Vos stared at the two living cartoon legends standing in front of him. Tom and Jerry looked up at him with big, expectant eyes, as if silently asking, So… what now, boss?
He cleared his throat. "Uh… can you understand me?"
Tom and Jerry shared a glance. Then they both nodded.
Vos nearly jumped. "Holy—okay, that's good. If we can talk, that saves me from a breakdown. I thought I'd need subtitles or something."
Tom pointed around the shabby room, then at Vos, then shrugged. Three simple questions, spelled out clearly:
Where are we? Who are you? And how did we end up here?
Vos took a breath. "Right. So. Long story short… I just transmigrated into this world, accidentally awakened some kind of summoning system, and it brought you two here."
Jerry scratched his head like someone trying to understand quantum physics for the first time.
"I know it sounds insane," Vos sighed. "But that's what happened. And honestly—"
He suddenly yelled, "System! Hey! Get out here and explain yourself!"
Silence.
"See? This stupid system ghosts me the minute it finishes summoning. Zero customer support." Vos threw up his hands. "Sorry, but I'm a victim too."
Tom padded over and gently patted Vos's leg. Jerry hopped to his foot and gave him an encouraging nod.
Vos's chest warmed. "You two… seriously, thank you. As long as you're not blaming me, we'll figure this out together."
Tom and Jerry exchanged a smile and nodded. Strange world or not, having a human ally was better than facing it alone.
Vos suddenly raised his right hand like he was making an oath in a courtroom.
"Listen. I swear, if I have food, you'll have food. You two aren't my pets. We're equals. Partners."
Tom's eyes watered, and he wiped them quickly. Jerry stood straight, moved by the moment.
Then—
Grrrrrrrrrrr~
Tom's stomach growled like a dying lawnmower.
Brrrmmmmm~
Jerry's tiny belly grumbled in reply.
Both froze, faces flushing. Tom rubbed his stomach. Jerry tried to hide behind Vos's shoe.
Vos burst out laughing. "Alright, you're starving. Let me see how much money the original owner left me."
He dug through his pockets.
Left pocket. Empty.
Right pocket. Empty.
Jacket pockets. Empty.
Even checked his socks. Still nothing.
His face went pale. "No way… was this guy broke-broke?"
At last, in the tiny back pocket of his jeans, he found a crumpled bill.
"Jackpot!" He pulled it out triumphantly. Fifty U.S. dollars. His entire fortune in this world.
"Not great, but enough to feed us." He tucked it away. "I'm gonna shower and put on something that doesn't look like a murder scene. Then we'll go eat."
Tom and Jerry nodded eagerly.
Vos walked into the cramped bathroom. The face in the mirror was unfamiliar: blonde hair, blue eyes, decent-looking… except for the blood splatter that made him look like he escaped a crime documentary.
Thankfully, the water was hot.
"Aside from being shot in the head and somehow surviving, this system isn't completely useless," he muttered as he washed.
"But since I'm here, I might as well live. The Marvel world is dangerous, but full of opportunities. And hey—I've got Tom and Jerry."
After cleaning up, he put on the least-worn clothes available: a black T-shirt and jeans. Worn but presentable.
He stepped out with fresh energy. "Alright, partners. Time to explore and grab food."
Tom and Jerry walked beside him as the trio headed out the door.
The hallway was dim, the walls cracked, the air heavy with mold and weird smells. Vos sighed. "Yep. Hell's Kitchen lives up to the reputation."
They reached the first floor. The landlord—pot-bellied, bald, beer in hand—glared at Vos.
"Kid. Three days. Don't forget."
"I know, I know," Vos bowed repeatedly before escaping outside.
The street was busy but bleak. Old buildings. Graffiti everywhere. People who looked like they'd seen everything and cared about nothing. Classic Hell's Kitchen.
"Let's find food first," Vos said. "There should be cheap spots nearby."
A few blocks later, they found a small diner called Mom & Pop's. Clean enough. Cozy atmosphere.
"This'll do." Vos opened the door; a bell chimed.
A friendly middle-aged waitress approached. "Welcome! Table for… one?"
Vos tilted his head toward Tom and Jerry. "They're with me. Not pets. More like… partners."
She grinned. "As long as they don't start a stampede, even a tiger's welcome."
She seated them in a corner booth.
Tom and Jerry hopped onto chairs like seasoned diners, surprising the waitress. She handed Vos a menu.
"What can I get you?"
"Let's go with the signature burger combo, two small burgers, and three colas."
"Coming right up."
Vos leaned in. "You two excited?"
They nodded so hard their ears wiggled.
Soon, steaming burgers and crispy fries arrived. Heaven on a table.
Vos slid the small burgers toward them. "Dig in."
Tom sniffed, took a cautious bite—
BA-DING! His eyes lit up like a slot machine jackpot.
He dove in.
Jerry, refusing to lose, attacked his burger like a tiny piranha, nibbling nonstop.
Watching them enjoy the meal warmed Vos more than the hot food did.
"Easy. Don't choke," he reminded them with a smile.