Dear Carl,
I'm quite interested in your bar in Queens. Perhaps a million dollars is a fair price.
Three days from now, I'll be bringing some people over to discuss the details.
I trust you won't turn me down. After all, you wouldn't want any… unfortunate accidents, would you?
New City, Queen Street.
It was already late at night, but under the dazzling neon lights, this city seemed even more vibrant than in the daytime.
Inside a luxurious high-rise apartment
Carl sat on the couch, gripping a letter tightly in his right hand until it crumpled into a ball.
"Seriously… someone like that trying to threaten me?"
With a scoff, he tossed the letter aside and picked up a finely crafted wine glass.
Taking a slow sip of wine, his eyes drifted toward the glittering cityscape outside.
"What a beautiful view," Carl murmured.
Twenty-four years ago, Carl had arrived in this world.
As he grew older, he learned that this city was called New City.
At first, he thought he'd simply ended up in some foreign metropolis across the ocean.
That was… until he saw the Steve Rogers Memorial Museum.
Yes, Captain America.
Anyone with even the faintest knowledge of Marvel would immediately realize what kind of world this was.
A dangerous one.
Aliens, superheroes, supervillains…
A world filled with powerhouses. Even gods from ancient myths and legends walked among men.
But at the same time, it was fascinating, after all, the Marvel Universe was home to a vast array of heroes and stories.
And Carl… didn't come alone.
He brought with him a Check-In System.
A classic cheat device in many transmigration tales.
But his version was a bit different from what you'd find in those cliché webnovels.
Carl's system allowed him to check in at various locations each day,
But more importantly, it let him accumulate check-in time.
He could preset a check-in duration, one year, two years, whatever he liked.
When the time ran its course, he would instantly receive the reward.
The longer the check-in period, the greater the reward.
After receiving baby formula two days in a row as rewards, Carl made a decision he'd later half-regret:
To check-in at New City… for 25 years.
As of now, Carl had been checked in for 24 years.
The result? He was still a perfectly normal human being.
Well, black hair, black eyes, absurdly handsome, and ridiculously wealthy… technically a normal person.
After arriving in this world, Carl had been adopted by a wealthy bachelor in his fifties.
Carl Smith.
That was the name given to him by the old man.
A bit odd for someone of Asian descent, sure, but out of respect for the man who raised him, Carl kept the name.
Years later, the kind old man passed away. His estate, worth billions, had already been legally transferred to Carl.
It included several properties, two bars, and shares in a few companies, including one of his own.
Once Carl realized this was the Marvel Universe, he spent several years managing his assets wisely.
First, he sold off his inherited company and most of his stock holdings,
Converting everything into liquid cash.
Then, he invested selectively in familiar names:
Stark Industries, Hammer Industries, Pym Technologies, Oscorp…
Iron Man, Iron Man's nemesis, the original Ant-Man, and the original Green Goblin.
These were the few companies he remembered from watching Marvel back in his previous life.
Thanks to those decisions, Carl's wealth multiplied tenfold within just a few years.
Now, he was worth several tens of billions.
As for the letter he tossed earlier, it had somehow appeared in one of his bars without warning.
The signature at the bottom: Wilson Grant Fisk.
The name might sound unfamiliar at first glance.
But his alias? Kingpin.
Yes, Carl knew exactly who that was.
One of Marvel's top-tier villains. Known as the "Emperor of the Underworld" in America. A big deal.
Maybe some people hadn't heard of him.
But his enemies were well-known:
Spider-Man, the friendly neighborhood hero of Queens.
Daredevil, Punisher, even the X-Men and the Fantastic Four had crossed paths with him.
His underground dealings had drawn the ire of many heroes.
And now, for whatever reason, he had his eyes on Carl's bar.
Truth be told, Carl was still an ordinary human. Sure, he'd trained in martial arts from a young age…
But he was no match for someone like Kingpin.
Still, having your bar forcibly bought out? That was pushing it.
Carl never planned to sell the two bars he inherited, even after liquidating most of his assets.
They were his personal sanctuaries. A place to unwind.
And now some crime lord wanted to muscle in?
Carl wasn't entirely defenseless, though.
He had already tracked down Peter Parker, a student at Midtown High.
Still a normal kid, not yet bitten by the mutated spider.
Carl had been keeping an eye on Peter, intending to get to the spider first.
He genuinely admired Spider-Man… but in times like these, sentiment had to take a backseat.
At first, he hadn't been in any rush regarding the spider incident.
Just a backup plan, really.
But now, with Kingpin's sudden appearance?
That option felt less and less reliable.
The only thing he could count on now… was his system.
Carl glanced at the clock.
11:55.
Just five minutes away from the 25-year check-in completion.
He had waited a quarter of a century for this.
If the reward turned out to be garbage, he might as well sell the bar and be done with it.
Maybe even hire some supervillains to assassinate Kingpin.
Or bide his time and take revenge later.
He raised his glass, waiting in silence.
"Silver Superman?"
The mechanical voice echoed in his mind. Carl's body trembled slightly.
Silver Superman!
The 25-year reward had finally arrived, and it didn't disappoint.
As a transmigrator, Carl knew exactly what this meant.
Silver Age Superman.
The version of Superman from DC's Silver Age.
Way more powerful than the modern version.
He could sneeze a star out of existence, move entire solar systems, absorb magic, eat Kryptonite raw, blow out the sun, travel through time and space…
All the usual Superman abilities, and then some.
Silver Age Superman might not have been the strongest ever, but he had the highest potential.
Because he had no limit.
In the middle of a fight, he could randomly gain a new power.
With this reward in hand, Carl no longer needed Peter Parker's mutated spider.
No point stealing it.
Better to leave it to the rightful future Spider-Man.
And as for Kingpin?
Let him come.
Carl would be waiting.