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"Shopkeeper," Tony started, his voice already brimming with excitement. "Pepper and Happy keep whispering about this little rumor that you've got some kind of fruit sampler. Five minutes of borrowed superpowers, no strings attached. True story or another urban legend?"
He leaned against the counter like he was ordering his favorite cocktail, eyes gleaming with anticipation for a pitch he hadn't even given yet.
Rosh's brow lifted slightly. "It's true."
"In that case…" Tony's grin spread like wildfire. "How about letting me test-drive the Arms-Arms Fruit?"
Rosh gave him a single nod.
That was all the green light Tony needed. His eyes lit up like a kid catching sight of presents under the tree, and his mouth immediately outran his brain. "Perfect. Hand it over before I start shaking from withdrawal for something I haven't even had yet."
"Of course," Rosh chuckled under his breath, then reached beneath the counter and produced a small, ominous-looking fruit sample. With calm precision, he placed it into Tony's waiting hand.
Tony snatched it before Rosh had even fully pulled back, rolling it in his palm as if he were inspecting some fresh prototype.
"Uh, Mr. Stark…" Happy started cautiously, shoulders tense. "Just a little PSA… these Devil Fruits taste like—"
*Shlkk!*
Happy's warning about the infamous taste didn't survive past the first syllable. Tony jammed the fruit into his mouth like a starving wolf lunging at dinner.
"Hhhhmm!?"
His entire face froze. Muscles locked, eyes wide. A man spoiled by Michelin chefs had just discovered the culinary equivalent of a war crime. He slowly turned to Happy with a betrayed look that screamed: 'This. This is the taste everyone's been hyping?'
Happy winced sympathetically. "Yeah, Mr. Stark, that's the stuff. Been there. Devil Fruits taste like regret and bad decisions. But hey, once you finish it, you'll weirdly miss it. Stockholm syndrome, fruit edition."
Tony blinked, forced his jaw to cooperate, and shoved the foul bite down his throat like a man taking bad medicine with worse whiskey.
*Gulp!*
"Well," he croaked, voice raw with disbelief, "that taste really earns the name 'Devil Fruit.'" He held up a finger. "Wait. Waitwaitwait...."
Whatever complaint was about to follow was cut off as his face shifted. Confusion melted into something else.....wonder.
Because in that instant, the change hit.
It wasn't subtle.
Like every person who had ever swallowed one of those cursed fruits, Tony felt it, a spark igniting deep in his body, spreading fast. His chest tightened, breath quickened, every nerve alive.
"Oh… oh, this is wild," he murmured, eyes darting like he was reading invisible schematics in the air. "It's like someone rewrote my body. I've got a weapon manufacturing suite hardwired into my brain. Feels… native. Like a CPU reading a new protocol."
He tapped his temple with two fingers, staring at nothing, lost in the invisible code only he could sense.
"It's integrated perfectly...like a CPU spliced into my brain. And my body… feels like the operating platform running it. I'm basically a modular, living weapons lab."
Then he laughed, a genuine, delighted, slightly manic laugh.
"This is insane. I love it."
Happy leaned in, practically buzzing with excitement. "Well? Mr. Stark? You gonna try making a weapon or what? Because I swear, I've been waiting for this moment my whole life."
Tony's grin sharpened. His fingers twitched like a concert pianist warming up before unleashing a masterpiece. "You read my mind, Hap."
He flexed his hand once, savoring the anticipation. "Alright. Let's keep it simple. First test run… let's make a gun."
Tony focused, eyes narrowing as he pulled on that new, humming sensation running through his nerves.
*Clack-clack-clack!*
His right hand began to shift, plating sliding, joints reforming, flesh reshaping into something mechanical yet organic. Not bolts, circuits, cold machinery, but something alive and seamless, obeying thought as naturally as moving a finger.
And then it was done. His right hand wasn't a hand anymore. It was a gun.
Happy's jaw practically hit the floor. "Holy shit, Mr. Stark! Your hand! It's literally a gun!" His voice cracked with disbelief.
Tony stared at the transformation, equal parts stunned and exhilarated, then raised the weaponized limb with a disbelieving laugh. "Well, would you look at that. Armed and dangerous… again. But this time, fully bio-integrated. No batteries required."
He gave a low appreciative whistle. "Arms-Arms Fruit… you magnificent, horrifying little miracle."
For once, even the man who had built flying armor in a cave out of spare parts found himself short of words. The sheer rawness of it punched through his usual layer of cool sarcasm.
But only for a moment.
"Shopkeeper," Tony turned, eyes gleaming like a kid who'd just stolen the keys to every toy store on the block, "you got a target for me? Because my trigger finger's itching, and this beauty's begging to make some noise."
Rosh gave a slow shrug, his tone almost apologetic. "No targets in here, I'm afraid."
Happy, ever the enabler, pointed to the shop's entrance. "Mr. Stark, there's a tree outside. Big one. Nobody'll miss it."
Tony's grin went sharp and wolfish. "Shopkeeper, you mind if I redecorate your tree?"
"Knock yourself out," Rosh said, casually gesturing for him to go ahead.
Tony didn't need to be told twice. He strode outside, practically vibrating with anticipation.
The tree stood there like an old veteran, its trunk scarred with bullet holes, scorch marks, and countless other wounds from past experiments.
Tony tilted his head at it, sympathy dripping from his tone. "The poor bastard. What did you do in a past life to deserve becoming everyone's favorite test dummy?"
His pity lasted exactly one second.
He raised his gun-hand, exhaled a breath, and squeezed an invisible trigger.
*BANG!*
*THUNK!*
The shot rang out, echoing through the clearing. The bullet slammed into the trunk, leaving behind a neat, smoldering hole that sizzled with smoke.
"Yes!" Tony whooped, stomping his foot like a man who'd just pulled three cherries on a Vegas slot machine. Happy slapped his thigh so hard the smack echoed, his face lit up like he was front row at the best show of his life.
"The Arms-Arms Fruit Rocks!" Tony declared, grinning like he'd just stolen fire from the gods.
*BANG! BANG! BANG!*
Three more rounds barked from his gun-hand, tearing into the poor tree's battered trunk, smoke curling from each fresh hole. He finally stopped, chest heaving with exhilaration, fighting the urge to keep pulling the trigger.
Running back inside toward Rosh, Tony's entire face glowed with adrenaline-fueled joy.
"Shopkeeper, I've gotta say that was, hands down, the coolest thing I've ever done." Then his smile widened into something more dangerous, more Stark. "No. Scratch that. What I'm about to do next? That's going to redefine cool."
He glanced sidelong at Happy, eyes gleaming with that dangerous Stark-brand spark. "Happy, my friend, ready to witness the single greatest thing you'll see this decade?"
Happy nodded so fast it looked like he was trying to detach his own head. "Been ready since breakfast, Mr. Stark."
Tony inhaled, a deep, steadying breath, the kind a man takes right before diving headfirst into insanity. His eyes flared with that unmistakable glow, bright, alive, daring the world to keep up.
"Showtime."
*Clack-clack-clack!*
*Clack-clack-clack!*
This time the sound was heavier. Deeper. Every click and shift carried weight, like an assembly line condensed into one body.
Metal plates shimmered into existence, snapping into place around him in a hypnotic storm. Segments unfolded from nowhere, orbiting him like satellites before slamming together with brutal precision. Each piece locked seamlessly with the next, sealing gaps, reinforcing joints, layering over flesh until skin gave way to steel.
The air vibrated, humming with raw momentum. Sparks of energy danced across the floor as if the atmosphere itself knew history was being rewritten in real time.
And when the last metal plate was sealed, the world went still.
Standing where Tony Stark had been was...
Iron Man.
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Next Chapter: An Unstoppable Perfect Armor
Next Next Chapter: The Iron Monger
Next Next Next Chapter: The Truth Behind Stark's Rescue
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