Marvel Cinematic Universe—non-Sacred Timeline.
The Continental Hotel, Penthouse Suite.
"Boss, there's a new assassination contract—two million dollars. Care to take it?"
A striking blonde in a tailored skirt suit—every inch the consummate secretary—stood before Yamamoto Kaito and spoke evenly.
"Two million dollars—that's not chump change."
"Let me give you the mission details first, then you can decide whether to accept this $2 million assignment."
"You know me," Kaito replied, eyes narrowing as he studied her. "I'm selective about my targets. By the way, is the mark Black?"
Perched on the windowsill, Kaito cradled a square glass of whiskey. He slowly lowered his gaze from the city skyline to the woman addressing him—Miss Kinuko.
"No," she said.
"Of course not Black." Kaito toyed with his glass, tone blunt. "There are two things I despise: racism and Black people."
Kinuko raised an eyebrow at his earnest severity.
"If any of those clowns have a problem with me, let them come talk it out. I'll send them exactly where they belong."
Seeing his steely conviction, Kinuko shrugged—point conceded.
"Alright. The new bounty target is John Wick. The employer wants him dead ASAP. Two million dollars flat. Interested?"
At the name John Wick, Kaito's mind drifted. The man who razed an entire crime syndicate over a single dog.
Is his story about to begin?
Kinuko tapped the dossier photo. Confirmed—this was the legendary Continental cleaner himself, not some namesake.
Kaito swirled the amber liquid in his glass, took a deliberate sip, and set it down. His face remained impassive. "Too low. I'm out."
"Why not?" Kinuko asked, genuinely curious.
"You're new to the field; you probably don't have the full picture. John Wick was once the world's deadliest hitman—a legend even before he retired."
As Kaito spoke, Kinuko's eyes widened with comprehension. She nodded. "Yeah, that price is pathetic."
She tilted her head, curiosity dancing in her gaze. "Master Shinobi, how do you stack up against him?"
A faint smile curved Kaito's lips. "I'm not even in the same league."
His confidence—and utter indifference—made it clear he didn't regard Wick's prowess as a serious threat.
Kinuko's eyes sparkled. Clearly, this contract was off the table. She rose and said, "I'll scout for something more fitting."
"Go ahead."
With his blessing, she slipped out, heading toward the hotel's mission briefing hall.
Kaito watched her leave, then returned his attention to the night's lights beyond the glass.
—
I was born as Feng Yi on Blue Star.
I died mid-rage one afternoon after pouring three thousand yuan into a Naruto mobile gacha and still failing to summon Jiraiya. Then—poof—I woke up in this world.
This planet is also called Earth, but it's nothing like the one I knew. In Times Square, a colossal Stark Industries billboard blazes overhead, and every entertainment tabloid is fixated on Tony Stark's latest paramour.
Here is the Marvel Universe—though I prefer to think of it as a glitzy American variety show wearing MCU branding.
When my past-life memories reemerged, I found myself filthy and ragged, lying in a desolate alley in New York. Judging from my clothes, I must have been orphaned—or a runaway child.
As for the infuriating Naruto mobile game, it manifested in my mind as the "Golden Finger" system—forever stuck on its loading screen.
Then I was taken in by a pair of hit-couples who run the Continental Hotel's assassin wing. They found me at six years old and raised me as a weapon. Their methods were brutal—especially for an abandoned child. Without that maddening Golden Finger in my head fueling my will, I probably would have died in training.
By the time I was a child of ten, my hands were stained with blood. I tried to run once, but my body was too weak and my system unawakened. I failed and was cruelly punished. After that, I stopped resisting. Life was a violation; if I couldn't change it, I'd learn to embrace it.
Under my foster parents' ruthless tutelage, I mastered every art of assassination—disguise, hand-to-hand combat, tracking and counter-tracking, marksmanship, even the physics and chemistry behind explosive weapons.
Formal schooling? Never. I'm no bourbon-swigging country boy who lucked into a military patron. Yet I received a thorough self-education—enough to rival any high-achiever's. Knowledge is essential for a professional killer.
On my eighteenth birthday, I finally awakened my Golden Finger: the full Naruto system fully loaded. That same year, I graduated from assassin training, and I adopted my foster parents' surname—becoming Yamamoto Kaito. Though I ultimately betrayed them, I kept their family name and lived up to their ambition: to become one of the Continental's most notorious cleaners.
By the time my system awakened, I was already a top-ranked professional killer on the High Table roster. After more than a decade of training, I had zero intention of a career change.