WEEKLY POWER GOALS 💎🔥 30→2ch | 60→5ch | 100→8ch | 200→15ch | 400→25ch⏰ Resets Monday!
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Brain storage facility.
DIO storage facility.
…
New York. A street-side shawarma joint.
"Shawarma, oh shawarma, oh shawarma…"
A girl in a staff uniform—maybe eleven, twelve at most—hummed behind the counter. Her hands blurred. Meat. Fries. Sauce. Wrap. Bag.
So fast her movements left afterimages.
"Yours. Take it."
She shoved the food forward. Her other hand swept the counter, scooping scattered coins.
"Next!"
Crisp British English.
The customer launched into rapid Spanish.
The girl's brow furrowed.
"Let's speak English!"
The line stretched down the block. The girl worked faster. Onlookers gawked.
They saw impossible hand speed. What they didn't see: the knife floating beneath the counter, slicing meat on its own. Fries hopping into the fryer. Flatbreads zipping through the air.
Sunset.
"Phew…"
Long breath.
Last customer. Finally.
"Let's check Confundus and Levitation proficiency… yes! Up by quite a bit!" She grinned, muttering to herself.
"Hermione!"
A middle-aged man in a chef's hat appeared.
"Another hard day's work. Here's your pay." He handed her an envelope.
She didn't glance at it. Pocketed it. Flashed a sunny smile.
"Thanks, boss!"
"Bye!"
Waving, silhouetted against sunset, she skipped away.
Yes. Hermione.
Hermione Granger.
Transmigrator.
Her past life name didn't matter.
More pressing concerns existed.
"Why did I go from a perfectly good-looking guy to twelve-year-old Hermione?!"
"And even if I had to become Hermione, shouldn't I be in Harry Potter?! Why the hell am I in Marvel?!"
She frantically rubbed her cheeks. The mirror showed young Emma Watson's face. Internal groan.
She'd loved Harry Potter in her past life. Never expected to wake up as a character from it.
"I liked the character! I didn't want to become her!"
When she'd first transmigrated, she'd barely accepted the cruel reality. Eagerly searched for owls and a Hogwarts letter—only to discover this wasn't London.
New York.
Especially when she saw a Stark Industries billboard with Robert Downey Jr.'s face. Brain short-circuit.
In her memories, she did live in London. Parents alive. The 1990s. That world had no Stark.
She'd even received her Hogwarts letter!
Which meant: yes, that side was Harry Potter.
But here in Marvel, it was 2008. She had zero identity.
Pure black-market existence!
After mental gymnastics and sorting the original Hermione's memories, obvious conclusion:
Right person. Wrong world.
But at least…
Thoughts refocused. Consciousness sank inward.
Inside her mind, an ancient hardcover book materialized. Intricate carvings. Classic grimoire aesthetic.
A thought. The book opened.
Text and icons appeared.
[Hermione Jane Granger]
[Magic Level: Lv1 (132/1000)]
Seven icons.
[Spells]
[Dark Magic]
[Ancient Magic]
[Alchemy]
[Potions]
[Magical Creatures]
[Artifacts]
First icon. The book flipped itself.
[Spells:]
[Levitation Charm Lv1 (453/1000), Reparo Lv1 (148/1000), Incendio Lv1 (65/1000), Confundus Charm Lv1 (388/1000)…]
Second icon.
[Dark Magic]
[Dark Harvest (Innate): Reap souls. Gain energy.]
Remaining five pages: blank.
Yes. This mysterious magic book was her cheat ability.
The moment she'd discovered it in despair, she'd understood its function.
Scan spells from books. Copy magic used by others. Record them.
Any recorded magic, she could learn instantly—though proficiency required repeated use. As proficiency grew, so did magic power.
Talent didn't matter. Keep using a spell, accumulate experience, level up. Stronger effects.
Simple mechanics. Brutally effective. Literal cheat code.
Theoretically, she could learn any magic. No restrictions.
Ancient Magic, Alchemy, Potions—same rules.
Magical Creatures and Artifacts… still mysterious.
The God of Transmigration blessed every transmigrator. Especially someone who'd sacrificed manhood for this. Extra-strong golden finger.
Whether Marvel or HP, in supernatural worlds, power was final.
Look at Marvel's ordinary people. Surface-level, life seemed like her past Earth. Reality? Superhumans, aliens, dimensional invasions—everywhere.
This Earth was the universe's vortex center. Ordinary people could walk down the street, hit a crisis. Dead.
The Mysterious Magic Book gave her survival confidence.
"But accessible spells are still too few. Other categories completely untouched. Can't collect the codex. And also…"
Her gaze returned to the sole lit icon under Dark Magic.
[Dark Harvest]
The one thing the book didn't fully explain.
"'Reap souls, gain energy.' Doesn't sound wholesome…" She stared at the lone Dark Magic icon, thinking.
Just that line. No other info.
Still, she had a hunch.
"I'll test it when I can. But right now, the school year over there should be starting soon… Time to leave."
She focused. The book flipped to the last page.
Two icons.
One: capital M. The other: a castle.
M was gray. Castle in color.
She selected the castle.
Next second, vertigo crashed over her.
Eyes opened.
Familiar, old-fashioned room. An owl perched on the windowsill, head cocked, staring unblinking.
Corner of her mouth quirked up.
What do you do when you cross into the wrong world?
Simple. Cross back.