Hearing the balding old man's words, Goku had a sudden realization.
"Oh! Did you guys find this Dragon Ball?"
He looked at the Seven-Star Ball, then back at the researchers.
"If you did, I'm willing to give you money to buy it from you."
The Dragon Balls didn't belong to any one person forever. Every time the Eternal Dragon fulfilled a wish, they turned into stone and scattered across the globe.
It took a full year for them to regain their luster. In Goku's mind, whoever picked one up could be considered its temporary "owner."
If this balding old man had truly found the Seven-Star Ball, Goku felt it wouldn't be right to just snatch it away.
That would be no better than a common bandit. However, he had plenty of experience in these matters.
Method One: Buy it. Many people preferred cold, hard cash over a decorative orange sphere.
Method Two: Trade a favor. Back when he traveled with Bulma, they often performed tasks or helped people in exchange for their Dragon Balls.
Method Three: This was a technique Grandpa Dumbledore had taught him.
According to Dumbledore, one should simply reveal how many Dragon Balls they already possessed.
Apparently, there was a high statistical probability that the other party would hand theirs over upon seeing the set.
Dumbledore had added that if one used the Legilimacy spell while showing them, the success rate would skyrocket.
Goku didn't quite understand the logic behind it, but Grandpa Dumbledore had said he'd "understand when the time came."
For now, he decided to stick with the first method: a fair purchase.
"Money?" The balding researcher's mouth twitched.
"This isn't a matter of money. The object you're trying to take cannot be measured by mere currency. Furthermore, that glass you just shattered was crafted from the most expensive specialized polymers on Earth. Even if those gold coins you left are real, they wouldn't cover a fraction of the cost. I suggest you stop resisting and prepare for interrogation."
The researcher had no idea what the "crystal ball" actually did, but he knew its value was astronomical. On one hand, tests had confirmed it contained a unique energy signature beyond modern science.
On the other hand, Director Nick Fury treated it with the same level of obsessive security as the Tesseract housed in the New Mexico facility.
"Is the glass really that expensive?" Goku looked back at the shards, genuinely surprised.
But then, he remembered something. He scooped up his gold coins and pointed a finger at the debris on the floor.
"Reparo!"
Under the influence of the Mending Charm, the glass shards acted as if time were flowing backward.
They leaped from the floor, fused together, and smoothed out until the specialized casing was perfectly intact, exactly as it had been before the punch.
Grandpa Dumbledore had given him a rule of thumb: In a city, if you break something cheap, pay for it. If you break something so expensive you can't afford it, just use magic to fix it.
"There! The glass is fixed," Goku said brightly.
"Since you don't want money, is there anything else I can help you with? A favor maybe?"
Goku was ready to move on to Method Two.
Meanwhile, the room fell into a stunned silence.
The researchers stared at the pristine glass case with looks of pure, unadulterated disbelief.
How?
Why did the shattered pieces move like that?
What did the boy do?
For a group of materialist scientists, Goku's magic was a direct assault on their understanding of the universe.
However, these were SHIELD scientists.
They had seen things that would make an average person faint. Usually, such things could be explained away by advanced science.
They convinced themselves that this was simply a technology they hadn't studied yet.
Their fear quickly turned into a predatory academic hunger; they looked at Goku the way a starving gourmet looks at a five-star meal.
"Don't move! You're surrounded!"
At that moment, the SHIELD Rapid Response Team finally stormed the lab. They fanned out instantly, training their high-tech rifles on the small boy in the center of the room.
Goku didn't even blink at the black muzzles pointed at him—weapons that would turn a normal person's legs to jelly. At his current level of power, these things wouldn't even sting.
"Rumlow! Grab him! He's the intruder! Arrest him now!" the balding researcher shouted, his voice cracking with excitement.
This was the STRIKE team, the most powerful tactical unit in SHIELD. They were the elite of the elite, equipped with the agency's most advanced gear.
Their leader, Brock Rumlow, was a combat specialist whose skills rivaled the agency's top-tier field agents.
Surely, regardless of the boy's "parlor tricks," he was no match for a professional hit squad.
Once the boy was secured, the researcher planned to petition the Director to study the child's "restoration ability." Plus, the boy clearly knew something about the "crystal ball."
Grab him? You lab-coat idiots have no idea, Rumlow thought to himself, his jaw tight. He kept his weapon leveled but didn't give the order to fire. He merely maintained the perimeter.
On the surface, he was a loyal SHIELD team leader. In reality, he was a high-ranking member of HYDRA. He knew exactly who this boy was—better than Nick Fury did.
This kid had single-handedly annihilated a specialized HYDRA battalion and ended the life of the "Strongest Mutant," Magneto, whom Baron Strucker had worked so hard to manipulate. If his team opened fire now, they wouldn't even be an appetizer for this kid.
"Target has not shown aggressive intent," Rumlow said into his comms, playing the role of the disciplined soldier.
"Awaiting Director's orders before engaging."
HYDRA's current directive regarding Goku—the boy who could turn into a mountain-sized ape and summon a wish-granting dragon—was simple: Let Nick Fury handle the risk.
Once SHIELD did the heavy lifting and gathered all the pieces, HYDRA would simply step out of the shadows and take the prize.
This was why they hadn't completely dismantled Fury yet. Sometimes, the "One-Eyed King" was a more efficient tool than they were.
Just as Rumlow finished speaking, Nick Fury's frantic voice crackled through his earpiece:
"Rumlow, stand down! Lower your weapons! Do NOT attack that boy! I'm on my way!