My days as a thinker at Marvel

In the heart of Manhattan's Hell's Kitchen in a free-for-all America, a refined young man sat within the grandeur of what appeared to be a lavish church. However, it lacked the familiar presence of a Jesus statue or a confessional booth where one might seek repentance. The place resembled a church only in appearance, its interior bearing more resemblance to a bar. The sole nod to its supposed identity was an ornate, exaggeratedly luxurious cross visible upon entering—albeit devoid of Christ.

The young man, seated at the bar on the left, swirled a glass of whiskey in his hand and mused, Has it really been three years since I came here? Qin Li thought back to his days on Blue Star, where he would game at internet cafes in a suit, yelling at his screen. Damn you, Monkey King! All I did was swing a hammer as my Crusader! He remembered his frustration at a useless ally playing a frail swordsman character who contributed nothing but pitiful scratches. His decision to switch to a full offensive build and smash everything with his hammer was born of necessity. "This Luke boss is so fragile, why does he crumble under a few hits?" he muttered.

The memory of his game froze—literally. The boss's health bar stuck at 99,999,999, then his screen flickered with an "Account anomaly" message, logging him out. As he angrily reconnected, a ban notification greeted him. "What the hell? I'm a VIP player!" Qin Li fumed, kicking the PC tower in frustration. As he considered calling customer support to complain about his banned account, the computer let out a loud bang and died, taking Qin Li with it.

When Qin Li regained consciousness, he found himself in the Marvel Universe. His realization came from the newspaper plastered to his face, dominated by headlines about Tony Stark's scandals rather than national news. It screamed Freedom, American style. Alongside his bizarre rebirth, he discovered a system akin to his in-game Crusader. It wasn't sentient—no matter how he begged, calling it "System Daddy" or "System Boss." However, it allowed him to access his character panel, inventory, materials, and even personal storage, all transferrable to reality. His armor and outfits could be hidden, which spared him public embarrassment from his flamboyant priestly costume.

Qin Li quickly grasped the system's nature: he was his Crusader character. His initial fear of perishing in the Marvel Universe soon gave way to confidence. Why worry when superheroes bore the brunt of threats while he fortified them with endless buffs? If worst came to worst, he could always hammer his way through.

The church doors swung open, and the delicate chime of the bell above broke his reverie. Qin Li looked up to see a handsome man in a crisp black suit, wielding a blind man's cane and wearing dark sunglasses. What a shame, he's blind, Qin Li mused.

"Well, well, our dashing attorney Matt. What brings you to my humble church today?" Qin Li quipped, swirling his glass to let the ice clink enticingly, drawing Matt's attention.

Using his cane to expertly navigate the room, avoiding every obstacle, Matt seated himself across from Qin Li. "Father Li, I owe you for these three years of relative peace. Thanks to you, I've had some decent vacations. Mind pouring me a whiskey?"

"I've told you many times, Matt—don't call me 'Father.' I don't believe in God. Call me Li, or just Qin Li. Besides, I've done nothing grand—just secured my own safety." Qin Li downed his whiskey in one gulp, setting the glass on the bar.

"Then why not do more? Every night, I still hear screams, pleas for mercy, echoing through the streets. And I can't save them all!" Matt slammed his hands on the bar, his frustration palpable. Despite his sunglasses and blindness, it felt as though his gaze pierced Qin Li.

"We've had this conversation before, Matt. Heaven has its rules, and so does Hell. You can't single-handedly change the world; you're not God, are you? You can't just say, 'Let there be light,' and there it is." Qin Li, unfazed by Matt's outburst, poured himself another drink. After half a glass, he continued, "Even if you roam the streets every night in your tights as a vigilante, you can't save everyone, can you?"

"No, but saving one at a time is better than nothing," Matt admitted, collapsing back into his seat, defeated. He downed his whiskey in one go, then slouched in silence.

Qin Li sighed and took a sip, recalling their first encounter. He had stumbled upon Matt in an alley, injured after taking on a drug gang. Outnumbered and outgunned, Matt had been shot twice and was barely holding on. Qin Li, curious about his newfound powers, decided to intervene.

A gang member aimed a gun at him. "Yellow monkey, turn around and walk away, or I'll paint a flower on your forehead with this bullet."

The slur lit a fire within Qin Li. He trembled with rage, standing still as the gang laughed at what they assumed was fear. "Pathetic," sneered the gunman, turning to his comrades. "Bet he wets himself when I pull the trigger." Before they could warn him, Qin Li vanished and reappeared before the man, his movement instantaneous.

"Yellow monkey?" Qin Li seized the man by the neck and hoisted him off the ground. "You want to plant flowers on my head?" He hurled the man into a nearby lamp post with a sickening crunch, the pole bending under the impact. The man crumpled in a V-shape, screaming, "My back! Someone help!" The spectacle left Matt and the remaining gang dumbfounded.

"Kung fu! The Asian knows kung fu!" one gang member screamed in terror before being silenced by a gunshot from his leader. "Kung fu can't stop bullets. Fire at will!" the leader ordered.

Qin Li responded calmly. "Sanctuary Shield." A golden wall with intricate patterns appeared, blocking the incoming bullets effortlessly. "A miracle! He's God's messenger here to punish us!" one gang member muttered, falling to his knees in awe.

As the shield shattered into glimmering shards, Qin Li stepped forward, golden spears floating behind him. With a flick of his wrist, the spears shot forward, impaling the gang. The leader, clutching his chest, fell silent.

Turning to Matt, Qin Li activated a healing spell, green light enveloping him. The wounds closed, bullets expelled from his body. "Why save me?" Matt asked weakly. Qin Li smirked. "You don't look like a bad guy. Tights like yours? You're either a superhero or a pervert." He left before Matt could retort, disappearing into the night.

Back at the bar, Qin Li refilled their glasses. "So, what's the real reason you're here today?" Matt's face darkened. "Last night, I fought something... unnatural. They healed quickly, regenerating broken limbs unless I destroyed their heads. They had fangs. Vampires, maybe?"

Qin Li froze mid-sip. Vampires? In Marvel? Then it clicked. Blade's a Marvel character. Makes sense, I guess.