"Boom… boom…"
Feeling the continuous explosions outside and glancing at the indistinct, pixelated masses beside him, Li Qingyuan felt a headache coming on.
Could someone tell him why he was awakened by bombs instead of firecrackers?
He had been agonizing over how to face the constant marriage pressure from his relatives, but now he finally breathed a sigh of relief. As a middle-aged man nearing forty without a wife, family gatherings during the New Year were basically criticism sessions.
He was worried about how to deal with today's family interrogation yesterday, but now, he didn't have to worry at all!
What he needed to worry about now was how to survive!
Waking up in a new world after a nap? This was too much.
For others, they might hesitate for a while when encountering such a situation, but for Li Qingyuan, who was a failed novelist in his previous life, wasn't time-traveling a normal, basic operation?
That's right, before he time-traveled, he was a struggling, unsuccessful writer. Because his writing was terrible, his worldview was flawed, he lacked innovation, and had no imagination, he had no readers at all. If he hadn't also worked as a security guard, he probably wouldn't have been able to survive.
But now.
Li Qingyuan looked around at his surroundings, and felt like he was going to lose this time!
He was currently in the living room on the second floor. The original owner of this body had been preparing dinner with his parents when a missile, seemingly from nowhere, plummeted through the ceiling and exploded with a BOOM.
Logically, being hit point-blank by a missile should have been a death sentence, unless he possessed superhuman abilities. However, it was clear that the god of transmigrations didn't play by the rules.
Even though the body's parents and two other unfortunate souls caught in the blast had all become unidentifiable mosaics, his body remained completely unscathed, not even a scratch.
Of course, it wasn't entirely unscathed, considering the soul had been swapped!
He patted his cheeks, and the remaining soul fragments provided him with his memories.
The unfortunate child he had transmigrated into was named Jack Ma, an 18-year-old Chinese-born individual from the small Eastern European nation of Sokovia.
"Damn it!"
Li Qingyuan couldn't help but curse after learning about his situation from the memory fragments.
Jack Ma's parents were native People of the Flower Nation, but three months before his birth, they had sold five ancestral courtyard houses in the Imperial Capital and moved to Sokovia to make a living.
Well! This story is enough to make everyone cry with laughter, but considering the social environment at the time, this kind of suffocating situation did happen quite a bit.
Fortunately, although Jack Ma's parents did something suffocating, they were also quite diligent. After more than a decade of hard work in Sokovia, relying on the People of the Flower Nation's love for real estate, they finally owned a building in Sokovia.
That's right, you read that right, he transmigrated with a building. Jack Ma is also a second-generation building owner in Sokovia.
But now...
Listening to the constant bombing sounds in his ears, he figured his life as a second-generation building owner was probably over!
He shook his head, throwing his dream of being a second-generation building owner to the back of his mind. What he needed to consider now was how to survive.
The gunshots and bombing outside were a chaotic mess. Although he didn't know what exactly was happening, he knew with absolute certainty that something major had happened! Even missiles could fly into his living room, so one could imagine how chaotic it must be outside.
But staying put was definitely not a good idea either.
Because there was a missile stuck in his head!
This six-story apartment building belonged to the parents of his predecessor. The first floor was a restaurant, the second floor was where his family lived, and the third floor and above were all rented out.
The missile that had just flown in seemed to have come from the third-floor window, blasting through the floor of the third floor and the ceiling of the second floor, then exploding in his living room.
And now, the missile stuck in his head was about a meter long, diagonally embedded in the third-floor floor at a bizarre angle.
The missile could explode at any moment. Even if it didn't explode, if it fell from the third floor, it would probably go "boom."
So, his top priority was to quickly escape from this dangerous building and find a safe place to hide.
Although it wasn't safe outside either, it was at least much better than having a missile on his head!
But as he prepared to make a run for it, he suddenly noticed that the missile had the Stark Industries trademark on it.
Stark Industries?
Li Qingyuan's mind buzzed. He didn't really have a concept when he learned that the country he was in was Sokovia. After all, Eastern Europe was a mess of small countries. Unless you were an expert in world geography, you wouldn't dare say you could remember all the country names.
But Sokovia plus Stark Industries... If he still couldn't remember, then he would truly deserve the title of a failed writer!
So, he'd actually, inexplicably, transmigrated to Marvel?
And what was even more infuriating was that everyone else who transmigrated to Marvel started in New York. The newbie village chief was either Phil Coulson, Spider-Man, Iron Man, or Kingpin.
But him?
He started with a missile developed by Stark Industries directly in his face? The difference was just too big, wasn't it?
And if he remembered correctly, this body's parents seemed to have just been sent to heaven by a missile developed by Stark Industries, right? If you really had to count, wouldn't Iron Man be his father and mother's killer? "Waa...waa..."
Just as he was lost in thought, he heard a series of crying sounds in the gaps of the explosion.
There were still survivors?
Li Qingyuan looked up. Because his vision was blocked, he couldn't see the scene on the third floor, but it was obvious that the crying came from there.
But he had no intention of rescuing anyone right now. Who knew when that missile would explode? He'd better get out of here.
He'd finally managed to transmigrate once, and he didn't want to do it all over again just for being a good guy.
This was the Marvel universe, a place crawling with bosses and where aliens went crazy everywhere. With his weak little arms and legs, he couldn't possibly live up to the title of hero.
Besides, with his personality, being a hero was just too difficult for him.
The door had been destroyed by the shockwave from the explosion, but fortunately, this was only the second floor. Jumping down at most meant twisting an ankle; no big deal.
Just as he took a step, preparing to go to the window, his footsteps inexplicably turned back.
It seemed?
In his memory, the couple who were renting the apartment upstairs from him had a rather odd last name.
It seemed to be someone called Maximoff?