerged from their room.
"What's going on?" George asked, raising a brow. He glanced at Lucas, half-naked in the hallway, then back at Gwen's door. With the scream and the slamming, the picture in his head was obvious. His eyes gleamed with amusement.
"Not bad, kid. You've grown up. But don't you think this is a little… rushed? It's not like I'd say no, you know…"
"Uh… what?" Lucas blinked, baffled.
Helen, meanwhile, gave him a warm, motherly smile. "Exactly. She'll be yours sooner or later, so what's the hurry?"
"N-no, it's not like that—" Lucas waved his hands frantically. Now he got it. They'd completely misunderstood. Sure, the scene looked bad, but he hadn't even seen anything, and they were already handing him Gwen on a silver platter! How the hell was he supposed to explain?
Helen entered Gwen's room, leaving George and Lucas standing in the hall.
"Uh… Dad… I'd better get going. Got work at the office." Lucas mumbled, ducking back into his room to throw on clothes before fleeing out the door.
George could only shake his head with a sigh. His kids really wouldn't give him a moment of peace. Still, the idea of Lucas and Gwen together didn't bother him. They were only siblings in name, after all. Better Lucas than some punk off the street—that was something he and Helen agreed on.
Meanwhile, Lucas finally reached the Devil May Cry office—only to stop dead in his tracks.
The front doors were wide open. But he knew he'd locked them yesterday.
No way…
"Shit—robbed?!"
Lucas sprinted inside, and his fears were confirmed. The place had been ransacked. His computer, the liquor from the bar, crystal glasses—even the paintings on the wall—gone. And these weren't just ordinary items. They were system-gifted, unique to this world.
Rage boiled up inside him.
"You little rat bastard! Out of all the people in New York, you had to steal from me?!"
"System, can you track who took my stuff?"
[Ding~ Tracking function activated. Limited to one use only.]
A minimap appeared before Lucas, with a single red dot moving quickly across it.
"Only once?" he frowned.
[Yes. If the office is robbed again, the host will have to rely on his own abilities.]
"Cheap-ass system. Can't even give me unlimited tracking." Lucas muttered, but he flagged down a taxi and gave chase.
The pursuit took him halfway across New York. Finally, the red dot stopped moving.
Lucas paid the fare, wincing at the cost. Not only had the thief cleaned him out, they'd made him spend a fortune just to chase them down.
"This isn't just theft anymore. It's personal."
Striding into an alley, Lucas found the source: a black van with all the windows tinted dark. The red dot pulsed inside.
He yanked the door open without hesitation.
"Ahh!!"
The thief inside nearly jumped out of her skin, dropping the crystal glass she was holding. She quickly scrambled to catch it, sighing with relief when it wasn't damaged.
"Who the hell are you?! This is private property!" she snapped.
Lucas blinked. He hadn't expected the thief to be a girl—about his age, no less.
"You stole my stuff. Hand it over, or else…"
He pulled out the Ultimate Divine Blade and slammed it into the ground. The sharp edge carved a deep gash into the pavement.
The girl froze, completely stunned. Then she scrambled for a small pistol and pointed it at him with shaking hands.
"D-don't come any closer! I have a gun!"
Lucas didn't even flinch. The tiny weapon meant nothing to him. He stepped right into the van and started gathering his stolen belongings.
The space was cramped, and everything was still there—she hadn't had time to sell anything yet.
"Here's how this is gonna work," Lucas said, plopping into the passenger seat. "You're going to drive. You're going to bring my things back. Or I'll smash every last piece of your precious loot."
The girl glanced back nervously. The massive sword that had been stuck in the ground just a moment ago—was now nowhere to be seen.
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