"Stop joking around… we should get away from here quickly," Wildcat said, eyeing the shelves of toys warily.
"I'm not joking," I replied, walking forward and picking up one of the race cars. "I've fried their circuits and rendered their internal explosives inert. Now they're just toys. Well—shitty toys that can't even move mechanically, to be accurate," I added with a small chuckle.
"And… how exactly did you manage all of that?" Black Canary asked, her eyes narrowing slightly.
"My suit is very advanced. It can neutralize electronic devices," I answered vaguely. "I was going to do the same earlier, but you screamed at them first."
"…Right," she muttered. "Next time, maybe let us know you can do that before we risk blowing ourselves up."
"Yeah. I will," I nodded honestly.
"…You really disabled all of them?" Wildcat asked, crouching to inspect a few. "You didn't accidentally leave one active, did you?"
"No. Every single one is deactivated. I didn't spare even the cameras and microphones," I said with a grin.
"Heh, impressive!" he said, slapping my back—
—and immediately shaking his hand. "Ow! Is your body made of rocks or something?"
I could only smile wryly.
"But still, there are hundreds of these toy bombs here," Black Canary said, looking around the warehouse. "I completely believe now that he's supplying them to multiple cities. It's also a good thing we had you with us. Otherwise, who knows how much damage these toys could've caused."
I just smiled, hiding the fact that I had seen many more storage rooms stockpiled with such toys. There was really no need to make them unnecessarily worried, as I was going to deal with those later myself.
"We still have to catch Toyman as quickly as possible," I said, steering the focus back to the real target. "He's the source of all this."
"Yeah," Wildcat replied, his grin turning sharp. "I'd really like to get my hands on him."
Dinah didn't say anything, but the look in her eyes made it clear she felt the same.
We exited the warehouse and stepped into another dim corridor, where Toyman's thin, reedy voice echoed around us once more.
"I don't know how you survived that explosion… or what you did in my storage room to deactivate my toys," he said, irritation bleeding into his tone. "But I am done playing games with you trespassers."
"His voice is quite annoying," I muttered, and I was just about to disable the nearby surveillance devices when Black Canary lightly caught my arm.
"Let him talk," she whispered with a faint smirk. "Men like him always get sloppy when they start enjoying the sound of their own voice."
I nodded, understanding her intent, and we continued walking down the corridor.
"Why are you making bombs out of toys?" she called out calmly. "What happens when some kid picks one up thinking it's harmless? Ever think about that?"
A distorted chuckle echoed through the speakers.
"Hehe… you understand nothing," he replied. "Children these days don't like ordinary toys. They want spectacle. They want something louder. Something… bombastic."
Dinah's tone sharpened.
"So you're claiming you're making these for children? Not for the gangs buying them in bulk?"
"I know, Miss, that you're trying to make me talk," he answered with a mirthful laugh. "But I don't mind indulging you. After all… you're walking toward your deaths anyway."
Wildcat snorted in open derision.
"Do you know what this factory was called before it became like this?" the old man asked, his tone lowering.
"Schott's Toy Factory," I replied. Lara had already pulled the building's full history when we arrived.
"Oh? I'm surprised you know that," he said, sounding almost pleased.
"Schott's Toys… I've heard that name before," Black Canary said thoughtfully. "It was a big toy brand, wasn't it?"
A delighted, almost nostalgic laugh echoed through the corridor.
"Hahaha! Yes, yes! We were among the top three toy manufacturers in the country. There wasn't a toy store that didn't carry one of my—William Schott's—masterpieces!"
Dinah gave me a subtle look. I understood immediately—her tactic had worked. He had just handed over his full name without hesitation.
"This factory was only one of many that I owned," Schott continued. "Thousands of toys were produced here every single day and shipped across the country. Children—and even adults—loved them."
"If you were that successful," Wildcat said bluntly, "why'd you end up like this? What turned you into a criminal?"
The warmth vanished from Schott's voice.
"Metahumans," he spat. "Vigilantes. Heroes like you."
He continued, anger creeping in.
"Other toy companies struck deals with these so-called heroes to produce their action figures. I despised the idea of glorifying caped narcissists, but survival demanded compromise. However, by the time I agreed to enter the market, we were already left behind. So we had to take a risk."
He paused briefly.
"We had to partner up with one of the more… controversial heroes. Soldier Boy."
Wildcat let out a low grunt of recognition.
"Even with the scandals surrounding him, he was immensely popular. And his action figures too sold like wildfire. I saw an opportunity to reclaim our position at the top, so I doubled production. And to secure exclusivity, I took massive loans and offered Soldier Boy a lucrative five-year contract. That bastard signed it quite happily—and took every cent of mine without shame."
His tone darkened.
"And then, only months later, he ended up dying. Not only that—every dirty secret from his career surfaced in the media. Every scandal. Every allegation. Every buried crime."
"Well…" Black Canary muttered dryly, "he was a real piece of shit."
"But why the hell was my company blamed when he was the one who did all that?" Schott's voice rose, trembling with fury. "The toys never harmed anyone! But the public needed something to destroy, so they burned them—burned my factories, vandalized my warehouses, assaulted my employees!"
His breathing grew heavier.
"My company went bankrupt within months. I lost everything trying to repay the loans. My family fell into poverty… and my wife…" His voice faltered, dropping into a hushed whisper. "My wife eventually died of depression."
For a brief moment, there was no mockery in his tone—only bitterness.
I was listening to his ramblings sure, but my mind was thinking about the Soldier Boy he mentioned instead.
I knew that name from both of my lives.
In this world, he was remembered as a disgraced hero—his crimes exposed only after his death. The fallout from his scandals had been one of the catalysts for the government tightening regulations around meta-human heroes.
But I also knew him from a show called The Boys in my previous life.
And in that version… Soldier Boy hadn't stayed dead, which meant it could prove true here too.
I also didn't know how much of Schott's story was true and how much was self-serving revision, but Lara's records confirmed that Schott's company had indeed collapsed years ago, and that his wife had died shortly afterward. After that, he had effectively disappeared from public record.
Which only raised a more pressing question—
How did a failed toy magnate evolve into this?
"ARGH!" Schott's voice suddenly erupted with renewed rage. "For making me relive those memories… you trespassers deserve to die!"
The speakers went silent.
BAM! BAM! BAM!
By then, we had reached the end of the long corridor, where a heavy door stood slightly ajar. Violent banging noises echoed from the other side. Combined with Toyman's last words, the sound made my companions hesitate for a brief moment.
I already knew what was waiting inside. So without any fear, I pushed the door open and stepped into the room.
"Balls?" Wildcat said in confusion as he followed me in.
BAM! BAM!
The room was relatively small, and the noise was coming from basketball-sized rubber balls ricocheting violently off the walls in chaotic patterns.
"They aren't normal," I said, stepping forward and catching one mid-bounce.
BAMM!
The impact drove my hand backward, forcing me to take two steps before stabilizing. Even in my grip, the ball strained to spring free, compressing and expanding with unnatural force, but I tightened my hold and contained it.
Suddenly, as if responding to a command, all the bouncing balls shifted trajectory and launched themselves toward us.
"Oh shit!" Wildcat and Black Canary scattered in opposite directions.
BAMMM!
The balls struck the floor and walls with tremendous force, cracking concrete and denting metal surfaces with every rebound.
"What kind of murder dodgeballs are these?" Wildcat yelled as he rolled aside, narrowly avoiding another impact.
Dinah moved with far more fluidity, cartwheeling and pivoting gracefully between the ricocheting projectiles, her movements precise and controlled.
"Lara, can you analyze this," I muttered.
Part of my blue sleeve dematerialized and flowed over the ball in my hand like liquid fabric. In the next instant, a detailed breakdown of its internal structure and composition appeared in my vision.
"The more they bounce, the more kinetic energy they accumulate," I said, watching the readout. "High tensile outer shell, internal momentum amplification mechanism… such clever engineering."
A grin tugged at my lips.
"It's quite a nasty little toy."
I brought my hands together sharply—
CRACK.
The ball collapsed between my palms, its internal framework crushed beyond recovery.
BAM! BAM!
Without wasting another second, I moved through the room at rapid speeds, intercepting the remaining balls mid-flight and crushing them one by one before they could build further momentum.
Within moments, the violent ricocheting stopped, leaving only fractured concrete and settling dust behind.
"Ugh, I always hated dodgeball back in school," Wildcat muttered as he pushed himself up, brushing dust off his suit.
"Thank you, my charming prince," Black Canary said as she walked up to me, tapping a finger against the emblem on my chest. "Should I start calling you Ball Crusher now?" she added teasingly as her finger lowered dangerously close to my pants.
"That sounds more like a villain name than a hero's," Wildcat said with a short laugh.
Before I could respond to their teasing, Toyman's shrill voice echoed through the room again.
"You really enjoy destroying my precious toys, don't you?" he snapped, fury lacing his tone. "Don't worry, I have plenty more for you to play with. I hope you enjoy them… until death!"
SWISH!
At his words, panels in the opposite walls slid open.
Six of the towering toy soldiers from before marched out in formation, accompanied by four enormous mechanical kangaroos wearing oversized boxing gloves. Each of them stood nearly eight feet tall.
"Oh great, more oversized wind-up nightmares," Black Canary muttered, slipping into a fighting stance.
Wildcat's grin widened.
"Heh. I've always wanted to box a kangaroo. Guess tonight's my lucky night."
He rolled his shoulders like he was about to step into an actual ring.
"My Prince Charming, would you be a dear and crush them all at once?" Black Canary said, looping her arm around mine and pressing close, her blue eyes giving me an exaggerated pleading look.
"Ugh… sure," I muttered, doing my best to not let my gaze wander down her cleavage.
"Kid, leave one kangaroo for me!" Wildcat called as he charged ahead.
The mechanical kangaroos advanced with heavy, piston-like hops instead of steps. The one in front of Wildcat swung a massive gloved fist downward, but he slipped to the side smoothly, weaving under the strike before springing upward with a clean counterpunch aimed at its chin.
While he engaged his opponent, I moved.
Rather than meeting the soldiers head-on, I darted behind them speedily, and started disabling them efficiently—removing heads first, then arms, then legs—they all collapsed into harmless heaps of scrap before they could even mount a coordinated assault.
"This kangaroo's tougher than it looks! But I'm not throwing in the towel until the bell rings!" Wildcat declared as he ferociously countered every punch thrown his way.
The mechanical kangaroo's movements were surprisingly fluid, its heavy piston-legs keeping it balanced as it traded blows with him, even it's tail was a lethal weapon.
Then, without warning, the metallic pouch on its abdomen snapped open—
—and a gun barrel slid out.
"Oh, come on!" Wildcat barked, diving to the side as a burst of gunfire tore through the air.
I had been keeping an eye on them the entire time. Before the machine could adjust its aim, I stepped in and drove a punch straight through its torso.
BAM!!
The kangaroo crumpled into twisted scrap.
"Hey!" Wildcat protested, clearly annoyed. "Our match was still ongoing!"
"Let it go," Black Canary said with a sigh. "We shouldn't waste any more time playing along with his circus."
"Trash! Utter trash!" Toyman's furious voice echoed as we exited the room. "I should've wired those scrap heaps to explode instead!"
We stepped into a large industrial hall filled with conveyor belts, mechanical arms, and several massive vats that likely once held melted polymers and synthetic compounds.
"Is this where the toys were manufactured?" Black Canary asked, scanning the area.
"Looks like it," I replied.
Thankfully, no production lines were active and the machines were silent.
Wildcat walked a slow circle, studying the layout.
"This is the last chamber," he muttered. "No exits except the one we came through. Either he's not here… or we took a wrong turn somewhere."
"Not quite," I said, walking toward a far corner of the hall.
I lifted my foot and brought it down hard.
BAM!
A hollow section of flooring shattered inward, revealing a concealed stairwell descending into darkness.