"Dear Carl,
I'm very interested in your bar in Queens. One million dollars should be a fair price.
In three days, I'll bring someone to discuss the details in person.
I trust you won't refuse… after all, you wouldn't want any accidents, would you?"
—
New York, Queens.
It was late at night, yet beneath the dazzling neon lights, the city looked even more alive than during the day.
Inside a luxurious apartment, Carl sat on the sofa, his expression cold. His right hand tightened, crushing the letter into a wrinkled ball.
"…So I've run into someone like this."
With a flick of his wrist, he tossed the letter aside and picked up a delicate wine glass. Taking a slow sip, he turned his gaze toward the brilliant cityscape outside the window.
"It really is a beautiful view…"
Twenty-four years ago, Carl had arrived in this world.
As he grew older, he learned that the city he lived in was called New York. At first, he thought he had simply been reborn somewhere across the ocean.
Until one day… he saw the Steve Rogers Memorial.
Captain America.
At that moment, everything became clear.
This was the Marvel Universe.
A world filled with aliens, superheroes, and supervillains—countless powerful beings, even gods from ancient myths.
Dangerous… but also fascinating.
Because here, legends truly existed.
—
Along with his transmigration, Carl had also gained a system.
A sign-in system.
Nothing unusual about that… except his worked a little differently.
Not only could he sign in at different locations every day, but he could also accumulate sign-in time.
He could choose to "store" his sign-ins for a set period—one year, two years, or even longer—and then receive all the rewards at once when the time was up.
The longer the accumulation, the greater the reward.
After two unlucky days of signing in and receiving nothing but milk powder, Carl made a bold decision—
He would sign in for twenty-five years in New York.
Now, twenty-four years had already passed.
And he was still… an ordinary person.
Well, mostly ordinary.
A young man with black hair, black eyes, and a handsome face.
—
When Carl first arrived in this world, he had been adopted by an elderly, wealthy businessman.
The man gave him a name—
Carl Smith.
Even though it felt a bit strange for someone of his background, Carl kept the name out of gratitude.
A few years ago, the old man passed away, leaving behind a vast fortune.
Billions of dollars in assets had been legally transferred to Carl—properties, two bars, a company, and multiple shares.
After realizing he was in the Marvel Universe, Carl spent several years reorganizing everything.
He sold his company and most of his shares, turning them into liquid cash.
Then, using his vague memories from his previous life, he invested in a few key companies:
Stark Industries
Hammer Industries
Pym Technologies
Oscorp
Companies tied to Iron Man, his rivals, Ant-Man, and the Green Goblin.
It was a gamble based on incomplete memories—
But it paid off.
In just a few years, Carl's wealth had increased tenfold.
Now, he possessed tens of billions of dollars.
—
The letter he had just thrown away… had mysteriously appeared in one of his bars.
Signed by:
Wilson Grant Fisk.
A name that might not mean much at first glance.
But he had another, far more infamous title—
Kingpin.
And Carl knew exactly who that was.
He was a supervillain—
The underground emperor of America.
Powerful. Ruthless.
Some people might not recognize his real name, but they definitely knew his enemies.
In Queens alone, there was the "friendly neighborhood" Spider-Man.
Then there were Daredevil, Punisher, and even teams like the X-Men and the Fantastic Four.
All of them had clashed with him at some point.
With so much involvement in the criminal underworld, it was only natural that he stood on the opposite side of countless superheroes.
And recently… for some unknown reason, he had set his sights on Carl's bar.
—
To be honest, Carl was still just an ordinary person.
Sure, he had trained in combat since childhood—but against someone like that?
It was meaningless.
Still… being forced to sell something he had no intention of selling?
That didn't sit right with him.
Carl had already sold his company and most of his shares. The only things he kept were his two bars.
Not for profit.
Just… a place to relax, have a drink, and live peacefully.
And now someone wanted to take that away by force?
"…Ridiculous."
—
In truth, Carl wasn't completely without options.
He had already located Peter Parker at Midtown High School.
At this point, Peter was still just an ordinary student—he hadn't been bitten by the radioactive spider yet.
Carl had been quietly keeping an eye on him, ready to take the spider for himself if needed.
Even though Spider-Man was one of his favorite heroes…
If it came down to survival, he could only say sorry.
Originally, this was just a backup plan.
But now, with Kingpin stepping in…
Things had changed.
"Looks like I'll have to rely on the system."
—
Carl glanced at the clock.
11:55 PM.
Five minutes left.
After twenty-five years of waiting… the reward was finally about to arrive.
If this failed—
Then he'd just throw money at the problem. Hire assassins, eliminate Kingpin, or wait for another opportunity.
Either way, he wouldn't go down quietly.
Carl lifted his glass and waited.
Silence filled the room.
Then—
"Ding!"
A mechanical voice echoed in his mind.
"…Silver Superman?"
Carl froze.
His hands trembled slightly.
Silver… Superman?!
—
As a transmigrator, Carl knew exactly what that meant.
This wasn't just Superman—
This was the version from the Silver Age of DC Comics.
A version so absurdly powerful that logic barely applied.
Sneezing could destroy stars.
Moving entire planets.
Absorbing energy, resisting magic, even eating kryptonite raw.
Flying faster than light.
Breaking time itself.
Traveling through the past and future like it was nothing.
This wasn't just strength—
This was limitless potential.
—
Carl slowly clenched his fist.
A faint smile appeared on his face.
"With this…"
"I don't need the spider anymore."
Peter Parker could keep his destiny.
As for Kingpin?
Carl didn't even consider him a threat anymore.
"Now… I just have to wait."