Warnings for this book:
The protagonist was part-time fun-seeker, not a saint or a simp.
No drastic rewrites of the main plot, only saving characters from tragic deaths.
His ability was at the ceiling of rule-based powers, but had serious flaws. He would not be mindlessly invincible.
Magic was only a stepping stone in the early stages.
As for the setting, where the movies provided details, the movies took precedence; where the movies left things unspoken, the comics took precedence.
The logic was probably... sound. If you spot any problems, feel free to leave a comment. If I see it, I'll fix it!
Of course, if it's convenient, it would be even better if you could leave your brains here with me.
Lynn squatted beside a ventilation duct in the subway station, staring at the burger covered in green fuzz in his hand, his face scrunched up like a bitter melon.
He was seriously considering a question... if he ate this burger, would he die of poisoning first, or starvation?
The answer was probably the former.
Five days since transmigrating, with no ID and no money. If he really starved to death, could he qualify for a transmigrator Guinness record? The first unlucky bastard to starve to death after transmigrating.
He licked his cracked lips and used a fingernail to lift the moldy bun, revealing a patty that had already turned a suspicious grayish brown, with even a layer of glistening slime on it.
"I finally understand those wilderness survival vloggers who eat anything," Lynn muttered to himself, his voice as rough as sandpaper. "The difference is, they're asking for death. I got transmigrated against my will."
Five days ago, he had still been a recent physics graduate living the corporate grind of nine to nine, six days a week. While sleeping at the office, a Dayun truck falling from the sky had delivered him to the streets of New York, with only three dollars and twenty-five cents in his pocket and not even an ID.
He had read countless webnovels about transmigration, but only when it happened to him did he realize that all those protagonists who moved straight into mansions and wielded the power of money after transmigrating were a lie. Real transmigration meant not even having a legal identity, not even being able to get into a homeless shelter.
"If only I had a system." Lynn sighed again and recited, "Ding, check-in successful. Received billions in assets. Ding, beginner gift pack. Received a god-tier cultivation technique."
Unfortunately, there was none.
He had only this moldy burger and a bottle of tap water filled in a restroom.
Lynn looked at the spoiled burger in his hand and, after thinking for a long time, finally decided to eat first and worry later.
Dying after transmigrating was one thing, but no matter what, he couldn't die of starvation. That would be far too humiliating.
He closed his eyes and brought the burger to his mouth, trying hard to imagine that the burger in his hand was freshly made and still giving off a faint aroma.
Before he could bite down, the warm scent of bread suddenly rushed into his nose.
Lynn froze, opened his eyes, and found that the burger in his hand really had changed.
The green fuzz was gone, the brown patty had turned a golden, seared brown, melted cheese was spilling over its edges, and the lettuce looked as fresh as if it had just been taken off a supermarket shelf. Hot white steam rose from the gaps in the wrapper, curling upward through the cold air.
"..." Lynn blinked, then blinked again.
He tried taking a bite.
Beef juices burst across his tongue, the savory saltiness of cheese mingling with the taste of pickles. It was actually better than the burger from that internet-famous burger joint he had eaten at before transmigrating.
"Am I hallucinating from hunger?" Lynn mumbled indistinctly as he wolfed it down. "Whatever. A hallucination works too. I'll finish it first."
He polished off the burger in a few bites and took two more mouthfuls of tap water, feeling as though he had come back to life.
Just then, the space in front of him suddenly seemed to be torn open by a pair of enormous, invisible hands.
Orange sparks sprayed from the rift, and a spinning circular portal opened before his eyes. Beyond it lay a stretch of snow-covered mountains and an old-fashioned building, with a biting chill in the air.
A bald woman in an apricot-yellow robe stepped through the portal.
Her face was calm, but her eyes seemed able to see through everything. When her gaze fell on Lynn, it paused briefly.
"The Ancient One?" Lynn instinctively shrank half a step back. I transmigrated a few days ago and nearly starved to death, and now you're telling me I transmigrated into Marvel?
Don't transmigration novels all say Marvel is plastered with ads featuring that womanizing guy with the little mustache? Where are they?
But thinking about it, that makes sense. What arms dealer puts ads up on the streets?
"Oh? You know me?"
The Ancient One.
One of the strongest sorcerers in the Marvel Cinematic Universe, a big shot who had lived for centuries and could knock Hulk's soul out of his body with one hand.
The Ancient One's gaze lingered on him for a moment, and the corners of her mouth lifted in an almost imperceptible curve.
"You're very special," she said. "I just sensed an unusual fluctuation of energy. Its source was right here."
Lynn's head buzzed.
He looked down at the wrapper in his hand, then at the Ancient One's expression, and finally realized something.
That burger hadn't been a hallucination. He had made it happen himself.
"Uh, you're on the magic side. You aren't planning to dissect me too, are you?" Lynn said awkwardly. "I just muttered something offhand..."
"I'm a sorcerer, not a mad scientist, but that is also why I came to you," The Ancient One said calmly. "An ordinary person, without training, able to freely distort the fundamental laws of the universe. In such a case, they are either exceptionally gifted or a potential threat."
"...Then which do you think I am?"
The Ancient One did not answer directly. She extended a hand, and a golden rune appeared above her palm.
"I can sense that you don't belong to this world," she said. "Your soul's frequency differs from this universe's underlying tone. You came from somewhere else, didn't you? In ordinary people's terms, a 'transmigrator'?"
Lynn's hair stood on end.
"Don't be nervous." The Ancient One's tone grew a little more relaxed instead. "Over the centuries, I've seen more than one 'transmigrator.' The barriers between the multiverse's universes are not entirely impenetrable. Occasionally, a soul slips through a gap and falls into another world. But this is my first time seeing such a pure outsider as you."
"Then... what happened to those people afterward?" Lynn asked cautiously.
"Some died, some survived, and some..." The Ancient One paused. "Lived a very long time."
With that, she appraised the young man before her again. He was in his twenties, his eyes full of wariness and hunger, but deep within his gaze was a fierce determination to stay alive.
"I can provide you with food and shelter," The Ancient One said. "In exchange, you must return to Kamar-Taj with me and let me observe you for a while. I have no wish to investigate your past, nor can I observe your future. But I need to ensure that Earth won't be destroyed at your hands."
Lynn was silent for three seconds.
"As much food as I can eat?"
"As much as you can eat."
"Is there heating? New York subway stations are freezing at night."
"Kamar-Taj is in the Himalayas, four thousand meters above sea level." The Ancient One glanced at him. "Of course we have a heating system. We're sorcerers, not savages."
"Okay." Lynn stood and brushed the dust off his pants. "Deal."
He followed the Ancient One into the portal, glancing back at the New York subway station just before stepping into the snowy mountains.
On the other side of the portal, the Himalayan air was so cold that it cut across his face like a knife.
Lynn shivered and pulled his thin jacket tighter around himself, looking at the old-fashioned complex before him.
It was a little smaller than he had imagined, and plainer too. The stone walls were covered in the marks of time, and warm yellow light spilled through carved windows, giving it a sense of quiet strength instead.
The Ancient One led him across the courtyard and pushed open a heavy wooden door. Inside was a dining hall, with a few plates of simple vegetarian food and a large pot of steaming soup set on a long wooden table.
"Eat first," The Ancient One said. "Starting tomorrow, I'll have Mordo train you."
Without another word, Lynn sat down and began eating.
One burger was nowhere near enough to satisfy his long-starved stomach. The warmth of the food spread from his stomach into his limbs. This was the first proper meal he had eaten in days.
He ate quickly, with a dazed sense that he might still be dreaming.
The Ancient One sat opposite him, watching him quietly.
"Aren't you curious about what your power is?" she asked.
"I am." Lynn swallowed a mouthful of soup. "But my priorities right now are: first, fill my stomach. Second, figure out whether I'm dreaming. Third, find a way to stay alive. I have a rough understanding of your abilities. Rather than letting my thoughts run wild, getting enough to eat is what matters for me right now..."
The Ancient One nodded and did not press him further.
After the meal, the Ancient One arranged a clean room for him, with a wooden bed covered in a thick quilt, an oil lamp, and a window overlooking the snowy mountains.
Lynn lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling for a long time.
He had yet to realize what this ability of his would bring him.