The Marvel Cinematic Universe. A non-sacred timeline.
The Continental Hotel, Penthouse.
"Boss, there's a new assassination mission. Two million dollars. Would you like to consider it?"
A blonde beauty with a fiery figure, dressed in a professional pencil skirt like a secretary, stood before Shiranui Hayate. Her tone was calm and steady.
"Oh? Two million dollars. That's not a low price."
Hayate sat by the window, a square glass of whiskey in his hand. He slowly averted his gaze from the scenery outside and turned his focus to the woman speaking—Hotaru.
"Tell me the details first. Then I'll decide whether to take a job worth two million."
"You know me," he added. "I'm picky about my targets. By the way... is the target Black?"
"No, he's not."
Hotaru shrugged. "Hayate, you've basically become the 'Black Assassin' at this point. Some of the African-American hitmen here at the Continental have quite a few opinions about you."
Hayate toyed with his glass, his voice turning ice-cold and serious.
"In this life, I hate two kinds of people most: racists, and Black people."
"If those bastards have a problem with me, tell them to come for a chat. I'll send them exactly where they belong."
Seeing his intensity, Hotaru simply shrugged as if to say you're the boss.
"The target for this new bounty is John Wick," she continued. "The client wants him dead as soon as possible. The amount is two million. Interested?"
John Wick.
Hearing that name, Hayate's thoughts drifted to a distant memory.
The man who decimated an entire mob syndicate over a single dog.
Is his story finally beginning?
He glanced at the photo in Hotaru's hand, confirming the face. It was definitely him—no mistake, no coincidence.
Hayate swirled the amber liquid in his glass, took a calm sip, and spoke flatly:
"The price is too low. I won't take it."
"Why?" Hotaru asked, curious.
"You entered the business late, so your intel isn't complete," Hayate explained. "John Wick was once the top hitman in the world. Before he retired, he was a living legend in this industry."
As Hayate spoke, Hotaru gained a clearer picture of the man on the list. She nodded. "Then the price is indeed too low."
She looked at Hayate, her eyes filled with curiosity.
"Lord Ninja... compared to you, how does he fare?"
Hayate offered a thin smile.
"He and I are not killers from the same world."
Though he didn't say it outright, his confident tone and indifferent attitude made it clear: he didn't consider John Wick to be on his level.
"I'll go see if there are other tasks better suited for you," Hotaru said, her eyes shimmering as she dropped the subject.
"Go on."
With Hayate's permission, she turned and left the room, heading toward the mission hall.
Watching Hotaru leave, Hayate turned back to the world outside the window.
My name used to be Kazuma, and I came from Blue Star.
It happened while I was playing the Naruto mobile game. I was trying to pull the new character card, Jiraiya (Mount Myoboku Hero). After being scammed by the developers and realizing I had spent 3,000 bucks without completing the character fragments, I was literally so enraged I dropped dead on the spot.
Then, I was inexplicably reborn into this world.
Though this planet is also called Earth, it is entirely different from the one I knew.
The massive Stark Industries advertisements in Times Square are unmistakable. The tabloids are constantly covered with the latest Playboy girls throwing themselves into Tony Stark's arms.
This is the Marvel Universe. Or, as Hayate saw it, a world wearing a Marvel skin but filled with all sorts of American cinematic chaos.
When his past life memories first awakened, Hayate found himself in a filthy New York alley, dressed in rags. He looked like an orphan or a runaway kid.
As for the Naruto mobile game that killed him, it had transformed into a "Golden Finger" system within his mind.
The catch? It was just as annoying as the real game—constantly "Loading..."
Eventually, Shiranui Hayate was adopted by an assassin couple from the Continental. They began training him to kill when he was only six years old.
The training was brutal, especially for a child they had simply picked up. It was merciless.
If it weren't for that loading system in his head acting as his motivation to endure, he probably would have died during the process.
During those years, his young hands were quickly stained with blood.
An innocent child might have been brainwashed into a perfect tool, but he was a soul from modern China. That previous life had given him a foundation of kindness that was now being systematically dismantled and rebuilt.
He tried to run away once, but his young body and the unawakened system led to a miserable failure and severe punishment.
After that, he stopped trying. If you can't change your fate, you might as well learn to excel in it.
Under their tutelage, he grew rapidly. He mastered everything: disguise, combat, tracking, marksmanship, and even the science behind the kill.
He never knew a normal education. He wasn't like a certain Bourbon-drinking detective who got adopted by a military big shot.
However, a professional assassin often knows more than a top student; the knowledge is just more... lethal.
On his eighteenth birthday, the damn Naruto system finally finished loading.
That same year, he "graduated" as a killer. He kept the name Shiranui Hayate, inheriting the surname of his adoptive parents.
Even though he ended up "sacrificing" them, he fulfilled their expectations, becoming a high-ranking hitman within the Continental.
Since he was already a registered professional under the High Table before the system even woke up, he saw no reason to change careers.