A black-haired man in his mid-twenties strolled through the bustling streets of Metropolis, wearing a black turtleneck and matching pants. He whistled a lazy tune, clutching two grocery bags as if the weight meant nothing to him.
His name was Jason Simmons.
A transmigrator from another world, Jason had been living in this one for a year and two months now. And yes—he had a system. The Mercenary System.
Here's how it worked: he accepted a task, completed it, got paid, and earned system points equal to the payment. Those points could then be used in the system's shop to buy powerful character cards. As a welcome gift, he'd received a Naruto (Six-Tails Version) card. After months of dirty work and grinding through low-level jobs for crime lords, he'd scraped together enough points to purchase Toji Fushiguro's card from the exchange shop.
You might be wondering why he chose to buy Toji's card, right?
Well, the answer's simple cards are expensive. Ridiculously expensive. And at the time, Toji's was the only halfway decent one he could afford.
It wasn't about being a fanboy or anything. Jason had zero combat experience when he first arrived. Physically, he was just an average human. No enhanced strength or super-speed. The only thing he had going for him was the Naruto (Six-Tails Version) card he got as a welcome gift.
But even that had its limits.
Contrary to what you'd expect, the Naruto card didn't actually grant him access to chakra or ninjutsu—not by default. It is more like a trump card. He can activate the chakra cloak, anywhere from One Tail up to Six Tails, and bulldoze through enemies like a force of nature and he only has access to Chakra while the cloak is active.
The upside? He doesn't suffer the same nasty side effects that Naruto had in the early days—no organ shredding, chakra poisoning or kurama-induced mental breakdowns.
The downside is that It still drains him. Mild exhaustion kicks in afterward. And a little urge to rip something apart.
Nothing he couldn't manage.
Still, the power wasn't something he could use casually since it's too flashy and would definitely draw either Zatana's or Constantine's attention which is something he doesn't need at the moment.
That's where Toji Fushiguro's card came in.
It wasn't just affordable—it was practical. Brutally so.
Toji's skill set fit Jason's occupation like a glove. Enhanced physical abilities, deadly proficiency with weapons, and a knack for assassination and escape fit too perfectly.
And if things ever went sideways Jason was pretty damn confident there weren't many people—meta or not—who could stop him from disappearing into the shadows when the shit hit the fan.
His name had begun to circulate—especially in the darker corners of Gotham and other lawless cities. He didn't like the attention, but thanks to his efficiency and strictly professional ethics, he'd earned himself a codename:
Nameless.
Lousy name, if you asked him.who even came up with that shit,maybe acting all anonymous wasn't such a good idea.
He wasn't a hero. Never claimed to be one. But he had rules. No jobs involving kids or jobs targeting innocent women. Other than that Everything was fair game. Jason had no problem turning a blind eye if the money was good.
Of course, that meant avoiding certain cities. Metropolis, for instance, was Superman's turf. You couldn't scratch your ass without that boy scout hearing it. Jason made sure his business stayed far from here—not because he was afraid of jail, but because he had no interest in winding up in Arkham Asylum. He liked his sanity.
For once in his life, he could honestly say:
"Life is good."
Just then, he passed by a bank. Alarms blared. The glass doors exploded outward in a shower of debris, startling nearby pedestrians. Most people ran. A few brave (or stupid) ones pulled out their phones and started filming.
Two masked robbers sprinted from the smoke, bags in hand. They jumped into a getaway car and peeled off, vanishing into traffic.
Jason didn't blink. He just kept walking.
What, did you want him to play hero?
Yeah, no. Not a chance.
Being a hero is a quick way to put a massive target on your back—and for what? No pay. No benefits. Just judgment and hate from a society that flips on you the moment you make one questionable call.
The truth is villains don't scare him. It's the people he doesn't trust.Being a hero is a thankless job. You get beat up, pay your own hospital bills, burn time and money on gear, and what do you get?
A half-hearted "Thanks."
And guess what? Thanks doesn't feed anyone.So yeah. No thank you.
He'd rather get his hands dirty and get paid. That was his code.
His neighbor—some old guy with too much free time had saw what he shouldn't and played the classic card on him
"With great power comes great responsibility."
Jason's reply?
"Will that responsibility pay me?"
A blank stare.
"That's what I thought."
The only reason that man was still breathing was because he knew how to keep his mouth shut. Had he run it even once—just once—Jason would've made sure he took a long, silent swim at the bottom of Gotham Harbor.
And he wouldn't have lost a wink of sleep over it.
In fact, Jason had been generous enough not to snap the man's neck the moment he caught him watching from his window as Jason casually lifted a car with one hand when he had recently gotten Toji's card and experimenting.
---
Jason finally arrived at his apartment. He unlocked the door, stepped inside, and casually set the grocery bags down on the table.
After a quick stretch, he walked over to the corner of the room where an unmarked black computer sat on a desk. It wasn't just any computer. It had one purpose, and one purpose only.
Accessing the site.
The secure black market network where he got most of his contracts. Nearly impossible to find on your own—encrypted, invite-only, and riddled with failsafes that would fry your machine or trace you to a corpse if you tried to hack your way in.
Jason hadn't found the site. It had been given to him—part of a package deal handed over by some shady fixer after completing a high-risk job early in his merc career. The whole thing came pre-installed: the computer, a one-time login key, and an encrypted backdoor.
The computer couldn't browse the regular internet. It didn't even have a desktop background. All it did was boot straight into the login portal of the mercenary site.
Of course, Jason wasn't naïve enough to think the setup was flawless.
He suspected—strongly—that the computer was being tracked and it would make sense. Mercenaries were often hired to retrieve high-value items, steal data, or eliminate key targets. There had to be some kind of failsafe built in. Maybe a soft trace, or a hidden log that recorded every login and keystroke, just in case someone got smart and decided to break a contract and take the prize for themselves.
After all, this wasn't a charity. It was a business. A very serious business.
Jason was also fairly certain that while the site might quietly track its mercs, it would never expose its clients' identities. That Bad for business. Clients only came back if they trusted the veil of anonymity—and trust was the most valuable currency in this world.
That said, Jason had no doubt that if a merc stepped too far out of line—breached the code they would Expose their alias. Their activity. Maybe even leak enough breadcrumbs to get them hunted down by vigilantes, metas, or worse—other mercenaries.
Once inside, Jason browsed available tasks. The platform was brutal—20% of his earnings were automatically siphoned off the top after every successful mission. But the work was consistent, and the pay was worth it. High-risk, high-reward. Just the way he liked it.
It was also convenient.
The site wasn't just for browsing open contracts—it was where clients could directly request his services. No names. No faces. Just encrypted handles, digital wallets, and cold hard objective.
Jason scrolled casually through the current listings. It was crazy, really—the variety of tasks posted there. Some were as small-time as tailing a cheating spouse or roughing up a local thug. Others? Pure insanity.
He once saw a job offering a fortune to kidnap the mayor's daughter.
Then there was that job.
The one that had been sitting on the board since the day he got access to the site.
"Terminate Superman."
Jason scoffed every time he saw it. Ridiculous. A suicide mission, plain and simple. Probably posted as bait to catch the overconfident or the desperate.
And yet… the pay attached to it is so disgustingly high. Like, life-changing high. The kind of reward that made even seasoned killers stop and think for a second.
Jason wasn't stupid, though. He liked money because it gets him points, not death wishes. The only person he could think of who hated Superman enough to post something that insane—and had the pockets to back it—was Lex Luthor.
Still, insurmountable was putting it lightly.
Even with the Six-Tails cloak and Toji's abilities, Jason knew better than to go head-to-head with a Kryptonian demigod who could punch holes through planets.doing that would get his cheeks clapped from every direction or angle possible and doesn't want that smoke.
He scrolled past it like always, eyes flicking toward something slightly more realistic.