The talkative raven in the world of American comics

Chapter 33: The Strange Old Man

Huff—

A blur flashed across the city, leaving two visible emerald trails before disappearing in the blink of an eye.

Not many people on the sidewalk saw this, because the shadow was moving too fast. It disappeared in less than half a second after the person looked up, leaving only two streaks of green starlight.

But there are always exceptions, and there are always people with sharp eyes who see this scene.

For example, Adrian Tooms, who was once blatantly tricked out of his design drawings by the Osborne Group.

He glared angrily as the green figure disappeared, unable to even utter a roar. Even if he did shout now, no one would care, and he might even be mistaken for a madman and taken away by the police maintaining order.

"Norman Osborn!!!"

Toms felt like he was about to grind his teeth to dust.

He had never hated anyone so much before.

His life's work was stolen and became someone else's achievement, while he can only...

"Hey old man, how much are these toys?"

A young man in a baseball uniform picked up a small toy from the toms stand, played with it in his hand, and found it fascinating.

It looks like a small bird model, well-made, with a small button on its back. When pressed, the toy bird instantly flies up and leaves the palm of your hand.

This change immediately drew gasps of surprise from the young man's friends.

Toms gave them a look that was both satisfying and unsatisfying.

The good thing is that my invention is ultimately useful; otherwise, passersby wouldn't even glance at it.

What's frustrating is that he's been reduced to selling these 'trinkets' just to make a living!

The target audience is still a bunch of young people!?

He should have created products for the whole society, not these "trinkets"!

So he quoted a price: "Fifty dollars."

"How many!?"

"Fifty dollars, no refunds."

The young man looked at the old man seriously for a moment, then suddenly chuckled.

"You're really dreaming! Even the toy stores that collaborate with Osborn aren't as expensive as this!"

"Don't mention Osborne in front of me!" Toms yelled.

"Whatever."

The young man casually patted the small bird that was still hovering in mid-air, then whistled and walked away.

His companions, who were following behind, heard the whistle and, whether intentionally or unintentionally, quickly caught up, stomping their shoes on the little bird that had fallen to the ground, making a crisp sound.

"Stop right there!"

Toms tried to catch up with the group of young men, but he underestimated his own physical abilities and the cunning of the group.

But as soon as he took a step, someone deliberately tripped him and made him fall to the ground. When he turned around, he saw someone overturn his stall, make a face at him, and then hurriedly run away.

"You bunch of bastards!!!"

As the saying goes, misfortunes never come singly; Toms felt he was having the worst luck ever!

I've never been this unlucky!

He should have been in a laboratory filled with instruments worth millions of dollars, enjoying the honors that his research achievements brought him, and living a life that could be described as happy!

Instead of some weird street vendor stall!

Toms suddenly froze.

Because someone helped him up, and he was chatting with someone else at the same time.

"...Maybe so, this movie is a bit exaggerated, but I don't think it's as bad as Gwen makes it out to be... Wait—is it using magnetic levitation technology? Or is it a honeycomb structure skeleton, lightweight while maintaining basic stability... This bird is so cool!"

After Peter helped the little old man up from the ground, he noticed the bird toys scattered all over the ground.

He picked it up with some delight, examined it in his hand, and kept exclaiming in admiration:

"This is absolutely amazing, an active aerodynamic flap... but ordinary materials simply can't withstand its high-frequency deflection... how did you...?"

Peter then realized he should have been concerned about the other person's health first. "Sorry, are you alright?"

Hearing the boy's praise, Toms couldn't help but hum softly and patted off non-existent dust from his clothes.

"It's just a portion of shape memory alloy."

"cool!"

"Shape memory alloys? Shouldn't that be used for more sophisticated structural devices? Why are you using it to make small toys?"

Gwen and Peter picked up all the bird-shaped toys that had fallen to the ground, then picked one up, held it in their palms, and examined it carefully.

She naturally understood what Peter had just said, considering that she was first in physics, while Peter was only second.

"I'd love to!" Toms's face changed in an instant, like the lights in a circus.

Gwen responded with a beautiful eye roll.

Peter, on the other hand, was very interested. He asked, "How much does this cost? I definitely want to buy one and study it carefully!"

"Forty dollars."

"How much?!" Gwen exclaimed in shock. "For something this small, you sell it for less than Lego!"

"It's not like you're the one who bought it!"

After speaking, Toms glanced at Peter, seemingly anticipating the boy's decision.

Peter really wanted to buy it, but forty dollars was not a small amount for a toy, especially a small one.

Despite its excellent craftsmanship and use of technology not found in the market, it still costs forty dollars...

Aunt May's rent bill...

Peter shook his head, put down the bird model with a hint of regret, and said:

"I'm sorry, I really want to buy it, but the price is... I'm sorry."

Seeing the girl keep pulling away her male companion, and the boy's gaze shifting from initial delight to regret, he was about to leave.

Toms immediately shouted, "Wait!"

Peter and Gwen both turned around to look at the little old man who seemed obsessed with making money.

Toms gritted his teeth, making a decision, "Damn it... I'm giving it to you!"

"What?! No, I can't take it. Maybe you can lower the price a bit, then I'll buy it..."

"I said I'd give it to you, so I will. Why are you making such a fuss?!"

Toms grabbed a small bird and threw it toward Peter, not caring whether Peter caught it or not.

Then he swept all the models on the stall into his bag.

Then, under the watchful eyes of the young couple, she simply slung her bag over her shoulder and left.

"Strange old man," Gwen muttered.

"Yeah..." Peter was also a little confused.

Gwen waved her hand, too lazy to bother with such a person, and pulled Peter by the arm to leave.

"Who cares? Where were we? Were we talking about the movie itself or the film critics?"

"Film critics...didn't you say they were raving about this movie before it even started?"

"Yes... but I don't want to talk about that now. By the way, where's Oz? Where did it go?"

"He probably went to steal someone else's fries."