"Aunt Miller, thank you so much for everything these past few days. Well~ I'd like to wander around on my own for a while before school starts."
"Oh~ So soon, you're tired of me already?"
"No~! It's not that. Look, I've been in New York for a week now, and you've been taking such great care of me. But you still have your big hospital to manage, and I feel bad taking up your time."
"Hmph~ Little rascal, trying to guilt-trip me? Fine, if you want to explore on your own, I won't tag along tomorrow. But be careful. Even though America looks flashy, it's got its rough edges. There are gangs and other dangers—especially at night. Don't wander into shady areas."
"Okay~ Got it!"
"Do you have enough money? I heard your mom didn't send much for your studies this time~"
"Don't worry~ Aunt Miller, you know I've been supporting myself for a while."
"That's good. Call me if anything happens. I'm heading out now~"
"Goodbye, Aunt Miller!"
...
As dusk settled, Naoh waved goodbye to the woman across the street. Watching her walk away with that elegant poise and familiar smile, he sighed helplessly.
"Sigh~ What's even going on with my life…"
Once her car turned the corner and vanished, Naoh looked at the stylish two-story home before him. His eyes drifted instinctively to the bottom left corner—and just like that, his mood lifted. He shut the iron gate and strolled inside.
Naoh wasn't a normal teen—he was a transmigrator. Or reincarnated, depending on how you look at it.
After being killed in his previous life by a falling telephone pole, his soul somehow entered this world—specifically, his current body, back when he was still in his mother's womb.
He had been aware—trapped in the void of thought—until he was born. Sixteen years had passed since then~
Born in a peaceful mountain town, Naoh quickly began treating life like a new, exciting sandbox game.
Besides training in piano and various world instruments, and constantly practicing voice control, Naoh also dove into film and media studies. Directing, cinematography, and screenwriting were his favorite self-study subjects.
With the insight and memory from his past life, Naoh had already won a handful of local film competition awards.
Then one day, Aunt Miller visited and brought along a suitcase of foreign goodies. Among toys and gadgets, there were also two English books.
One was titled The Brief and Glorious Life of Captain America...
According to her, it was a bestselling biography overseas—non-fiction, chronicling Steve Rogers' heroic legacy.
Seeing Chris Evans' determined face on the inner cover—radiating justice and courage—Naoh got chills.
Without hesitation, he made a life-altering decision in under two seconds.
From now on, he'd train his body and mind. Martial arts. Discipline. Combat.
He was nine years old.
But as they say, literature for the poor, martial arts for the rich. Training required more than passion—it needed resources. Naoh had some experience making money thanks to his old life's know-how.
Still, martial arts in a world like this? Far from simple.
Because this wasn't just any world—this was the Marvel Universe.
Here, a kung fu master might still fall to a basic handgun. And up above? Superheroes, alien invaders, and gods casually bent the laws of physics.
Sometimes, all it took was one freak lab accident or a mystery serum to turn someone into a powerhouse.
In such a reality, pure martial arts had a low return on investment.
But it wasn't completely useless.
After all, figures like the Mandarin had shown the potential of combining ancient martial techniques with alien power—he possessed not only ten alien rings but also a brutal internal energy technique.
Places like Kamar-Taj and Kunlun still held sacred, hidden traditions. Their teachings weren't flashy, but they were effective. Ancient. Deadly.
So, for Naoh, finding a place with a real legacy—a legitimate source of mystical knowledge—was everything.
Eventually, he made up his mind. One day, he'd travel to Kamar-Taj and seek out the teachings of the Ancient One.
At the very least, he knew the legendary city existed.
And so began his long preparation. Daily physical training. Study of martial philosophy. Even old spiritual texts found their way onto his shelf.
He also spent time swinging a kitchen knife around like a lunatic, mimicking fight scenes he'd seen.
Sadly, in all those years, his greatest achievement was shooting a badger in the forest with an amateur bow.
The result? A $500 fine, a stern lecture from the police, and a furious beating from his mother.
Even worse, his handcrafted bow was confiscated and broken. He sulked for weeks.
But eventually, things started looking up~
...
"Hehe~ I'm a transmigrator after all. The golden finger might come late, but it never misses its cue~!"
Back inside, Naoh ate dinner, showered, flexed in the mirror, changed into workout gear, grabbed a kitchen knife (for precaution), and headed to his room.
Lying on the bed, he glanced—once again—at the lower left corner of his vision.
05:34
05:33
05:32
...
A digital countdown.
It had appeared in his vision a year ago. Unintrusive—but impossible to ignore.
Given his unusual reincarnation, Naoh quickly concluded this had to be the countdown to the awakening of his golden finger—that special ability granted to transmigrators.
It couldn't just be a clock or a timebomb..… right?
So here he was. The final five minutes ticking down.
And with a kitchen knife clutched in hand, he was ready for whatever would come next.
After all, who knew what form his power would take…?
T/N -
T/N: That's a wrap for Chapter 1!
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