Chapter 1: Transmigration!
New York City, USA
In a war-torn house, a young man lay motionless across the floor. He had white hair, piercing blue eyes, and a handsome face, though his frame was gaunt and sickly. By all appearances, he had been dead for days.
Suddenly, his chest surged with breath. His eyes snapped open, and he sat bolt upright.
"Didn't I... die?" he whispered, his voice cracking with confusion.
His name was Michael Lionheart. In his previous life, he was a standard 9-to-6 office worker—efficient, reliable, and entirely ordinary. While waiting at a bus stop after a long shift, an out-of-control truck had careened off the road and struck him. That was the last thing he remembered before waking up in this wreckage.
"Where the hell am I?" Michael muttered, squinting through the gloom. The room looked as if it had been smashed by a monster; furniture was reduced to splinters and the walls were riddled with cracks.
"Ouch... damn it..." He tried to stand, but his limbs felt like heavy mud. He could barely feel his extremities, and the parts of his body he could feel were radiating waves of agonizing pain. "What is happening? Ouch!"
He cursed under his breath, trying to shift his weight, but the pain spiked again, sharper than before.
"Aaaaaagh!"~
Michael suddenly clutched his head, screaming as a tide of foreign memories flooded his brain. The mental assault was violent at first, a crashing wave of images and emotions, but slowly, the chaos began to organize. He saw a different life: a family, a childhood of neglect, and a crushing mountain of debt.
"Huff... huff... So! I have transmigrated." Michael panted, sweat dripping from his chin as he processed the memories of his new host.
This body belonged to Michael Thorne. Ironically, his parents had been degenerate gamblers who borrowed from every loan shark and thug in the city. Michael had been their punching bag until they died in a car accident six months ago. The debt, however, didn't die with them.
The gangs had come knocking immediately. Thorne had begged for six months to settle the account. Amused by his desperation, they had agreed, likely knowing he would fail. He had managed to scrape together $600,000—an impressive feat—but the total debt was a staggering $2 million.
Yesterday, the thugs had returned. They took the cash, stripped the house of anything valuable, and beat Michael Thorne until his heart stopped.
"Sigh..." Michael exhaled deeply, a flash of pity crossing his mind. This kid's life had been a tragedy from start to finish.
As he continued to sift through the world's general knowledge, his body began to tremble. It started as a small shiver but quickly escalated into a violent shudder that made him forget his physical injuries. He slammed a fist against the floorboards.
Hiss!~
He winced at the sting, forcing himself to regain his composure.
I'm in the Marvel Universe, he thought, a cold dread settling in his gut. A world of metahumans, monsters, gods, and Celestials.
"Hahaha... honestly, I don't even know what to say," Michael chuckled mockingly.
In this universe, being a normal human was like being a head of lettuce on a cosmic chopping block. Between alien invasions, rogue AI, and purple titans snapping their fingers to wipe out half of existence, a regular guy didn't stand a chance.
"What do I do? I can't stay here," Michael thought frantically. "New York is the epicenter of every disaster."
He looked down at his bruised, broken hands. "But how do I even move? This body is destroyed. I'm surprised I'm even conscious."
At that moment, a sharp electronic chime echoed in his mind.
[Ding! Sign-in System is Activating...]
[Analyzing Host and Condition...]
[Analysis Complete.]
[Ding! System Activated. Daily Sign-in Available. Sign-in now?]
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~# Keep the Chapters coming — Support with Power Stones
~# Every 50 Power Stones = Bonus Chapter