A few weeks had passed since Ethan pulled Tony Stark out of the Afghan desert. As a certified member of the transmigrator community, Ethan didn't just sit around meditating. He used his future insight to do what any self-respecting protagonist would do: he heavily manipulated the stock market.
When Tony announced the shutdown of Stark Industries' weapons division, the company's stock completely cratered. It was a bloodbath on Wall Street. Ethan, sitting comfortably in his New York Sanctum, pulled out the Kamar-Taj Black Card and bought a massive, ungodly amount of Stark shares at rock bottom.
Sure, he was technically embezzling from an ancient, sacred mystical trust fund. But in his mind, it was just a short-term loan. Once Tony announced the Arc Reactor tech and the Iron Man suit, the stock would skyrocket, Ethan would return the principal to the Sanctum's reserves, and he would pocket the massive, multi-million-dollar profit. Perfect logic.
With his financial future secured, Ethan had finally sat down to claim his real prize: the SR-tier system reward. The excitement of receiving the Hoi-Poi Capsule blueprint lasted exactly until Ethan actually tried to read it.
"System, extract the blueprint," Ethan commanded, leaning back on his plush leather sofa and closing his eyes, fully expecting a smooth, Matrix-style download of knowledge into his brain.
Instead, it felt like someone had driven a semi-truck made of quantum physics directly into his forehead. Ethan gasped, violently clutching his head as dense, incomprehensible mathematical formulas involving localized spatial collapse, mass nullification, and sub-atomic particle containment flooded his mind. His Dumbledore template was practically screaming. Albus Dumbledore was an undisputed genius at Transfiguration and Charms, but the 150-year-old wizard didn't know the first thing about particle accelerators, quantum matrix routing, or thermodynamic containment fields.
"Okay... okay, ouch," Ethan groaned, rubbing his temples as the agonizing headache slowly subsided. "That is a lot of math. Pure, unadulterated, Tony-Stark-level math." He let out a long sigh. "Damn it, System. When are you going to give me a new template? I need a scientist. Give me Rick Sanchez or something."
[ System Note: The Host can purchase a Random Template Ticket from the System Shop at any time. ]
"Man, that's damn expensive! 100,000 points? It will take me years to grind that many points at this rate."
[ System Note: Alternatively, the Host can complete the synchronization of the current Albus Dumbledore template to 100%. Upon mastery, you will be rewarded with one Random Template Ticket for free. ]
Ethan blinked. That sounded a lot more reasonable. "How many points do I need to jump from 90% to 100%?"
[ 30,000 System Points. ]
"Thirty thousand?!" Ethan shouted, jumping off the couch. "You damn black-hearted machine! You were so generous at the start! I spent 1,000 points to go from 10% to 20%! What is with this exchange rate now? 1 to 300?! You absolute scam artist!"
The system remained stubbornly silent, leaving Ethan to curse at the empty air. He had the blueprint for world-altering technology, but absolutely zero engineering skills to actually build it.
*****
The Dimensional Anomaly
Ethan was halfway through a second cup of coffee, still nursing his math-induced headache, when the air inside the Sanctum suddenly vibrated.
It wasn't a physical vibration—it was a ripple in the fabric of space. The Seal of the Vishanti window hummed low and ominous. Ethan froze, his magical senses flaring. This wasn't a sorcerer using a Sling Ring; this was a violent puncture in the local dimension.
[Urgent Mission Triggered: The Uninvited Guest]
Objective: A dimensional breach has occurred in Hell's Kitchen. An entity from another reality has successfully crossed over.
Reward: 5,000 System Points, 1x Rare Material Box.
[System Note: Is it a bird? Is it a plane? No, it's a headache for the New York Sanctum Master.]
"Five thousand points?" Ethan's eyes widened. "Is it another transmigrator like me? Is this how the Ancient One felt when I crashed her party?"
He didn't waste another second. He didn't know if this visitor was friendly or a world-eater, and he wasn't about to find out while sitting on his couch. He visualized the coordinates of the energy spike and snapped his fingers.
Crack!
He appeared in a dark, narrow alleyway in Hell's Kitchen. The air was still ionized, smelling of ozone and burnt sulfur. But the alley was empty.
"Did they escape?" Ethan muttered. He knelt, touching the ground. "No one escapes under my nose."
He channeled a tracking spell, letting his magic sniff out the foreign energy signature. A faint, glowing trail of purple mist only he could see began to snake out of the alley and up toward the rooftops.
"Going up, then."
Ethan started chasing. Crack! He appeared on the roof of a five-story tenement. He saw a flicker of movement two blocks away—a hooded figure shrouded in a dark cloak.
"Hey! Stop right there!" Ethan shouted.
The figure stopped for a split second, its head tilting back, then suddenly took off with a burst of speed that shouldn't be humanly possible. The figure jumped across a fifteen-foot gap between buildings with the fluid motion of a cat, landing and sprinting without losing an ounce of momentum.
"Man, what is this guy? How can he jump so far?" Ethan cursed, forced to keep up by chaining short-distance Apparitions. "I'm a master sorcerer and I still can't fly. What a joke. I really need that second template."
The figure was fast, moving with a mix of parkour and superhuman agility, but you can't outrun a teleporter. Ethan saw his opening. He visualized the landing point of the figure's next jump.
Crack!
Ethan appeared directly in front of the hooded figure mid-sprint. The figure skidded to a halt, nearly falling off the ledge. It tried to pivot and dive off the side of the building, but Ethan was done playing tag.
"Stay put!"
Ethan thrust his hands forward. Orange energy flared into reality, forming the Crimson Bands of Cyttorak. The glowing, indestructible ropes shot out, snaring the figure's limbs and torso in a fraction of a second.
The figure hit the gravel roof hard, completely immobilized.
Ethan walked closer, dusting off his hands. He paused, looking at how the bands had wrapped. One strap was pulled tight across the chest, and the legs were pinned together in a way that looked... well, highly suggestive.
"Uh... why does this binding position look so immoral?" Ethan muttered, his inner satirical voice piping up.
"Let me go, you freak!" a sharp, feminine shout erupted from beneath the hood.
Ethan froze. A woman? He reached out and pulled back the hood. Underneath was a face that definitely didn't belong in the MCU.
"You've got to be kidding me," Ethan breathed.