It was a stormy night.
A young man sat in front of his computer, the rapid tapping of his fingers echoing continuously across the keyboard. On the screen was DNF (Dungeon Fighter Online). With precise control, he executed a single Draw Sword Slash, instantly killing the boss. Then, without hesitation, he closed his eyes and clasped his hands together, bowing toward the air.
"Hallucination 2=1… Ma Da Da, please grant me a Breath of Aura!"
The young man's name was Luke.
Unfortunately, even such a domineering-sounding name couldn't change one simple truth—
He had terrible luck.
He had already farmed the Time Rift dungeon countless times, yet that final crucial piece still refused to drop. After praying for a long while, Luke opened his eyes.
And his heart nearly stopped.
Was he seeing things?
What was that beneath his character's feet?
Breath of Aura!
It dropped!
Finally—after all this time—it dropped!
Overcome with excitement, he hurriedly controlled his character to pick it up.
But…
It wouldn't pick up.
"What the hell?!"
His fingers flew across the keyboard in a frenzy, but the item on the ground remained completely unresponsive.
Did he disconnect?
Or was he banned?
Luke grabbed the monitor, nearly losing his mind.
"You've got to be kidding me! I waited three years just for a chance to raid—and this is how you treat me?!"
Outside, thunder roared.
A bolt of lightning flashed across the window.
In the next instant—
The computer screen went black.
The lights in the room went out.
Darkness swallowed everything.
A loud crash echoed.
A faint smell of burning began to spread through the air.
But Luke…
Could no longer smell anything.
Where… am I?
His eyes opened slowly, stiff and heavy.
A flood of unfamiliar memories surged violently into his mind.
His head spun.
"…Did I just transmigrate?"
Luke instinctively looked around.
A small room.
Simple.
Bare.
Only a bed.
He looked down at himself—
And went silent.
"…Why am I so small?"
How old was this body? Five? Six?
And this place…
An orphanage?
The memories of this body gradually became clearer.
The original owner was also named Luke.
A six-year-old Chinese-American boy.
An orphan.
Living in a children's welfare home.
And this place—
Was New York City.
Just as Luke was processing everything, the door opened.
A middle-aged Black woman walked in.
Searching through his memories, Luke immediately recognized her.
The director of the orphanage.
She walked up to him and smiled gently.
"Luke, come meet your adoptive parents. We've already made arrangements."
She spoke in English.
Yet Luke understood every word effortlessly.
Clearly, he had inherited the original body's language ability.
Adoption…
Luke recalled the memory.
Yes.
The six-year-old Luke had already agreed to be adopted by a couple.
After a brief moment of thought, Luke made his decision.
Go with the flow.
Being adopted was far better than staying in the orphanage.
He had just arrived in this world, and his current body was extremely limiting.
Having a stable home would be beneficial.
Of course—
That depended on whether his adoptive parents were decent people.
Following the director through the hallway, Luke entered her office.
There, he saw a man and a woman.
A couple in their early thirties.
The man wore a suit and tie, slightly overweight, with a kind and approachable face.
The woman wore a simple floral dress, modestly dressed.
"So… these are the ones adopting me?"
Luke observed them.
At the same time—
They were observing him.
And clearly, they were satisfied.
That was understandable.
Luke looked exceptionally refined for a child—clean, bright-eyed, and composed.
After all, he carried the soul of a twenty-year-old.
That kind of gaze, appearing on a six-year-old child, naturally gave the impression of intelligence.
The couple approached and knelt down.
Smiling warmly.
"Hello, Luke. My name is Fudge," the man said.
The woman looked slightly emotional, her eyes full of affection.
"My name is Karen."
But Luke wasn't looking at them.
His eyes were fixed on the television behind them.
A live press conference was playing.
A man in his thirties stood before a crowd of reporters.
"I am Iron Man."
Luke froze.
Completely stunned.
At the same time—
A deep, sinister voice echoed in his mind:
"The Apostles' invasion of this world has begun. Luke… as one of us, it is time to spread the glory of the Apostles throughout this world."
One Year Later
Luke was now seven years old.
More precisely—
His body was seven.
He stood just over one meter tall.
After a year of care in his adoptive home, his malnourished condition had improved, though he was still somewhat underdeveloped.
His adoptive family belonged to the middle class.
His adoptive father worked as a lawyer.
His adoptive mother was a full-time housewife.
Luke's arrival had completed their family.
They loved him deeply.
And Luke, in return, was grateful for the stability they gave him.
At this moment, Luke lay on his bed, hands behind his head.
His childish face carried a thoughtful expression—
Yet his demeanor was unmistakably that of an adult.
Over the past year, he had fully accepted his reincarnation.
And through careful observation—
He confirmed something crucial.
This was the Marvel Universe.
Iron Man had already appeared.
But the Hulk had not yet emerged.
S.H.I.E.L.D. was still at its peak.
Mutants, Inhumans, and hidden heroes were beginning to surface.
It was still an early—
Relatively stable—
Phase.
Even so—
The pressure on Luke was immense.
Why?
Because in the Marvel Universe—
The least valuable thing…
Was an ordinary person's life.
Whenever superheroes appeared—or aliens invaded—
Chaos followed.
And afterward?
Countless civilians died.
Ordinary people were nothing more than background scenery.
And beyond public knowledge—
Even greater beings lurked in the shadows.
Watching Earth.
Manipulating events.
The cosmic entities.
Dormammu of the Dark Dimension.
Cyttorak of the Crimson Cosmos.
And Luke?
Was just an ordinary person.
Before his reincarnation—
He had been nothing more than a regular gamer.
Against such overwhelming power—
He had no chance.
And one day—
Thanos would snap his fingers.
Even if Luke survived until then—
He didn't believe he would be among the lucky half.
So he reached a conclusion.
If he wanted to survive—
There was only one way.
Become stronger.
Stronger than ordinary humans.
Stronger than superhumans.
Stronger than everyone.
Only then—
Could he control his own fate.
Fortunately—
He wasn't completely helpless.
He hadn't come alone.
Along with him—
Came a system.
A system he called:
The DNF System.
Like the ones from the novels he used to read—
It held limitless potential.
Through it, he could obtain powerful abilities and rare items.
But unlike those systems—
This one required effort.
No work.
No reward.
Luke had no issue with that.
That was how things should be.
Anything given freely—
Was suspicious.
Over the past year, he had begun to understand how to gain power from it.
And for that—
He had to thank one particular "companion."
Currently sitting on his shoulder—
Was an octopus.
More precisely—
A cephalopod.
Its eight tentacles were unusually short, making it look like a soft, squishy ball.
Awkward.
Almost cute.
Its name was Rost.
Though Luke preferred to call it—
Short-Legged Rost.
Despite constantly claiming to be an incarnation of an Apostle—
Luke didn't believe it at all.
"What kind of Apostle looks like a cheap plastic octopus toy?"
Sometimes, he even felt like squeezing it would make a squeaky sound.
Rost—
Also known as Lotus—
Was a chatterbox.
And worse—
Cunning.
Its favorite phrase:
"I'm here to guide you onto the right path, young man."
If it hadn't occasionally encouraged him to kill random people—
Luke might have believed it.
Still—
It was undeniably useful.
Lotus understood the system extremely well.
Almost every question Luke asked—
It could answer.
His rapid growth over the past year—
Was largely thanks to it.
"You're growing too slowly," Lotus complained from his shoulder.
"A whole year, and you've only learned three skills. At this rate, I might forget why I'm here!"
"My duty is to guide you."
"And your mission is far greater—"
"To spread the glory of the Apostles across this world!"
Luke didn't react.
He was used to this.
"Relax," he replied calmly.
"My goal is to live here—no, to survive."
"That doesn't conflict with completing system tasks."
To him—
Survival came first.
Everything else—
Was secondary.
He and Lotus had argued about this many times.
Suddenly—
Lotus tensed.
"Shh!"
"Someone's outside!"
Its voice dropped into an excited whisper.
"Kill her! Kill her!!"
Its tiny tentacles wrapped tightly around Luke's neck, bouncing with excitement.
Luke rolled his eyes.
He grabbed the octopus—
And stuffed it under a pile of books.
Right then—
Knock knock.
The door opened.
A blonde, blue-eyed woman stepped in.
Karen.
His adoptive mother.
She smiled gently.
"It's time to eat, honey."
"Okay, Karen!"
Luke jumped off the bed—
Instantly acting like a cheerful seven-year-old.
Karen looked around the room, slightly confused.
"Who were you talking to just now?"
"I was reading out loud," Luke replied with a smile.
Karen chuckled and patted his head.
Then the two of them went downstairs together.
Meanwhile—
Under a large pile of books—
A tiny, short-legged octopus struggled desperately to crawl its way out…