The room was dim, lit only by the glow of the television.
On the screen, superheroes clashed with supervillains, cities crumbling as flashes of light and explosions filled the air. Powers collided—speed, strength, energy, and magic—each strike more ridiculous and exciting than the last.
Lionel lay sprawled on his bed, eyes glued to the screen.
"Damn…" he muttered, watching a hero get slammed through three buildings.
"Why isn't our world that exciting? All this cool superpower stuff—none of it's real."
He sighed heavily and slammed his fist down on the small table beside his bed.
Bang.
The impact jolted the table, causing a cold drink bottle resting near the edge to wobble—then tip over.
"Great…" Lionel groaned.
The bottle hit the floor and rolled under the desk. With another sigh, Lionel leaned forward and bent down to pick it up. He didn't notice the tangle of exposed wires behind the table, nor the small puddle forming where the drink had spilled.
As his fingers wrapped around the bottle, his head bumped the table leg—
—and at that exact moment, the fallen wires touched the spilled liquid.
A violent surge of electricity exploded outward.
Pain ripped through Lionel's body. His muscles locked, vision blurring as white-hot agony consumed his senses. There was no time to scream.
Only darkness.
Lionel died instantly, collapsing to the floor as the television continued playing—heroes still fighting, worlds still being saved—completely unaware that, somewhere beyond reality, a soul had just been released.
Darkness swallowed everything.
Lionel felt himself falling, not through space, but through something deeper—his thoughts unraveling, memories scattering like broken glass. His sense of self stretched thin, fading, until even his name began to lose meaning.
Then—
Thump.
His soul vanished from his old world.
At the very same moment, in the Hell's Kitchen district of New York, inside a worn-down apartment tucked within an aging building, a young man sleeping on a creaking bed jerked violently awake.
Lionel gasped.
Air rushed into his lungs as if he had been drowning. His heart pounded wildly, sweat clinging to his skin as he shot upright, eyes darting around the unfamiliar room.
"What…?" he whispered hoarsely.
The surroundings were wrong.
The ceiling was cracked and yellowed. Faded posters clung to the walls. A small window let in the dull glow of city lights and the distant sound of sirens. This wasn't his room.
He raised his hands instinctively—
—and froze.
They were bigger. Stronger. Not the slim hands of a teenager, but those of a young adult. His arms were lean and well-defined, veins faintly visible beneath the skin.
Lionel staggered out of bed and rushed to the cracked mirror mounted near the sink.
Staring back at him was a handsome young man, sharp features, dark hair, alert eyes filled with shock and confusion.
"That's… not me," he murmured.
And yet—
Memories flooded his mind.
A different childhood. A different family. Growing up in New York. Struggling. Surviving. A name surfaced naturally, effortlessly, as if it had always belonged to him.
This body's life.
This world's memories.
Lionel's legs gave out, and he sat heavily on the edge of the bed, breathing hard.
"I… I reincarnated?" he muttered.
Scenes from countless isekai anime and novels he had watched and read rushed through his thoughts. Sudden death. A new body. A different world.
His eyes widened.
"No way…"
He stood again, walking toward the window, staring out at the city skyline. Neon lights reflected off rain-slick streets. In the distance, towering structures pierced the night sky.
New York and not just any New York from his memories
His breath caught.
"Marvel…" Lionel whispered.
Not just any world.
The Marvel Universe.
Tony Stark.
Super soldiers.
Gods.
Monsters.
Heroes and villains that could shatter cities.
His heart began to race—not with fear, but with something dangerously close to excitement.
"If this is really Marvel…" he said slowly, clenching his new hands, "then this world actually is exciting."
"I am really in an exciting world!!" Lionel couldn't believe his wish had been granted.
"Does praying to shooting stars really grant wishes?" he mumbled, then shook his head.
"I'm here—that's all that matters," he said softly as he looked at himself in the mirror.
"Nicolas Lionel, huh…" Lionel muttered as memories surfaced.
"My name is now my surname," he chuckled, finding the thought oddly amusing.
"Okay, so I'm Nicolas. Cool name," he nodded to himself, accepting it.
Then he looked around the room, frowning.
"But where's my cheat?"
"Don't all reborn people get cheats?" he muttered under his breath. Taking a breath, he spoke aloud, half-joking, half-hopeful.
"System, are you there?"
A moment of silence followed—
Then a cold, mechanical voice echoed in his mind.
[Congratulations, Host, on awakening with memories from your previous life.]
[System is now fully operational.]
[Welcome to the Super Enlightenment System.]
"Super Enlightenment System?" Nicolas thought.
"Sounds like something a main character from a cultivation world would get."
He took a breath and asked, "What can you do, System?"
The response came instantly.
[Host system's main function is Enlightenment.]
[The Host can enlighten anything or anyone, making them better or perfecting them.]
[For example: if the Host were to use Enlightenment on a sheet of nonsensical, disordered scribbles, those writings would refine themselves and transform into a real, functional formula of whatever they were meant to be.]
[In simple terms: Enlightenment means removing flaws.]
[The Host requires Enlightenment Points (EP) to use this function.]
[The Host currently generates 1 Enlightenment Point (EP) every 24 hours.]
[The Host has received a Newbie Gift of 100 EP.]
[The Host can also gain Enlightenment Points through fame.]
[The amount gained depends on the type of fame the Host acquires—positive fame or negative fame.]
"Good fame and bad fame?" Nicolas asked.
[They are the same.]
[The System has no restrictions on the Host's freedom.]
[The Host may choose to be a hero, a villain, or anything else the Host desires.]
"Does all Enlightenment have the same cost, or are there different ones?" Nicolas asked.
[Different costs apply.]
[Every object, concept, skill, or body part has its own Enlightenment cost.]
[The cost depends on complexity, importance, and current level of flaws.]