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Reincarnated Marvel Gunman

A unlucky bastard gets reincarnated into the marvel universe with a gunfighter system. Will his luck turn for the better in his second life? ----------------- If you have question's or such ill try to answer them when i can! And feel free to point out Engrish (grammar mistakes) if you see it! ^^ Last thing, im trying to improve my irl situation a bit so if you have a spare coin or two, you can support me at https://www.patreon.com/ordinarywriter

NickTheStone · アニメ·コミックス
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46 Chs

The New Life

Slowly opening my eyes, I looked at the unfamiliar white ceiling. Raising my head and looking around the mostly white and clean room, unlike my pigsty, I got up from the bed. I started taking somewhat shaky steps toward the bathroom, or what I assumed to be one at least.

Feeling an occasional pang of pain in my head as the memories of the owner flowed in, I finally managed to get in front of the bathroom mirror. 

The first thing I noticed was that I still had my eyes. A pair of dark brown eyes, bordering on black, stared back at me from the mirror—dead fish eyes, as I used to call them. The rest of me, however, was completely different! A well-built body, accompanied by an above-average face. Short black hair, different from my originally long brown one.

Looking at the mountain of a man I was, I was suddenly impressed. God or whoever gave me a second chance at life, and I started off so much better! If only she could see it, she'd be proud... or happy...

Just as I decided to try not to dwell on that, the pain in my head subsided, and I received the complete memories of the person I reincarnated into. Twenty-five-year-old John Wesley. Raised in an orphanage, you'd expect his life to be quite bad, yet he was still much luckier than me. 

He graduated from university with the tuition fees waived due to his outstanding grades, always among the top ten. Yet he went to join the police force after that, wanting to fight crime and help people. A noble soul indeed, or simply an idiot.

As I processed more and more memories, the line between me and him started blurring. Finally, as the two streams of memory merged, a voice resounded in my ear.

"You are him, he is you. You're the same soul. I don't know exactly why your soul split, but hey i fixed it! Anyways," the shadow's voice echoed, "since you absorbed the memories, here's your thing, and with it, I'm out! Tata~!" Sounding cheerful, the voice suddenly faded from my head. 

A complete and utter nutcase...

Is it that all outer god or whatever things like him are that happy go lucky? 

Yet as I was cussing him in my head, an orange window popped out in front of me.

<Welcome to the Greatest Gunman System! User's soul is being bound...>

Inspecting the window, I noticed three things. The first was the skull of a bull on top, with a Wild West aesthetic to the entire window. The second thing I noticed was the massive skill tree. Specific weapons also existed, some with pretty horrifying effects like slowing down time for me or instant reloading. And the last thing I noticed was the small stats window at the bottom left corner.

Strength,dexterity, intelligence and perception.

This entire thing looked like a proper system for a cheat reincarnated person, didn't it? Like actual thought was put into it, so to say, compared to just gambling or something. Hard work will definitely pay off then! Otherwise with my luck if I gambled for a hundred years I would only get garbage, without exception! 

My spirits lifted high, I started humming a tune while waiting for the system to bind. Going back and sitting down on my bed, I contemplated what I would do first...

<Ding! System bound.>

Seeing the window that suddenly refreshed itself with a much more vibrant color, I looked at the stats first thing.

STR 7

DEX 6

INT 7

PER 7

<System 5 note 1: is the average stat for a human. This rough representation. The true value has up to digits behind it. Do you wish display those digits?>

"No, I don't want visual clutter! It'd drive me insane!"

<Understood! >

Seeing that the stats didn't change and suddenly have decimals behind them, I felt happy at it being an honest system. I then rose from my bed to make food, ready to enjoy my day. However, that was just my wishful thinking, as my phone rang suddenly. With a smile on my face, I picked up the phone that was on a counter next to the bed. Seeing the name "Boss" did make me a bit nervous, however.

"Hello, ho—"

"GET YOUR ASS TO THE STATION NOW! WHY ARE YOU LATE ON A BUSY MONDAY LIKE THIS?!"

Not even letting me reply, my immediate supervisor, Sarge Smith, hung up on me. Shaking my head, I went to quickly get dressed, lastly picking up my two holsters, one carrying a Glock 17, the other a Smith and Wesson Model 10 revolver. Yet as I put on the ankle holster carrying my Model 10, I heard a system prompt again.

Ding!

<System note 2: Unless specified by the skill description, most weapons can still receive benefits from it, but system and old western will have comparatively almost no restrictions. Seeing that you a revolver now, you've unlocked your first ability, Focus!>

<Focus: 10 For seconds a day, time slows down for you to 10% of the original speed. Can be upgraded further.>

Reading the prompt, I thought for a moment, then swapped the revolver and Glock, so the Glock was on my ankle and the revolver on my waist. Feeling satisfied, I left my apartment, fully dressed and ready to see some action. 

Getting into my car and turning on the radio, I leisurely drove off from the underground parking. As I left the tunnel leading down, I had prepared myself, yet I was still starstruck.

The city of New York! Having seen it in the memories just now, and seeing it in person was truly different! Countless high rise buildings that formed an expansive concrete jungle, with countless ants moving about inside of it. Why was I so excited at being in a city you ask? 

A poor country rat that lived most of his life inside of a house that I wouldn't even call a shack... that was me. 

...I still remember that damn moldy shack. 

Every time it rained i had to climb to the attic to fix whatever holes appeared, or just put a pot or something under, otherwise it would've crashed down on us. 

Every time there was a heatwave we would both feel like dying without an ac at 45 degrees in the summer. 

Every winter the mold would creep back in and worsen our health, while the stove barely kept us warm. Even with her constantly worsening health mom always tried her best to take care of me by letting me have the better blankets and trying to make me sleep in the warmer living room. Obviously, I was stubborn as a mule, so she never convinced me. 

Recalling everything to this point, faint tears formed in my eyes. Rubbing my eyes with my sleeves I went back to trying to drive. 

Since young, I had dreamed of going to a big city like this and making it big. Really big. So big I could help Mom get better, and then never have to worry about food again. So big I could move into a decent house and afford to love someone, maybe even have kids! So big that I would never ever bother looking at a price tag again and just outright buy it! 

Yet fate had shattered my delusions of grandeur in my previous life. Then it thoroughly trampled them and set them on fire, finally scattering the ashes in a junkyard.

Getting up to here, there was a faint spark in my eyes.

"I... I WANT TO BE SOMEONE IN THIS LIFE! I WILL MAKE IT!!!"

"SHUT UP AND DRIVE!" came the complaint from behind me.

With embarrassment, I quietly whispered as I drove onwards, "I will make it this time. Definitely!"