Alan woke up in a dark alley in an unfamiliar place. The last thing he remembered was buying some new game discs, planning to enjoy them later with his friends.
On the way home, while crossing the road with his friends, the traffic light malfunctioned and suddenly turned green just as he stepped forward. That was when the all-time legend, Truck-kun, hit him. And now… he had been isekai'd.
"How do I know this?" Alan thought to himself. Because right in front of him was a giant billboard featuring the legendary hero Captain America, and just beyond the alley stood the tower of none other than playboy millionaire Tony Stark.
The entire world will become a battleground—a cat-and-mouse game between superheroes and supervillains, ranging from street-level threats to dangers capable of destroying the entire multiverse.
Alan was confused. How could he possibly survive in this world, where an ordinary person was no better than an ant—something that could be crushed at any moment without leaving the slightest impact?
Just as he was lost in thought, a boy who looked strikingly similar to Tom Holland appeared from around the corner and called out,
"Alan, dude, seriously? Why did you even decide to fight Flash? You know he's on the football team, right? Not to mention, he's twice your size!"
At that moment, fragments of memory that didn't belong to him suddenly surged through his mind. The realization hit him—this wasn't a simple isekai. He hadn't just been transported; he had transmigrated into another person's body.
A chilling thought followed. Had he devoured the original soul of this body? Because now, buried deep in his mind, he could clearly recall memories that where buried on his deep mind.
Alan also glimpsed the memories of this body and instinctively replied to Peter in the way the previous Alan used to speak. Yes—Peter Parker, the Spider-Man of the Marvel Universe, was now standing right in front of him.
"Nah, Peter. I had to stand up for myself. It was now or never. Besides, he was bullying you too. Next time, we should take him on together," Alan said with a smirk.
Peter's expression faltered, caught between frustration and guilt. He let out a sigh, then said, "Come on, man, don't be like that. Look at you—you're badly injured."
But as Peter helped him up, his eyes widened. There were bloodstains all over Alan's clothes, yet… not a single drop of blood flowed from his body. No bruises. No cuts. Nothing at all, despite the condition he looked to be in.
Peter, confused, kept silent, while Alan only thought to himself, Where are the injuries on his body… what exactly happened to him?
The two of them began walking side by side, heading toward their homes.
After returning home, Alan stepped into the small apartment he now lived in. According to the memories of the original Alan, he was an orphan. This place wasn't his by right—it had been provided to him by the next-door neighbor and owner, George Stacy, the father of Gwen Stacy. In some universes, she was famously known as Ghost-Spider.
Alan tossed his bag onto the sofa and looked around. The apartment was surprisingly spacious, far more than what an orphan like him could have afforded on his own.
The reason became clear from the memories he now carried. Alan's father had once given his life protecting George Stacy. Out of respect and a sense of obligation, George had taken it upon himself to support his late colleague's son, ensuring that Alan had a place to live and could focus on his studies without worry.
Just as Alan began to feel a little calm after all the chaos that had happened, a strange voice echoed directly in his mind.
"Loading… Drawing System."
A translucent screen appeared before him, displaying a glowing loading bar.
After some initial communication with the system, Alan learned its purpose. It wasn't an ordinary system—it was a Card Drawing System. But these weren't normal cards. Each card came from different universes, carrying unique powers, abilities, or even beings. The system explained that many of its functions were currently locked due to insufficient energy, which it would slowly recover by drawing from the void.
For now, it granted Alan a Daily Draw, allowing him to pull one card for free every day.
Curious, Alan used his very first draw. The screen morphed into something resembling an arcade machine, its gears spinning and lights flashing. After a few seconds, a card slid out of the digital slot.
[Two Draws Card] – Grants two additional draws.
Alan's eyes widened. With anticipation, he activated it, and the machine spun again.
The first card he received was a Necromancer Card—a profession card. By choosing it, he could assume the role of a necromancer, gaining access to dark arts and the ability to command the undead.
The second card stunned him even more. It depicted a massive, red-skinned warrior with four muscular arms—none other than a Tetramand, famously known as Four Arms from his childhood cartoon Ben 10.
After syncing with the system, Alan realized the truth. The card didn't summon a living Tetramand, but rather the corpse of a dead one. However, with his new necromancer profession, he could reanimate it into an undead servant.
A grin formed on his face. Necromancers relied on their undead as their greatest source of power in battle. And his very first summon wouldn't be some skeleton or weak zombie—it would be a towering undead Tetramand.
Alan quickly crushed the Necromancer Profession Card.
The moment it shattered, a surge of energy spread through his body. His veins burned, his skin turned slightly paler, and a cold aura seeped out from within him. Knowledge not his own began flooding into his mind—the fundamentals of corpse transformation, zombie creation, and skeletal summoning and creation. By the time the process ended, a new screen appeared before him:
[Class: Necromancer] – Successfully Acquired.
Alan smirked. So this is my class ceremony, huh?
Without hesitation, he then crushed the Tetramand Card. A heavy thud echoed through the apartment as a massive body suddenly materialized in front of him. The sheer size of it dwarfed the room—red skin, four muscular arms, and a build that screamed raw power. Even as a corpse, it was intimidating.
Alan's thoughts raced. Tetramands… a race famous for their overwhelming physical strength. If I transform this into a zombie, it'll be far more effective than any ordinary summon.
Drawing upon the new knowledge granted by his class, Alan began his first act as a necromancer. Black mist seeped from his hands and enveloped the Tetramand's body.
The system's knowledge whispered inside his head:
Skeletons → Conversion
Zombies → Conversion
Naturally, Alan chose the latter. Slowly, the Tetramand's corpse twitched as the necrotic energy seeped into it. Its eyes flickered with a dim, eerie glow—no longer alive, but not quite dead either.
His first summon… a Zombie Tetramand.