Chapter 2: Bad News and the Golden Finger
After pushing open the door to his gun store, a triumphant Sherlock saw a dazzling array of firearms hanging on the walls, from AK series to AR series, all neatly packed.
From firearms to accessories, everything was neatly arranged and dazzling. Most exaggeratedly, in the very center of the entire space, there was even a Li Yunlong-style Italian Cannon.
Although there was a 'Not for Sale' sign next to the cannon, Sherlock still couldn't help but exclaim, as expected of the free America, the United States where gunfights happen every day.
If they can display a damn cannon in a store, what else can't they do?
Of course, besides these firearms, which could be called a treasure trove for military enthusiasts, what truly surprised Sherlock was his English proficiency.
The dense English letters on the display signs looked no different from Chinese to Sherlock. He even specifically tried speaking and found he could seamlessly switch between Chinese and English.
This made Sherlock so excited that tears almost came to his eyes. He had been among the top students in all his major courses during his four years of university, except for English.
It was as if English had a vendetta against Sherlock, failing him every year, requiring make-up exams every year, and needing him to retake the course every year.
If it weren't for his English teacher taking pity on Sherlock the following year and giving him a generous boost, getting his graduation certificate would probably have been an issue for Sherlock.
One transmigration solved two major problems in his life—poverty and English. Sherlock felt as if his life was reaching its peak.
Happily, he took down a fully modified AK-105 rifle from the wall, cradled it in his arms, enjoyed the sensation of racking the bolt, found the large chair at his sales counter, and contentedly turned on the TV.
With a gun in hand, Sherlock, feeling invincible, wanted to see what interesting TV programs were on the other side of the ocean.
However, as soon as the TV lit up, Sherlock's joyful and utterly content mood plummeted like a roller coaster to rock bottom.
The reason was simple: the person who appeared on the TV was someone Sherlock was intimately familiar with—Iron Man, Tony Stark!!!
Watching this man, who looked exactly like Robert Downey Jr., arrogantly embracing two impossibly beautiful models and flashing a peace sign at the camera, Sherlock felt his worldview shatter.
He didn't care about the precious AK in his arms, casually tossing the AK-105, which he had just treasured, onto the bar. Sherlock grabbed the computer next to him and started frantically Googling.
After a long while, Sherlock stopped typing, tears streaming down his face, with only one thought in his mind: I want to go home!!!!
The reason was simple: after an extensive online search, Sherlock clearly realized one thing—he seemed to have transmigrated into the Marvel Universe.
That's right, it was the Marvel Universe, where alien invasions happen at the drop of a hat, where there's the Purple Sweet Potato, the Universe's family planning committee, and where Wakanda, with technology centuries ahead of the World, still prefers to fight with cold weapons.
However, the good news was that in Sherlock's search, he didn't find any trace of that school for geniuses founded by the mind-reading bald Charles, nor any strange cities like Gotham City or Metropolis.
Well, it couldn't be said there was absolutely nothing. For some unknown reason, all these things only appeared in the comics of one company; they didn't exist in reality.
This made Sherlock breathe a sigh of relief. Fortunately, it wasn't some DC-Marvel merged American comic setting. Otherwise, given the dark style of the DC side, Sherlock felt it would be better to commit suicide sooner.
Although a simple search broadly confirmed that he might be in the so-called movie World, not those strange comic settings, Sherlock still felt a chill run down his spine.
After all, before transmigrating, Sherlock was born under the Red Flag, grew up in the spring breeze, and was well-protected by the country. The most evil thing he had ever witnessed was just petty gang fights.
Now, having transmigrated into this Marvel Universe where human lives are cheaper than dogs, and in the disaster-prone New York no less, Sherlock felt deep despair. Being an orphan, Sherlock had never had a strong sense of security since childhood.
Now knowing he had transmigrated into the Marvel Universe, Sherlock fell deeper into anxiety about his safety. In such a chaotic environment, Sherlock couldn't find anything to protect himself.
Rely on those guns around him? This thought was immediately rejected by Sherlock as soon as it appeared.
Don't joke. If he really had to face those super villains, never mind firearms, even if Sherlock carried that Italian Cannon like a gun, he would still feel his firepower was insufficient.
Just as Sherlock was holding his head, constantly thinking about whether he could somehow seize one of those so-called "protagonist's" opportunities, a pleasant ding suddenly sounded in Sherlock's ear.
The sound was so clear, so melodious. Based on the tropes of novels Sherlock had read before, Sherlock guessed that his golden finger had arrived.
"System?? System Dad?? System Mom??? Ancestor??? You dinged, now show up!!!!!"
Sherlock cursed while continuously striking strange poses, trying to prove that he hadn't imagined the sound, frantically trying to summon the System that had just dinged.
And indeed, Sherlock succeeded. The moment he struck a strange pose, Sherlock was still cursing, but he suddenly found himself in a place that looked like a library.
Rows upon rows of enormous bookshelves seemed endless. The books on them looked incredibly ancient, seemingly old enough to be considered antiques.
Next to Sherlock were two unusually tall, vending machine-like contraptions. After studying them for a while, Sherlock couldn't figure out what these two vending machines were selling.
And after Sherlock finished examining the two vending machines, his attention was immediately drawn to a long box on a table not far ahead.
Eagerly, he walked over and opened the box, and Sherlock was immediately stunned by what was inside.
Sherlock was incredibly familiar with the item inside; it was the elder wand from Harry Potter! And it was an elder wand made with exceptional craftsmanship, looking as if it were real.
"Holy crap?"
Sherlock picked up the elder wand from the box with some surprise. In an instant, a flood of memories poured into Sherlock's mind. To say memories wasn't quite right; it was more like a feeling.
The moment he picked up the elder wand, Sherlock was almost certain of one thing: this elder wand was absolutely loyal to him, and he could indeed use magic from Harry Potter with this elder wand!
After a long while, Sherlock gradually calmed down, seemingly having thought of something. He looked at the endless rows of bookshelves not far away, his mouth twitching.
If Sherlock wasn't mistaken, since he could now use magic with the elder wand, then those rows of bookshelves should be the so-called magic books from Harry Potter, right?
Casually tucking the elder wand behind his ear, Sherlock went to the bookshelves to verify his guess. With just one book, Sherlock shed tears of pain.
He never expected it! He had graduated long ago, and now he had to start a learning journey all over again, and it was entirely self-taught!
Thinking about the protagonists in the novels he read before transmigrating, either they had some sign-in System or some lie-flat System, all getting something for nothing.
Looking at his own endless rows of bookshelves, Sherlock couldn't help but feel sorrow welling up, shedding tears of humiliation.
Fortunately, he had experienced such things in his previous life, and coupled with the grind of 996, in just a short while, Sherlock composed himself.
Damn it, isn't it just about working hard? Seriously, which nation in the World can outwork my great China? For his own miserable life, Sherlock, with a look of indignation, picked up "Basic magic—From Beginner to Burial" and began to study it.