c1: Marvel and Mercenaries
At ten o'clock at night, New York City even under the cover of darkness remained the city that never sleeps, a place that had already endured events like the Battle of New York in another timeline and was destined to face countless superhuman conflicts.
Neon lights illuminated everything, casting a dazzling glow that reached even into the night sky.
A tall, handsome man in a black cloak flew low through the air, gliding between buildings at a height of barely a hundred meters. His speed was astonishing, yet no one noticed him, as if he had perfectly merged with the shadows—an ability reminiscent of stealth-based operatives like Black Widow, though far more unnatural.
In this New York stood a towering landmark: the headquarters of Stark Industries.
The man gazed intently at the building; this wasn't the first time he had seen this iconic structure, a symbol of technological supremacy driven by Tony Stark.
But no matter how many times he saw it, the building and its owner constantly reminded him that this was no longer his previous life, it was the perilous Marvel Universe, a world filled with super-soldiers, mutants, and gods.
If he were merely an ordinary person without power, he would have already chosen to stay far away.
After all, New York in the Marvel Universe was not a place for normal people; it was a battlefield disguised as a metropolis, where organizations like S.H.I.E.L.D. secretly monitored global threats while hidden enemies like Hydra lurked in the shadows.
And even if ordinary people managed to survive daily life, they still had to pray that one day they wouldn't be erased by a cosmic catastrophe like the infamous snap of Thanos, the Mad Titan who sought balance through annihilation.
Fortunately, he was no longer ordinary in this life.
He had awakened the Void System from League of Legends, granting him the terrifying ability to absorb and evolve through any form of energy.
The man continued flying before eventually descending in Brooklyn, landing smoothly in front of a luxurious manor.
He used a key with practiced ease and stepped inside.
At that moment, his phone vibrated rapidly.
He took it out and glanced at a series of new messages:
"Grim Reaper, after deducting the five percent processing fee, the remaining funds have been transferred. Looking forward to our next cooperation."
"Dear Mr. Harvey Ambellaca, Zero Technology Company has transferred 14.25 million to your account."
"Your current balance is 163.24 million."
Harvey Ambellaca smiled faintly at the sight of the numbers.
In his previous life, he had been Chu Wei, an ordinary Chinese man. In this life, he was Harvey Ambellaca an orphan who had grown up in a modest orphanage under the care of a kind director.
Two years ago, everything changed when he awakened the Void System, gaining powers similar to Kha'Zix of the Void allowing him to become invisible in darkness, cut through steel effortlessly, and possess extreme agility and strength.
More importantly, he could absorb energy to evolve endlessly.
In a world like Marvel, where even enhanced humans could die in collateral damage from battles involving beings like the Hulk or Thor, power meant survival.
So instead of hiding, Harvey chose to embrace it.
He needed money and quickly.
With his ability to remain unseen, he could infiltrate any location at night. He could have robbed banks or the wealthy, but that would draw the attention of agencies like the FBI or even S.H.I.E.L.D.
Instead, he became a mercenary.
He accepted any mission, as long as the price met his expectations. Depending on the task, he could be called an assassin or a bodyguard.
After more than two years, his wealth had grown rapidly. He owned multiple manor villas, had access to anything he needed, and had even donated one million to the orphanage to repay his past kindness.
In the darkness, Harvey's vision was sharper than in daylight.
He walked into the living room, turned on the lights, poured himself a glass of wine, and opened a shady mercenary website on his tablet.
The site listed missions: assassinations, protection contracts, sabotage operations.
Harvey considered most jobs except those targeting Asians or certain military figures.
He understood the hidden structure of the world: governments, militaries, and elites often required deniable assets to handle their dirtiest work. Mercenaries like him were the perfect tools.
As he browsed, a particular mission caught his attention.
Travel to Afghanistan in one month. Target: a protected military figure. Reward: ten million minimum, up to fifty million.
Harvey immediately recognized the timeline.
Glancing at the date 2008, he knew exactly what this mission implied.
This was the event that would lead to Tony Stark's capture and eventual transformation into Iron Man.
Even without explicit details, the reward alone proved its danger.
Many desperate mercenaries would take it, hoping to retire after one successful mission.
But Harvey had no intention of interfering.
Instead, he began thinking about insurance policies for his properties.
Because he knew what was coming.
Once Tony Stark became Iron Man, New York would soon face escalating threats from advanced weapons to alien invasions and chaos always meant opportunity.
Harvey had already prepared: buying shares in Stark Industries, investing in real estate, and securing extensive insurance coverage.
When destruction came, he would profit legally—collecting payouts while others suffered losses.
The only inconvenience would be temporarily relocating to another city.
Thinking of the massive profits ahead, a faint smile appeared on his face.
He ignored the Afghanistan mission and continued browsing.
Then, a private message appeared:
"Mr. Death, we have a specific mission for you."
Harvey's expression turned thoughtful.
Specific missions were rare, usually reserved for elite mercenaries with proven records and they often came with extraordinary rewards.
The assassination of a high-ranking Afghan official he had just completed an operation carried out in a region long entangled with covert actions involving groups like Ten Rings was a deal worth twenty-five million.
"Since you've contacted me, you should know the price for having me handle this, right?"
Harvey replied.
Meanwhile, on the other side,
a bald Black man wearing an eyepatch Nick Fury, director of S.H.I.E.L.D saw this response and noted that this "Death" hadn't even asked about the mission details, instead going straight to the price, revealing an air of absolute confidence, even arrogance.
Nick Fury had, of course, already conducted a thorough investigation before initiating contact.
In the mercenary world, no one knew the true identity of the man codenamed Death, nor what he actually looked like; only a few facts were widely accepted.
Two years ago, Death emerged seemingly out of nowhere, always cloaked in black, only accepting missions with bounties exceeding ten million, and displaying abilities that went far beyond human limits something Fury knew could not be explained by ordinary means, even in a world that had already seen anomalies like the Super Soldier Serum and gamma mutations.
Bounties exceeding ten million dollars represented extremely dangerous assignments, often involving life-and-death stakes.
Many mercenaries, even when operating in teams, could not guarantee success and often faced catastrophic failure.
After all, such missions could involve confronting heavily armed forces, infiltrating fortified compounds, or extracting intelligence from locations guarded with military-grade security operations not unlike those monitored or occasionally intervened in by S.H.I.E.L.D. itself.
Even Fury, with all the intelligence assets at his disposal, understood how difficult such missions could be.
Yet Death was different.
No matter the scale or complexity of the mission, he completed every single one flawlessly.
Regardless of how heavily guarded the target was, how many soldiers were deployed, or how tight the security net had been cast, once Death accepted a contract, the outcome was always the same.
The target would die mysteriously in the night, and any related intelligence would vanish without a trace as if erased by some unseen, supernatural force.
It was no exaggeration to say that in just over two years, Death had become a legend across the entire mercenary underworld.
There was even a saying circulating among mercenaries: if Death accepted your bounty, you could simply wait for the result.
It was precisely this reputation combined with rumors of abilities that resembled superpowers that eventually reached Nick Fury's ears and sparked his interest.
Fury had wanted to meet this man for a long time.
However, despite deploying significant intelligence resources, even S.H.I.E.L.D. was unable to uncover any deeper information about Death beyond the surface-level rumors.
The only known method of contact was through the black network, and even that came with strict conditions: a starting price of twenty million dollars, with no upper limit depending on mission difficulty.
Once Death accepted, a ten-million-dollar deposit had to be paid upfront.
Twenty million US dollars not some inflated or worthless currency.
Even for S.H.I.E.L.D., mobilizing such funds required navigating layers of bureaucracy, securing approvals, and drafting convincing operational justifications.
Moreover, Fury was fully aware that mercenaries were not known for loyalty. Double-crossing was always a possibility.
However, that assumption only held when both sides were evenly matched.
Facing an unknown individual with potentially superhuman abilities someone who could accomplish impossible missions without leaving a trace deception was not a risk Fury was willing to take lightly.
Still, Fury had his own plans.
If he could use this opportunity to advance the Avengers Initiative and potentially recruit or at least establish contact with this Grim Reaper-like figure, then even such an enormous price would be justified.
After preparing the funds, Fury did not immediately initiate contact.
It was only tonight after receiving confirmed intelligence about the mysterious death of a high-ranking Afghan official, with all signs pointing to Death as the executor that Fury finally made his decision.
He reached out through the dark network.
"Of course I understand, and I don't know if what I'm about to say will offend you."
"However, before explaining the specific mission and price, we hope to discuss it with you in person."
"Because the bounty I'm about to issue is somewhat special."
Fury hesitated briefly before sending the message.
Then, he waited.
The origins of Death remained completely unknown, largely because he never appeared anywhere except the dark web.
"As long as the money's there, time and place are fine."
Harvey did not hesitate and replied immediately.
"Then tomorrow at 3 PM, meet at this location. Any problem?"
Seeing the response, Fury quickly sent a map location one that led directly to Washington, D.C., not far from key S.H.I.E.L.D. operations.
"Sure."
Harvey's eyes flickered slightly when he saw the location, but he agreed without hesitation.
...