Time flew by, and Lucas was now eighteen years old.
When he first realized he had transmigrated into the body of a kid, it took him a long time to come to terms with it.
He had been a handsome young man , answering the call of the great "transmigrator army." Yet here he was, stuck in the body of a kid.
Lucas sulked for years over it. During that time, he refused to look in the mirror. Every time he caught sight of his reflection, irritation boiled inside him.
George and his wife even thought he was sick. They took him to countless psychologists across New York, but nothing seemed to help. Still, they never gave up on him.
In the end, Lucas figured it out on his own. "So what if I'm in a kid's body ? I got a second life—what, am I supposed to kill myself and try again?"
Once he accepted it, he realized something else—among people, he was ridiculously good-looking. Not the golden-haired, blue-eyed type, but a striking black-haired, dark-eyed guy who could rival Tom Cruise and Leonardo DiCaprio.
He reluctantly accepted his new looks. And honestly, that face made him insanely popular at school. Back in kindergarten, little girls used to share their candy and snacks with him. By middle school, crowds of girls surrounded him. Now in high school, he was officially one of the campus heartthrobs, always ranked top three in the school's "Most Handsome" forum posts.
Lucas himself didn't care much. After all, he'd been handsome in his past life too. Being good-looking was nothing new.
In his past life, he'd been the college heartthrob, leaving trails of smitten girls everywhere he went. Scouts had even tried to recruit him into the entertainment industry.
But back then, Lucas had been a second-gen rich kid, with a family that owned a chain business. Who would've thought that one all-nighter would send him straight into another world? After some soul-searching, he'd accepted it. He couldn't go back, so his parents and the family business would just have to be left in his younger brother's hands.
Lucas was staring blankly at the mirror when a sweet voice broke his thoughts.
"Lucas, what are you doing?"
A stunning blonde appeared in his reflection—it was Gwen Stacy, his adoptive sister.
Yes, technically they were the same age. But thanks to that cursed birth certificate that said he was born two months after her, he was officially the "younger brother." In reality, Lucas felt he should've been the older one.
Gwen plopped down next to him casually. Though they weren't related by blood, she treated him like her real little brother. The rest of the family did too.
At eighteen, Gwen was the picture of youthful beauty and energy, her model-like figure and gorgeous face putting her at the very top of every boy's "dream date" list at school.
But she never showed interest in anyone. Instead, she clung to Lucas all the time. Outsiders often thought they were dating.
"Nothing. Just zoning out."
Lucas snapped back to reality, glancing at Gwen. He had to admit—everything about her matched his taste. Especially those long legs. Damn, they hit him right in the weakness.
"Come on! We're gonna be late for school!"
Without giving him a choice, Gwen dragged him toward the door. Lucas hurriedly grabbed his backpack.
"By my estimate, there are still about three years until the Marvel timeline officially begins… Once it does, I'll get George and the whole family to immigrate to some other city. Better to stay far away from this mess."
That was Lucas' plan.
On TV, Tony Stark was already a tabloid sensation, partying with one woman today and another tomorrow. You couldn't avoid seeing him even if you tried.
Lucas, after eighteen years here, still hadn't awakened any golden-finger cheats or special powers. He wasn't a mutant either. In a world like Marvel, if you had no abilities, the safest option was to get the hell out.
Arm-in-arm, Gwen chattered nonstop all the way to the bus stop, while Lucas listened quietly or laughed along.
A few years ago, George and Helen had another two sons, so the family had expanded again. Their old apartment was too small, so they'd moved into a two-story detached house in Queens.
When the siblings reached the bus stop, a few other teens their age were already waiting.
Though both Lucas and Gwen had their driver's licenses, George never allowed them to drive. His reason? New York traffic was a nightmare, and most drivers on the road were lunatics. As NYPD Commissioner, George knew better than anyone how dangerous the city could be.
"Hey! Took you two long enough. The bus will be here in a minute!"
A bespectacled nerd waved at them.
"Peter, you need new glasses. There are still five minutes left—and that idiot driver is never on time anyway."
Lucas grabbed Gwen's wrist and pointed at her watch.
"Fine, fine. What's a couple minutes?"
Peter shrugged helplessly, craning his neck to peer down the road.
Yes—this was none other than Peter Parker, still the nerdy, bookish kid. He hadn't been bitten by the radioactive spider yet, but it wouldn't be long. Iron Man would appear in a few years, and Spider-Man wouldn't be far behind.
The school bus soon wobbled to a stop, and everyone boarded.
Lucas, Gwen, and Peter had been classmates since middle school. Gwen and Peter were top students, while Lucas had always been the eternal underachiever.
Now, with graduation approaching, nothing had changed. Gwen and Peter were still academic stars, and Lucas… was still at the bottom.
The ride passed quickly, and they arrived at Midtown High.
During class, Lucas slumped on his desk, fiddling with his phone, while Gwen and Peter quietly studied. That stark contrast said it all.
By lunchtime, Lucas and Peter were joking around on their way to the cafeteria. The moment they walked in, Lucas noticed Peter staring off in one direction. Curious, he followed his gaze.
There, at a table, sat a group of pretty girls. At the head of the group was none other than his sister Gwen, flanked by a redhead and a dark-haired beauty.
Lucas recognized them. The redhead was Mary Jane, Peter's future girlfriend. The dark-haired girl was Felicia Hardy.
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