"Is Chief Stacy also interested in the weapons developed by Orange Industries?"
Seeing George Stacy looking as if he wanted to say something but couldn't quite bring himself to, Luca casually asked as he walked toward the corner of the building.
It wasn't an unreasonable question.
As mentioned before, ever since the Battle of New York, large quantities of Chitauri weapons had been left behind in Manhattan.
As a result, New York had recently seen several violent crimes involving alien weapons.
The damage caused by these incidents was obviously far beyond that of the petty criminals they'd dealt with before.
Earlier, he'd used the Dominator to blow up a truck. Though the so-called company prototype officially listed in the records was merely a failed high-energy particle gun that had once served as the Dominator's Core Component,
to anyone who didn't know the truth, a portable weapon with such firepower clearly had a lot of promise.
George Stacy awkwardly shook his head.
"Uh, that's not it. I'm very impressed with your company's products, but procurement isn't something I can decide on my own."
George Stacy did indeed have considerable authority as head of the NYPD.
But weapons orders had to be reviewed by various departments within the NYPD, including finance, auditing, and logistics. The final decision even had to go through the New York City Mayor's Office.
Not to mention the tedious procedures that followed, such as bidding and budget allocations. At most, he had a little say in the matter.
Still, Chief Stacy didn't keep him guessing. After explaining the issue with the equipment, he continued.
"As for the truck driver you... injured, our investigation found a large amount of alcohol in his system. He'd clearly been drinking continuously while driving."
"What? Does Chief Stacy think this was an accident?" Luca asked, a hint of amusement crossing his face.
"No, no. In fact, the results showed that most of the alcohol in his body was still in his stomach and intestines. It hadn't even had time to be fully absorbed. So we suspect the driver was trying to use drunkenness to cover up his crime."
"My personal assessment is that this was most likely a premeditated attack."
Shamira rolled her eyes. It was obvious. Did he really need to spell it out so solemnly?
Chief Stacy paid no attention to her expression. He kept his eyes on Luca and continued speaking.
"As for your claim that the attacker might be connected to your uncle, Mr. Dragan Orange, we can't confirm that yet. But the police will do everything we can to find the real culprit and bring him to justice."
"So I hope Mr. Orange will continue to cooperate with our investigation."
Luca raised an eyebrow, then handed him his business card.
In fact, Luca had already given the police Shamira's number earlier at the station. Offering his own card now was a way of showing George Stacy that he had his respect.
"Then I'll thank you in advance, Chief Stacy, for helping me get justice."
George Stacy hesitated briefly when he saw the card held out to him, then accepted it and took his leave.
Watching him head back toward the station, Luca couldn't shake the feeling that George had hurried out to see him for more than just this.
The reason Luca had chosen to report the incident and cooperate with the police, even going so far as to mention his uncle Dragan, was that he wanted the police to get involved and flush out the person pulling Dragan's strings from behind the scenes.
Yes, though he still didn't know who the attacker was, he'd already decided to hold his cheap uncle responsible.
Otherwise, Luca couldn't believe it was just a coincidence that he'd been in a car accident right after Dragan had provoked him.
And if it turned out Dragan hadn't arranged the attack?
Then he'd be killing two birds with one stone. The NYPD would be the ones spending their time on it, so he had nothing to lose.
After George Stacy left, the company had already sent another car to wait outside the station.
Once inside, Luca leaned back against the seat, feeling exhausted.
Between the funeral and the car accident, the whole day had worn him out.
In fact, with his mother Gina in the hospital these past few days, Luca had spent nearly all his time there looking after her.
On top of that, he'd had to arrange his father's funeral, so he'd put many things off for the time being.
Now this had happened too. He had a feeling his life wasn't going to be peaceful anytime soon.
"By the way, Aunt Shamira, have the things I ordered arrived?"
"Young Master, I had them prepared yesterday. But because today we had to... well, arrange your father's funeral, I had them stacked in the living room for now."
Luca nodded, then glanced at the new prosthetic Tony Stark had given him.
Or rather, at the pale blue panel floating above it.
Before, those "Core Components" only brought up the Synthesis Panel when he touched them, so they didn't affect Luca at all otherwise.
But this mechanical prosthetic was attached directly to his arm, which meant it was always in contact with him.
Luca had no idea how to dismiss the panel, so the glaring pale blue display kept following his arm wherever it went.
It didn't have any collision volume, and its translucent appearance didn't block his vision.
But the glowing white arm and the conspicuous pale blue panel kept tempting Luca to reach out and tap around, as if he could operate something.
"I need to synthesize this thing as soon as possible. Why does this eerie glow make it feel so creepy?"
With that thought, Luca checked the "Synthesis Materials" listed on the panel and spoke again.
"Aunt Shamira, sorry to trouble you again. Please contact the company's logistics department and have them send five different models of grappling-hook guns, and five small hydraulic transmission rods, each under fifty centimeters long."
Luca paused briefly.
He wondered what the Synthesis Panel would consider a "micro Medical Device."
"Mm, also order one each of a medium- and low-frequency therapy device, a microwave therapy device for the shoulders and neck, a laser and infrared moxibustion therapy device, and a magnetic therapy bracelet. They all need to be the smallest models available. The specific strength, functions, and brands don't matter."
Shamira was puzzled, but she carefully wrote down everything Luca had asked for.
Ever since his father had passed away, Young Master Luca had been working hard to research and tinker with all sorts of strange things.
He'd also gathered quite a lot of materials and equipment.
And it wasn't all for nothing. At the very least, the remarkable pistol he called the Dominator was something he'd crafted on his own without her knowledge.
Shamira didn't understand scientific research, but she knew all too well how incredible that weapon had been during testing.
In her eyes, Young Master Luca was now a super-genius researcher, every bit as brilliant as her late employer.
So even when Luca asked for odd materials, she never hesitated to get them ready.
After all, a genius's world was always hard to understand.
Just as Shamira thought that was all the young master wanted this time, Luca glanced at the last item listed under "Synthesis Materials" and spoke again in an even tone.
"Also, get me ten different models and sizes of vibrators!"
"????"
Before you continue