Manhattan, New York – 2008
In a small, run-down apartment, where dim light barely crept through dusty blinds and a heavy, musty scent lingered in the air, a man abruptly woke as if from a nightmare. His breath was ragged, his body drenched in cold sweat. Confused, he looked around the neglected room, the dust thick enough to write on.
As he stood up from the old, creaky chair, he winced in pain. A burning sensation throbbed through his wrist. He glanced down—and froze. A deep, jagged cut ran across his wrist, yet it was healing before his eyes. He could feel every nerve, blood vessel, and cell regenerating, the pain real and raw.
Then, like a thunderclap, memories from two lives slammed into his consciousness. The shock overwhelmed him, and he collapsed to the floor, unconscious.
---
Some time later...
He awoke again, this time calmer but shaken. The memories were still there. Two lives, both vivid and real. His name… was Hans Ramorey? No—Alexander. But now? Marcus Kent.
Two lives. One soul. Both orphaned, both bullied. Yet there were differences. Alexander had escapism—anime, manga, games. Marcus had nothing. No outlet. No strength. Only pain.
And in his notebook, Marcus had left behind the truth: before ending his life, he had taken justice into his own hands. He had killed the very people who ruined his life—his bullies, and the teachers who allowed it. Seven in total. Then he vanished, eventually hiding here, unable to handle the weight of his choices. Alone, exhausted, and broken, he ended it.
Alexander—no, Marcus—felt something stir. Not guilt. Not horror. Pride. The boy had fought back when the world turned its back on him.
But the more Marcus remembered, the more surreal things became—Stark Tower, Oscorp, Baxter Building, mutants, Captain America. Fictional elements from his past life. Now real.
This… was the Marvel Universe.
And in a world like this? Without plot armor, you die.
Thanos. The Celestials. Kang. Knull. Beyonders.
Before he could spiral further into panic, salvation came.
DING!
"Awakening System…"
[Character Impersonation System Activated]
Host can impersonate any fictional character by acquiring them through randomized chests ranked from F to Z.
Powers are combat-based only, and can be temporarily fused for 1 hour boosts.
Emotion Points (EP) fuel the system—earned by impacting key individuals.
Host is granted:
– Immunity to mind/soul control
– Perfect health and minor regeneration
– Two random characters to start
– Full support from the System AI
– Good luck… you'll need it.
Eyes wide, Marcus whispered, "Is this for real…?"
A floating interface blinked.
[Draw first character? Y/N]
Without hesitation, he hit "Y".
A radiant chest shimmered into view. He touched it.
DING!
You have obtained:
Eun Ha-Seol – Legend of the Northern Blade
Rank: C (+)
– Silver Light of the Ice Crystal
– Master Assassin and Martial Artist
– Weapon: Moonlight Chakram
Host may impersonate her at any stage (age 16, 23, or 26 or any age). Full power is accessible regardless of age, but gender swap required.
Marcus blinked. "Wait… I have to become her?!"
DING!
"System warned you. Draws are gender and race-neutral. Also, you're bisexual in both lives. So… what's the problem?"
Speechless, he looked down. It was true. Still, it felt… weird.
But the system prompted again:
[Draw second character? Y/N]
Marcus hesitated, then pressed "Y" again. Another chest. Another prayer.
" Oh goddess of luck, god of probability, anime waifus please grant me luck so that I can survive and date both hot women and men "
And the a sudden Flash came from the the chest box
"JESUS CHRIST!" he shouted, blinded by the light and excited thinking ge struck gold but fate seems to have other plans.
DING!
You have obtained:
Minoru Mineta – My Hero Academia
Rank: F
Quirk: Pop Off – Sticky hair that clings to others, not user.
Marcus screamed internally. "WHY THIS PURPLE PERVERT?!"
'why ..... Just why.. was I was not sincere enough? should I pray to enternal parties '
Then…
DING!
You have received a Beginner Pack from ROB (Random Omnipotent Being):
– 1x Extra Identity Card
– $1,000,000 (locked until ID activated)
– Quote: "You'll need this."
Calming down, Marcus stared at the card. A gift. A lifeline. And then…
The TV blared a nightmare.
---
BREAKING NEWS
( "Mayor Michael Anderson's son, Bob Anderson, and several others were murdered by an 18-year-old named Marcus Kent. Security footage shows the teen killing seven individuals with a knife before disappearing…"
"In response, Wilson Fisk—philanthropist and CEO—has placed a $1,000,000 bounty on Marcus' head.")
The screen went black.
Marcus trembled. He understood now. Kingpin wanted favor. Influence. Power. And Marcus? A scapegoat.
He activated the Identity Card.
DING!
New identity:
Eun Ha-Seol
Age: 16
Origin: Korean-American
Background: Average upbringing. Lost parents in a car crash. Left with $1 million in life insurance.
Recently moved to New York for a fresh start. Enrolled in Midtown High School, starting next month.
Clean records. No ties to Marcus Kent.
His body glowed, and a wave of transformation swept through. The apartment's mirror revealed a lithe, graceful teen girl with long hair, soft features, and a fierce spark in her eyes. Her eyes.
Marcus was now Eun Ha-Seol, down to muscle memory and instincts. And no one—not the police, not Fisk, not S.H.I.E.L.D.—could trace her back to Marcus Kent.
She collapsed onto the couch, exhausted, heart pounding.
"…Now I just have to survive… and earn EP."
At the same time.
Location: Fisk Tower – Private Office, Late Evening
The office was dimly lit, a single overhead lamp casting a warm glow over the polished mahogany desk. Behind it stood Wilson Fisk, the Kingpin of New York's underworld and a powerful public figure. His broad frame faced the panoramic window that overlooked the glittering skyline of Manhattan, but his attention was focused on the man sitting in front of him—Mayor Michael Anderson.
Anderson's face was pale, his hands trembling slightly as he held a glass of scotch. "Seven people, Wilson. Seven. And one of them was my son."
Kingpin turned slowly, his expression unreadable but eyes sharp with calculation. "Yes, your son... Bob Anderson, wasn't it? And his friends—Kyle Brooks, Troy Jenkins, David Mercer. All dead."
"And those professors from Hovard University," Fisk added with a cool tone. "Dr. Susan Wexley, Mr. Harold Keane, and Professor Ronald Pierce. Each well-respected in their field."
Anderson's jaw tightened, his grief barely concealed beneath his rage. "Marcus Kent—this little shit—he needs to be found. He needs to be made an example."
Fisk leaned forward, placing his heavy hands on the desk. "And he will be. But not just for revenge. You and I both know how the city operates. If you want to keep your seat next election, this can't be about vengeance—it needs to be about justice."
The mayor nodded slowly. "So what do you propose?"
Fisk smiled faintly. "I've already placed a million-dollar bounty on his head. It'll flood the streets with bounty hunters, vigilantes, and opportunists. Every thug and wannabe hero from Brooklyn to Harlem will be clawing to find him. We'll use the media, of course—"
He turned on the massive screen on his office wall. A pre-recorded clip played: news anchors demonizing Marcus Kent, showing security footage of him fleeing blood-stained hallways, graphic photos blurred just enough for TV. The caption read:
"WANTED: The Butcher of Hovard – 18-Year-Old Suspect Slaughters Students and Professors"
"I've ensured that every outlet—The Daily Bugle, WNYC, The Times, even some influencers—are on the same script. A violent psycho with a death toll. Perfect story. No one will question it."
Mayor Anderson looked up, realization hitting. "You're making him public enemy number one…"
"And you," Fisk added, "will be the brave mayor working with me to protect the city."
Anderson gave a bitter chuckle. "You always know how to spin tragedy, Fisk."
Fisk's smile faded. "This isn't about tragedy. It's about control. And once he's found, it sends a message. We control who's punished. We decide who's guilty."
---
Location: Marcus's Apartment – Just Before Midnight
Marcus—now in the form of Eun Ha-Seol—sat on the floor of the cleaned apartment, her arms wrapped around her legs, a worn blanket covering her.
The TV was off, but her mind played back every word she had heard and read.
She had used her new identity to access digital files—emails, government records, and even camera logs. And it all clicked.
"They don't care that Marcus was bullied. That he snapped after being pushed too far. They're not even looking for why it happened. They just needed a villain."
She closed her eyes, piecing it all together.
"Bob Anderson—the golden boy. A rich punk with a clean record on paper, but rotten inside. Kyle, Troy, David—his cronies. And those teachers—Wexley, Keane, Pierce—they turned a blind eye every time Marcus was humiliated."
"But the moment Marcus fought back, he became the monster."
Her fingers dug into her arm. "Fisk is using this as a power move."
She stood up and walked to the mirror. In the reflection, a girl with long hair and cold, calculating eyes stared back. The system had given her a new face, new power, a way to vanish.
But her mind was still Marcus.
"They turned me into a symbol... So now, I'll become something else."
"Let's see how they like it when the ghost they created becomes the shadow they can never catch."