Dear Carl,
I'm very interested in your bar in Queens.
Perhaps a million dollars is a fair price.
Three days from now, I'll be bringing some people to discuss the details.
I trust you won't refuse.
After all, you wouldn't want any... unfortunate accidents, would you?
New City, Queen Street.
It was already late at night, but under the glow of dazzling neon lights, the city pulsed with life, more vibrant than even during the day.
Inside a luxurious high-rise apartment,
Carl sat on the couch, tightly clutching a letter in his right hand until it crumpled into a ball.
"Seriously… and he thinks he can threaten me?"
Scoffing, he tossed the letter aside and picked up a crystal wine glass.
Taking a slow sip, his gaze drifted toward the glittering cityscape outside the window.
"What a view," Carl murmured.
Twenty-four years ago, Carl had arrived in this world.
As he grew older, he learned this city was called New City.
At first, he'd assumed he'd ended up in some foreign metropolis on Earth.
That was… until he visited the Steve Rogers Memorial Museum.
Captain America.
Anyone who knew even a little about Marvel would instantly understand what kind of world this was.
A dangerous one.
Aliens. Superheroes. Supervillains.
Even gods from ancient mythologies walked among mortals.
And yet, this world was also full of wonder and excitement. After all, the Marvel Universe was home to countless heroes and legends.
Carl… hadn't come here empty-handed.
He brought with him a [Check-In System].
A classic cheat device in transmigration stories.
But unlike the usual cookie-cutter systems from webnovels, Carl's was a little different.
It allowed him to check in at various locations, but more importantly, it let him accumulate check-in time.
He could preset a check-in duration: one year, two years… even longer.
When the time ended, he'd instantly receive the accumulated reward.
The longer the duration, the greater the reward.
After receiving two consecutive rewards of baby formula, Carl made a decision he would later half-regret:
He set his check-in location to New City, for a full 25 years.
And now, after 24 years had passed, the results?
He was still a perfectly ordinary human being.
Well, black hair, black eyes, absurdly handsome, and ridiculously wealthy… technically ordinary.
After arriving in this world, Carl had been adopted by a wealthy, childless bachelor in his fifties.
Carl Smith.
That was the name the old man had given him.
It might've sounded odd for someone with an Asian face, but out of respect for his adoptive father, Carl kept the name.
Years later, the old man passed away peacefully, and Carl inherited everything.
Several properties, two bars, and stakes in various businesses, including the man's own company.
Once Carl realized he was in the Marvel Universe, he got to work managing the assets with care.
First, he sold off the original company and most of its shares.
Then he converted everything to liquid cash.
From there, he invested carefully in names he recognized:
Stark Industries. Hammer Industries. Pym Technologies. Oscorp.
Iron Man, Iron Man's rival, the original Ant-Man, the Green Goblin…
These were all companies tied to major players in the Marvel world, names Carl still remembered from his past life.
Thanks to those decisions, his wealth multiplied tenfold within just a few years.
Now, he was worth tens of billions.
As for the letter he tossed earlier, it had appeared without warning in one of his bars.
Signed at the bottom: Wilson Grant Fisk.
At first glance, the name might not ring a bell.
But his alias? Kingpin.
Carl instantly recognized it.
One of Marvel's top-tier villains. Known as the "Emperor of the Underworld" in America. A true kingpin of crime.
Some people might not know him well…
But his enemies definitely did:
Spider-Man, the friendly neighborhood hero of Queens.
Daredevil.
The Punisher.
Even the X-Men and Fantastic Four had clashed with him.
The man had a vast network of underground operations and had earned the wrath of countless heroes.
And now, for some reason, he had set his sights on Carl's bar.
To be honest, Carl was still just a normal human.
Sure, he'd trained in martial arts from a young age… but compared to someone like Kingpin?
No contest.
Still, getting muscled out of your own business? That was a line crossed.
Carl had no plans to sell the two bars he'd inherited, even after liquidating his other assets.
Those bars were special to him. Personal sanctuaries. A way to relax.
And now, some crime boss wanted to buy them out through intimidation?
No.
Carl wasn't completely without cards to play.
He had already located Peter Parker, a student at Midtown High School.
Still an ordinary teenager. Not yet bitten by the radioactive spider.
Carl had been keeping tabs on Peter, preparing to intercept the spider before it ever bit him.
He really admired Spider-Man, but at the end of the day, sentiment had to take a backseat.
Back then, he hadn't been in any rush.
It was just a contingency plan.
But now, with Kingpin on the move?
That backup plan felt shakier by the minute.
The only thing Carl could truly count on now… was the [System].
He glanced at the clock.
11:55.
Just five minutes away from completing the 25-year check-in.
He had waited a quarter of a century for this moment.
If the reward turned out to be a joke, he might seriously consider selling the bar.
Maybe even hire some supervillains to take Kingpin out.
Or just bide his time and strike back later.
Raising his glass, Carl waited in silence.
[Check-In Complete. Reward Delivered, Silver Superman Template]
A mechanical voice echoed in his mind, and Carl's body trembled slightly.
Silver Superman.
The 25-year reward had finally arrived, and it was everything he hoped for.
As a transmigrator, Carl knew exactly what this meant.
The Silver Age Superman.
The most overpowered version of Superman from DC Comics' Silver Age.
Stronger than the modern version by miles.
He could sneeze stars out of existence. Move entire solar systems. Absorb magic. Eat Kryptonite. Blow out suns. Travel through time and space.
All the usual powers, and more.
Silver Age Superman might not have been the strongest in every continuity, but he had one terrifying trait:
He had no limits.
In the middle of a battle, he could spontaneously awaken new powers, just because the plot needed it.
With this template in hand, Carl no longer needed Peter Parker's spider.
No need to rob Spider-Man of his future.
Let fate take its course.
And as for Kingpin?
Let him come.
Carl would be waiting.