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The Average Crossover Experience

Imagine dying and then waking up in the body of a thug in the Marvel universe. Sounds wild, right? Well, that's just the beginning of my story. One moment I was dying on the sidewalk, and the next, I'm in some rundown apartment, looking at two duffle bags, one filled money, the other with drugs. It's not long before I realize I'm smack in the middle of a city where almost everyone wants me dead. Every corner I turn, there's someone with a grudge, a gun, or both trying to take me out. Just when I'm starting to get the hang of dodging danger and figuring out how to survive in this new world, things get even crazier. I discover I can travel into yet another world—a game-like realm that's somehow connected to my new reality. It's like stepping into a video game where the rules are different, and the stakes are just as high.

Wickedward · アニメ·コミックス
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45 Chs

Slice of Paradise #27

Dugan walked into the warehouse and couldn't help but pause at the sight before him. The Pals and the many strange structures like the red berry plantations, stone pits, and logging sites were nowhere to be seen within the confines of the bullet-hole-ridden building.

Other than the strange terminal-like device in the middle, it seemed no different than any other abandoned warehouse, albeit one that had witnessed a small war.

He muttered under his breath, "Neat trick," before asking, "Do you part-time as a magician as well?"

Vito chuckled, leaning against a nearby crate. "It's not a bad idea. If I wasn't a wanted man, I might consider a career in stage entertainment." He sighed, his expression turning more serious. "Speaking of which, what has been done about my wanted status?"

Dugan shrugged, his eyes scanning the now-empty warehouse. "You made a pretty big mess. Even the president himself can't pardon you for starting a gang war." He trailed off, then added, "But your wanted status won't be a problem anymore."

Vito's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

Dugan explained, "Officially, you've been captured and are now confined in a maximum-security prison. Your face has been removed from any and all facial recognition programs and criminal databases." He paused, letting the information sink in. "A new identity has been created for you as well, just in case anyone recognizes you."

Vito nodded slowly, processing the news. "So, I'm officially a ghost now."

"Pretty much," Dugan confirmed. "You've got a clean slate, but that doesn't mean you can just do whatever you want. SHIELD will be keeping an eye on you."

"Of course," Vito said, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. "Wouldn't expect anything less."

Dugan shifted gears, his tone becoming more businesslike. "Anyway... the private island you asked for is ready. Quite a charming place, actually." He glanced around the warehouse. "What about your friend Carlo? Is he coming along?"

Vito shook his head, his expression softening. "Carlo's with his wife now. He decided he'd seen enough action for a lifetime. He's going to liquefy his assets and go on a permanent vacation somewhere no one will find him."

Dugan chuckled, nodding in understanding. "His loss, really. That island is a slice of paradise." He gestured toward the exit. "And speaking of which, we've got a chopper nearby, waiting and ready to take you there if you're ready to leave this place behind..."

Vito took a long look around the warehouse, taking in its chaotic interior one last time. The bullet-riddled walls, the makeshift workstations, and the remnants of creates dismantled by bullets told a story about a chapter of his life that he was all too eager to forget.

He sighed, feeling a mixture of relief and anticipation. "I'd like nothing more than to leave this shithole behind and never look back..."

Dugan smirked. "Then let's get moving."

They stepped outside into the crisp evening air. The shadows were lengthening, and the sky was painted with hues of orange and pink. Vito paused for a moment, taking it all in.

The government agents were still positioned around the perimeter, their expressions blank and professional. The sight of them was a stark reminder of the precariousness of his situation, but also of the new path that lay ahead.

A sleek black SUV was waiting near the entrance, its engine quietly humming. Dugan opened the back door, and Vito slid in, sinking into the plush leather seat. The vehicle smelled faintly of new car and something else—something clinical and antiseptic.

Dugan got in beside him, and the driver pulled away smoothly, navigating the narrow streets with practiced ease. Vito glanced out the window, watching the cityscape blur past. This was it. A new beginning, far from the chaos and danger that had defined his life for so long.

Or so he hoped, but chances are, it would only be a brief respite, and he knew it.

...

As the helicopter descended onto the island, I felt a mixture of anticipation and unease. The rhythmic thump of the rotors filled my ears, and I glanced out the window to see a lush, green expanse below.

We were far enough from New York that the mainland was nowhere in sight, just endless ocean surrounding this secluded haven.

The helicopter touched down gently, and Dugan gave me a thumbs-up as he opened the door and jumped out. I followed, squinting against the bright sunlight as I stepped onto the grass. The air here was fresh, tinged with the scent of salt and vegetation.

"Welcome to your new home," Dugan said, gesturing broadly to the island. "It's about 500 acres. Plenty of space for you and your pals."

I took a moment to absorb the sight. The island was a sprawling, verdant paradise. Tall trees ringed the perimeter, creating a natural barrier against prying eyes. In the center stood a large house—no, a mansion.

Its white walls gleamed in the sunlight, and the expansive lawn surrounding it was impeccably maintained. Near the mansion, I noticed an incomplete enclosure built around a patch of sea water, serving as a makeshift pool.

"Come on, let me show you around," Dugan said, clapping me on the back.

We walked towards the mansion, the soft crunch of gravel underfoot the only sound besides the distant waves. Dugan opened the front door and led me inside. The interior was just as impressive as the exterior—spacious rooms, high ceilings, and large windows that let in plenty of natural light.

"This place is fully furnished," Dugan explained, "and equipped with everything you might need. We've even installed a state-of-the-art filtering device that turns sea water into drinkable water."

"Fully furnished and bugged, no doubt..." I grumbled, taking it all in. The mansion had a luxurious yet functional feel to it. It was a stark contrast to the dingy warehouse I'd left behind.

It would be perfect once I use Tombat's echolocation power to root out and destroy all the bugs SHIELD's goons planted all over the place.

Dugan said nothing, merely shrugging as he led me through the various rooms—the living room with its plush sofas and entertainment system, the kitchen with top-of-the-line appliances, and several bedrooms, each more comfortable than the last. Finally, we stepped out onto the back patio, which overlooked the incomplete enclosure.

Dugan leaned against the railing, looking out at the ocean. "We chose this remote island because we didn't want some peeping Tom with a drone or a telescope spotting one of your little pals and starting a country-wide panic, thinking we were invaded by aliens or something..."

I chuckled, appreciating the irony. "Good thinking. The last thing I need right now is attention..."

He turned to face me, his expression serious. "Listen, mate. This is your chance to start over. SHIELD's done its part, but the rest is up to you. Keep making yourself useful, lay low, and you'll be set for life..."

I shook my head, a wry smile tugging at my lips. "It would be good if things were that simple, Dugan." I sighed, glancing out at the serene ocean. "I've gotten myself out of one mess, only to step into an even bigger one."

Dugan raised an eyebrow, a hint of curiosity in his eyes. "I'd ask you about that, but I know the answer won't come cheap."

I merely shrugged, not willing to delve into the complexities of my situation just yet.

Changing the subject, Dugan continued, "This private island is both secure and away from any prying eyes, but to keep it well maintained, we'll need to schedule helicopters to regularly bring supplies. And we'll need to keep a staff on the island too."

I scoffed, shaking my head. "Thanks, but no thanks. I can maintain the place myself." I gave him a pointed look. "If you must keep someone here to keep an eye on me, then you're free to stay and observe, granted you don't bother me too much."

Dugan put on an exaggerated act of thinking it over, scratching his chin theatrically. "So, I get to stay on a beautiful private island and watch some otherworldly creatures waddling about?" He chuckled, a broad grin spreading across his face. "Sounds like a vacation... I can't bloody well say no to that now, can I?"

I smirked at his response. "Might as well get yourself situated then... In the meantime, I'll get to work on turning this place into a proper home base..."

...

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