C2: Antique Shop
"James, do you have time this weekend?"
Inside a cozy café off 8th Avenue in Manhattan, a girl with radiant blonde hair summoned her courage and invited the young Asian man across from her.
"I'm sorry, Jennifer." The golden hue of her hair had indeed caught Li Ran's eye. In another life, he wouldn't have missed this chance. But considering the current turbulence in New York—where cosmic threats and vigilante justice were part of daily headlines—he could only decline, albeit reluctantly. "I've got some really important work this weekend, so…"
"Really?" Jennifer's disappointment was visible.
"But I should be free next week, once I'm done with everything. If you're still—"
"Of course! I'm free the next two weeks!" she replied quickly, then flushed as she realized her enthusiasm. Still, she smiled through her blush. "Then it's a date next week, James."
"Certainly."
Li Ran nodded, watching her walk off with a bounce in her step. He lowered his gaze, finishing his lukewarm coffee.
If only this were a normal world.
He sighed inwardly. If this was a world like Friends or Seinfeld, he wouldn't have to worry about people snapping their fingers and erasing half of all life—like what Thanos did during the Infinity Gauntlet arc. No constant threats from aliens, gods, or genius billionaires in powered armor.
But fate had other plans. He hadn't just ended up in New York City—he'd landed in Marvel's New York. A place where Spider-Man swings past Stark Tower, where Daredevil stalks the alleys of Hell's Kitchen, and where S.H.I.E.L.D. drones monitor even mundane events for signs of supernatural interference.
Yes, Li Ran was not from this world.
Two years ago, he'd been an aspiring filmmaker—still dreaming of writing screenplays and finding his break in Hollywood. Until one morning, he walked past a newsstand in Queens and spotted the front page: Oscorp Expands Genetic Research Division. Below that, another headline: Black Panther Visits UN from Wakanda. Then there were the whispered rumors of a blind lawyer in Hell's Kitchen who could take down gang bosses with nothing but sticks and shadows.
That's when it clicked: this wasn't just the real world. It was Earth-199999—or maybe Earth-616—depending on which multiverse rulebook you believed in.
Li Ran left the café and made his way along Manhattan's Eighth Avenue. He navigated through the crowd, avoiding the usual turf zones of the Maggia crime syndicates and gang hangouts recently rattled by Wilson Fisk's sudden silence. Eventually, he reached a narrow alley near Midtown West better known as Hell's Kitchen in the vigilante underground.
There stood his modest place of business: an antique appraisal shop.
"James, you're in early again."
"Hard work is a specialty of mine, Jack." Li Ran greeted Old Jack from the laundry next door, flipped the open sign, and stepped inside.
Inside the dim shop, shelves overflowed with aged trinkets and imitation relics. Most were Chinatown wholesales cheap pieces dressed up as exotic antiquities. The most expensive item barely scraped thirty bucks. If someone ever decided to rob the place, they'd leave with nothing but dust and buyer's remorse.
Then again, no one dared anymore.
Word had spread across Eighth Avenue: James Lee wasn't someone you crossed lightly. Some said he used to work for the Hand. Others whispered he once escaped Punisher's crosshairs without a scratch. No one knew the truth. But they stayed away.
Inside, Li Ran summoned his secret.
Like most transmigrators, he wasn't empty-handed. A system had come with him but it wasn't some omniscient AI or mission-giving guide like the DC Monitor or Marvel's One-Above-All. Instead, it was… selective.
Li Ran's system had only two functions.
First, it tracked fame and personal impressions, his "Legend" stat. The more unforgettable he was to others, especially powerful or iconic figures, the more fame he accrued. And in this world, the deeper the impression made on people like Peter Parker, Matt Murdock, or even someone like Felicia Hardy, the more legendary points he earned.
The second function? Using those points to open treasure chests.
The system's treasure tiers were as follows:
[Wooden Treasure Chest] – 100 Legend: Usually E-rank gag cards and junk items.
[Dark Iron Treasure Chest] – 1,000 Legend: D-rank cards, C-rank fragments, and minor magical trinkets maybe something from Kamar-Taj.
[Bronze Treasure Chest] – 10,000 Legend: C-rank cards, B-rank fragments, and low-tier tech like old S.H.I.E.L.D. gadgets.
[Silver Treasure Chest] – 100,000 Legend: B-rank cards, A-rank fragments, and rare items possibly something like a symbiote sample.
[Golden Treasure Chest] – 1,000,000 Legend: A-rank cards, S-rank fragments, and possibly items connected to cosmic entities.
So far, Li Ran hadn't pulled anything too earth-shattering but the cards were another matter entirely.
The system's true power came through those cards.
Each card granted him the essence of a fictional character powers, skills, even specialties. So far, most of his early draws were laughable. But after half a year of low-level heists and underground notoriety, he'd finally drawn a legitimate D-rank card:
[D-Rank Card – Phantom Thief Kid]
Skills: Sleight of Hand, Disguise Mastery, Houdini-Level Escapism, Expert Appraiser
Background: An infamous gentleman thief from Tokyo. Interpol code 1412. Adept in deception, stage magic, and infiltration. Targets valuable gems, often rumored to hide secrets of immortality. A criminal who steals for purpose not greed.
That's right the elusive figure who had NYPD Commissioner George Stacy cursing every week, the one splashed across Bugle headlines, dubbed New York's New Riddler by Gotham columnists… was Li Ran.
He was Phantom Thief Kid.
He adopted the persona not just to act out the part but to be seen. To rake in Legend points. Because nothing builds fame like dancing on rooftops, outwitting GCPD-grade law enforcement, and vanishing before S.W.A.T. teams arrive.
And it was working.
He was sitting at 800 Legend.
Just one more big move a perfect heist, a flawless escape, maybe even a staged rivalry with someone like Luke Cage or Spider-Woman and the [Dark Iron Chest] would be his.
No wonder he was obsessed with cracking the next tier. In a world where the Fantastic Four could return from Latverian space warps at any moment, and where beings like Dormammu or Darkseid might make a sudden cameo, Li Ran knew he had to get stronger fast.
Because in this reality, even staying quiet in your antique shop wouldn't save you from the next Kree invasion.
So if the road to survival meant donning a monocle, leaving riddled announcements, and becoming the world's most charming headache?
Then so be it.
Li Ran smiled faintly, flipping a coin between his fingers. The game was far from over. And the city hadn't seen anything yet.
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