Negaduck could hardly deny it: he was as overly dramatic as Darkwing. The theatricality of this plan was just as thrilling to him as striking fear into the hearts of his cronies.

"I don't have anything to fight with," Max whispered, the noise traveling easily throughout the cavernous bin.

"Here," Gosalyn said, bending down and pulling out a knife from her boot.

"Do you always have weapons on you?" Max asked, taking the knife and looking at Gosalyn incredulously.

"Of course," Gosalyn said, pulling another knife from her other boot and tossing it from one hand to the other. "That's Negaduck Rule Number One. 'Always make sure you're armed.'"

"Rule Number Two," Negaduck growled, looking over his shoulder at the couple, "is shut up."

Max's eyes darted down to the knife he was now holding. If the lighting was better Negaduck was sure he'd see the kid's cheeks reddening. Gosalyn flashed Negaduck the "okay" gesture and gave him a wink before tossing the knife up and catching it in midair.

And to think. They were the future of St. Canard's safety.

He wasn't sure if that was more frightening or the fact that he, Negaduck, Lord of the Negaverse and Public Enemy #2, would be policing the multiverse. Definitely the latter. Gosalyn had been training for this her whole life and had become extraordinarily competent at crime fighting. Max had a natural talent for combat; the finesse in vigilantism would come in time.

Negaduck, though. He wasn't ready for anything like this. Sure, he'd become a criminal boss for the Negaverse and arranged crimes for all his minions on a regular basis. Sure, he was used to maintaining order and enforcing his rules.

But diplomacy. Compromise. He wasn't built for that.

To Tony's point, maybe that's why there had to be three of them. Negaduck would fit comfortably into the enforcer role. Posiduck knew all about politics and how to fairly hand out punishments. Darkwing would definitely be the good cop amongst them. He, for all his faults, at least knew how to talk to people.

Sort of.

Not really.

Damn, they were all in over their heads on this one.

He should have spoken up when he had the chance back in the Tower. He'd been so preoccupied with Darkwing. Giving him a purpose, something to fight for even when Gosalyn wasn't around so there was no possibility of Darkwing ever going dark again. He hadn't considered all the ramifications. What this meant for him. All that he was now responsible for.

Something in the safe door gave a dull clang, which resonated throughout the bin. Negaduck crossed his arms over his chest and arranged his face in a scowl. Gosalyn stilled behind him, but she wasn't inactive, still twirling the knife between her fingers. Max, on the other hand, was completely still, barely even breathing.

The door swung open, light from the office spilling into the bin. The treasure below him glittered and sparkled. The faces of the Fearsome Four were gradually revealed as the door opened fully, their expressions of excitement immediately dying at the sight of him.

God, he loved this part of villainy.

The striking fear.

He was so good at it.

"What," Negaduck said slowly, drinking in how their faces drained of color, how they shrank back, how absolute terror spread over their features, "the hell do you think you're doing?"

None of them said anything, just kept staring at Negaduck as if he had materialized out of thin air before them. Which, for all intents and purposes, he might as well have.

"It was Quackerjack's idea!" exclaimed Megavolt, pointing at the toymaker, a spark of electricity flashing out of his fingertip.

"Oh, that's very nice," sulked Quackerjack, looking at Megavolt as he crossed his arms, his toy stethoscope dangling from around his neck. Clearly, he was the ringleader here. As he always had been. Negaduck had hoped Bushroot would have been made of sterner stuff to counter the manic jester, but it didn't appear so.

Negaduck was to blame for this at the end of the day; he'd been the one to push Quackerjack to return to toy making. He was probably looking for more funding. Perhaps Negaduck should arrange a few heists for him after the holidays (far away from Duckburg) so he could get the money he needed.

"Throw me to the wolves while the rest of you get off scott free!" Quackerjack bemoaned, a scowl darkening his features.

"None of you are getting out of this one," Negaduck growled, enjoying how his low voice resonated around the bin, the sound waves rippling down his spine, causing his own feathers to stand on end. He couldn't imagine what effects it was having on those four losers.

"But, since I'm out of my jurisdiction, Gosalyn has convinced me to let you all go." Negaduck grabbed his machete, using the blade to clean underneath his fingernails. "You won't see any justice here."

The Four all looked to Gosalyn, their expressions turning from petulant to shocked as they surveyed her.

"Happy holidays!" Gosalyn said cheerfully and Negaduck bit back a smile. God, he loved this girl. "Don't try to do anything else illegal, and I'll let this one slide since, technically, nothing was stolen." She glared at them, pointing her knife in their direction, the blade catching the light beautifully. "Right?"

"No, nothing!" Bushroot assured her.

Gosalyn shrugged, throwing the knife into the air and catching it. "Then I'm cool. As long as you don't do it again."

The four glanced at one another before all of them scrambled back, disbelieving in their good luck.

"However," Negaduck purred, "back in the Negaverse," he paused his nail care to glare at each of them in turn, "where I'm in charge," he pointed his machete at them, "all bets are off."

Liquidator shrunk down until he was half his usual size. Megavolt and Bushroot recoiled and Quackerjack swallowed.

"Get out of my sight," Negaduck snarled, hurling the machete towards them. They clamored away, trampling over one another in their efforts to leave the bin.

Negaduck grinned as he went to yank out his machete from the wall, where it had embedded itself into the wood. Hopefully Scrooge would forgive him that since his fortune was safe.

"Wow," Max breathed, his voice echoing. "That's more money than I ever thought I would see in my whole life."

Negaduck turned to look behind him, finding Max and Gosalyn peering down into the cavern of gold, jewels, and bundles of dollar bills. They hadn't had much light to see the hoard properly before, but now they had the full light of the office illuminating the innards of the bin.

A mighty roar shook the bin, Negaduck glancing out the office window to see the dragon soaring down over the Fearsome Four, who were scattering in all directions. They'd never plan a heist on their own again. At least, not for awhile.

Satisfied, Negaduck made his way back into the bin.

It was an impressive sight, the huge myriad of wealth accumulated in one place. Negaduck remembered well how staggered he had been when he had first laid eyes on said hoard all those years ago. When he and Gosalyn had only just started their partnership.

What a difference these years had made.

He knew about the secret hatch in the roof of the bin and even had the combination to get inside. (He wasn't stupid, he knew Scrooge would have the thing recalibrated so that a new combination would be in place tomorrow.)

He was standing inside the very vault that all criminals only dreamed of seeing. It was the Everest of the criminal underbelly. What's more, he, Negaduck, had Scrooge McDuck's blessing to be here.

Stepping closer to the edge of the platform, he, too, looked down at the wealth accumulated below as he sheathed his machete.

It had grown since he'd been here last. The gold coins glinted enticingly, warmed by the light filtering in from the office behind him. Rare jewels sparkled, the refracted light projected around them in a multi-colored kaleidoscope. There were wads of cash lying in piles and burlap bags that were filled to bursting.

Negaduck reached forward and gripped the railing as he leaned down, hungrily taking it all in. His eyes darted all over the chamber, expertly finding what pieces were the most valuable and calculating how much of it he could carry. Numbers flashed through his mind, the amount getting larger and larger as he analyzed how much a few handfuls of the treasure would be worth.

He clutched the railing, the cold metal biting into his feathers.

Then.

He let go of the railing.

Stood straight.

Turned away.

Reached out.

And wrapped his arm around Gosalyn's shoulders.

"Let's head back," he said. "C'mon, Max."

Gosalyn returned her knife to her boot before leaning into Negaduck's side, her arm snaking around his waist as he led her out of the bin.

"How much do you think this is all worth?" Max asked, lingering over the treasure trove for a moment longer before turning and following Negaduck.

Squeezing Gosalyn's shoulder, Negaduck softly said, "Not that much."

Gosalyn grinned, tightening her grip around his waist as she explained, "I've heard that Scrooge is estimated to be worth one multiplujillion, nine obsquatumatillion, six hundred twenty-three dollars and sixty-two cents."

Chump change.

Negaduck had walked out of Scrooge McDuck's money bin with the most valuable thing in there.

And the old miser would never know.