Super Detective in the Fictional World

(Thank you to the ally God Divine Nerve for your support of this book)

Luke's indifferent face took on a touch of disgust, wiping his hands with a white handkerchief and muttering under his breath, "Actually a face of oil, what a lack of personal hygiene. So unqualified, you should stay at home and not come out to disgust people."

So saying, he checked his palms again, as if he was really looking to see if there was still dirt on them, and finally threw away his handkerchief, bowing slightly and backing away to the side.

It was only then that a group of men and women noticed Max behind him wearing a cat face mask.

Two of the girls, who should have been exposed to the cosplay community, saw the cat face mask and couldn't help but blurt out, "Bey, Baster?"

A group of people looked at them blankly, "What?"

Well, Max, who was called, was equally confused, and managed to hold back the same "what".

As a New Yorker, she knew of course about the Black Catwoman, but had never noticed that her official name was Bette.

Just like many people today knew about Deathstroke, but didn't know that its official name was the North Pole.

Luke was amused.

He hadn't made the mask for Selena, but rather a pure cosplay product that the turtles had poured out and he'd just picked one up in passing.

Moreover, all those old Baster battle armor that Selena had worn were sealed by her as souvenirs and never given to anyone at all, not even in Luke's hands.

Now that we've entered the nano-armor era, the outlook and structure of the armor is just different from the input parameters of the model.

But I didn't expect that there were actually cosplayers here? He looked at the two girls with amusement, only to find them pale and trembling.

In full view, the only small cloth on one of them was instantly wet, and a large, distinctly smelly yellow liquid churned down her legs.

Luke froze and looked at the system panel: well, yes, the two girls were indeed yellow-neutral normal people.

So why should they be afraid of the black catgirl, or even pee on the spot?

The first thing you need to do is to get your hands on a newborn child. I didn't mean to do it, she taught me to do that."

Luke:?

Max: ??

A crowd of men and women:?

Only the girl who also shouted "Best" with her changed color, and then ...... also peed.

Sensing that her partner was trying to shift the "blame" to her, the latter one subconsciously shrugged it off first.

She raised a hand to point at the next one, one of only two left: "It's Barry, he's the one who made me and Nina go as Black Catwoman. He's rich and powerful, so we had to agree. Actually, Nina and I are normal, never had masochistic tendencies, Barry made us do it."

The girl who peed first was even more timid and nodded her head incessantly without thinking when she heard her plastic best friend's words, "Yes, Barry made us do it ......"

Luke held up a finger and gently placed it in front of his lips, signaling for these two to shut up.

If he listened any longer, he was terrified he'd cripple these two idiot women as well.

It was personal freedom to cosplay whoever you wanted, but to bring up something so disgusting over and over again was just mindless.

Of course, this Barry they were talking about was the one who had started it all.

And Barry is the one who tried to make a move on Max, the star of today's party, the owner of the yacht, the "heart" of the second generation.

Luke's icy gaze fell on Barry.

Coincidentally and inevitably, this Barry was a big red name.

Good, in a few days this one would be able to go about his second life in peace - there had been a shortage of purely abused male f**king students on the logistics support team of Space Two.

Ophelia (Madame Viper, proficient in nanotoxins) has no interest in getting men into her bed, but enjoys torturing men in tricks for psychological gratification.

Since this Barry is so good at it, let's send him for a good time.

But not tonight, and not in front of Max fucking.

The baker had no desire to dabble in superheroes, she preferred to live like most people, and it would be better if she lived like a rich man.

Aside from improving her health to avoid the lack of stamina needed to make the cake, Luke didn't give her the rest of the treats of having superhuman powers anymore.

So tonight would only be a clash of normal limits.

After all these years of not playing the face-slap game with Rich, if he decided to do it, it would be a painful one.

Slapping was a very civilian option anyway, and the most injured security guard present would only be recuperating for a month or two at most.

It was the easiest option to have him go out missing with Barry, the young master, afterwards.

Luke gave Max a look that said, "Act fast, or I won't be able to act.

The first thing that came to light was that Max was barely able to make the set that he had been practicing for five minutes.

Luke asks "who is it?" and she launches her "death stare" at Barry.

The chosen "lucky spectator" then tries to jump overboard, but Luke grabs her by the neck, pulls her back from the guardrail, and swings her around in front of the crowd.

The sound of the slap and the crash of the slap and the crash of the slap and the crash of the slap sounded like a series of drum beats.

Then Luke woke up the other two "sidekick" dudes that Max had signaled to be involved in her coercion with another big slap.

After forcing them to strip Barry naked and tied him up, and stuffing his boxers in his mouth, he faked a trip into the cabin.

When he came out, he had two leather beaters and a cell phone in his hand.

Tossing them to his two sidekicks and holding up the phone, Luke ignores the desperate stares of his three co-stars and gives the director's command: "All right, action!

The two followers looked at each other, and after a moment still gritted their teeth and held up the leather beat: better to aggravate a brother's ass than to aggravate his own face!

Besides, if we don't do it, they'll get annoyed and do it themselves, and Barry will only be worse off.

Well, that's right, Brother Barry, we're all doing this for your own good. As they thought this, they swung their hands down heavily.

Slap, slap, slap, slap!

The sound of beating is louder than a slap, accompanied by director Lu's occasional "on-the-spot command": "Harder, no food?".

"The look on your face, you have to show you're enjoying it."

"Looks like Barry wasn't too happy with your "service", so give him another hundred strokes."

"Yeah, that's it. Shed tears of excitement and it'll be impactful."

Ten minutes later, Luke jumped off the yacht with Max and landed directly on a motorboat that was remotely parked next to him and left in a huff.

A group of people on the deck looked at each other, and no one dared to say anything for a moment.

Luke just said for them to stay put and whoever moves will be the next male (or female) lead.

Looking at the still-mouth quadrupeds, buttocks lying on the deck silent tears of the first male lead Barry, no one wants to be the second.

And a few hundred meters out on the motorboat, Max finally harrumphed and laughed, "Oh, baby, I love fucking you to death."

Thinking about the look on Barry's face earlier, and the little video on her phone, she was so happy that she voluntarily turned her head and mua~ed Luke.

Luke chuckled lightly, "Satisfied?"

Max: "Yeah, I'm so fucking satisfied."

Luke: "Then it's your turn to make good on your promise when you get home, until I'm satisfied."

Max: "Wait, even though I said casual, I don't want you to be casual like Barry."

Luke: "Huh?"

Max begged, "How about just mean it?"

Luke: "...... you guess?"