Cheating My Way Through Marvel and Beyond

Jack had no idea why the system dropped him into this body, in this place, at this time.

"Seriously, what the hell is going on?"

The system, ever the helpful guide, responded with its usual bullshit.

"Figure it out yourself."

Jack rolled his eyes. "Wow, thanks. So glad I have you around."

Still, as fragmented memories surfaced in his mind, things started making some sense. The system didn't completely screw him over—his identity had some perks.

Flipping through Isaiah's memories as he walked, Jack took in the streets of Baltimore. Run-down houses, cracked sidewalks, and that distinct smell of old concrete and fast food grease. A couple of stray cats prowled around an overflowing dumpster, probably fighting for scraps.

After a few blocks, he stopped in front of a worn-down house. The paint was peeling, the fence was barely standing, and the mailbox looked like it had survived a war.

Jack hesitated for a second before pressing the doorbell.

A deep, rough voice answered. "Who is it?"

The door creaked open, revealing an old man with graying hair and a thick beard. The dude was supposed to be pushing ninety, but he barely looked sixty. Strong build, sharp eyes—like he could still throw hands if needed.

Isaiah Bradley.

The moment Isaiah saw him, his face softened. "Oh! Jack, my boy! You okay?"

Before Jack could react, the old man pulled him into a hug.

Jack stiffened for a second before patting Isaiah's back. Might as well play along.

Isaiah pulled back, eyes scanning him. "The hell's gotten into you, kid? Something happen?"

Jack shook his head quickly. "Nah, just… I was thinking about how you've always been the same since I was a kid. I'm already out of college, and you haven't aged a damn day. Makes me feel some kinda way, y'know?"

Isaiah snorted. "You know damn well why. The serum slowed my aging, made me tougher than most folks."

There was something bitter in his voice. The same serum that gave him strength also chained him to a life of suffering—thirty years of torture and experiments.

Isaiah shook his head. "Come inside. No point in talking about that crap."

Jack followed him in. According to his memories, Isaiah had been like family. After Jack's parents passed, Isaiah had raised him for a while before sending him to a foster home—trying to protect him from the ghosts of his past.

They sat down, and Isaiah gave him a once-over. "Didn't you say you were looking for a job in L.A.? Why'd you come all the way back just to see an old man like me?"

Jack grinned. "Got an internship at Stark Industries. Figured I'd drop by and let you know."

Isaiah's eyebrows shot up. "Oh shit! Stark Industries?! That's incredible, kid! I knew you had it in you! We gotta celebrate—get some good food, grab a couple of drinks!"

Just as Isaiah stood up—

BANG!

The window shattered.

Isaiah had instinctively moved—right out of the way.

Jack barely had time to process before something hot tore through his chest.

The force knocked him back. His vision blurred, and a sharp, burning pain spread from the wound.

Blood soaked his shirt.

"Oh, fuck—" Jack coughed, but his voice was weak. His body felt cold, limbs heavy. His mind screamed at him to move, to do something, but his strength was draining fast.

His last thought before the darkness swallowed him was:

"Goddamn it, this is some bullshit."

.....

Pain.

No, agony.

It felt like his blood was boiling, like his very bones were being torn apart and rebuilt at the same time.

Then came the itching.

Not the kind you could scratch, but the deep, maddening kind—like ants crawling under his skin, chewing at his muscles.

Time lost all meaning. He was trapped in an endless void of suffering, helpless to do anything but endure.

Then, finally—

Light.

Jack's eyes flew open.

The first thing he saw was Isaiah's face, eyes red-rimmed with worry.

"You're awake… Thank God. Dammit, kid, I told you coming here was a bad idea."

Jack groaned, trying to sit up. "Shit… I got shot, right?"

The room was dark—probably a basement. The air smelled of alcohol and antiseptic. A heart rate monitor beeped softly next to him, and beside it was a tray full of bloody gauze and surgical tools.

And next to it—

A bullet.

His bullet.

Isaiah sighed. "Yeah. You lost a lot of blood. I had to deal with the shooter first, then patch you up myself. There wasn't time to get you to a hospital."

Jack frowned. "Wait… shouldn't I still be in pain?"

He looked down. The bullet wound was gone.

Scabbed over, but no stitches.

And he felt… strong. Not just "I can sit up" strong, but "I could punch through a damn wall" strong.

"Uh… how long was I out?" Jack asked.

Isaiah checked his watch. "Less than three hours."

Jack's stomach dropped. "What the hell? That's not normal!"

Isaiah sighed. "I didn't have much choice. You lost too much blood, and we have the same blood type. I… had to transfuse some of mine into you."

Jack's eyes widened. "Wait. Hold up. You gave me… super soldier blood?!"

His hands twitched as he gripped the bed's metal railing—

CRACK.

The metal bent like a cheap soda can.

Jack stared at it. Then at his hands.

"...Holy shit."

Isaiah sighed, standing up. "I'll get you some water."

Jack's mind was racing. He just got shot, nearly died, and now he was a goddamn super soldier?!

There was only one explanation for this.

"System! The hell did you do?!" Jack called out in his mind.

The system's voice chimed in smugly.

"Congratulations! You've received the Newbie Gift Pack! This world is dangerous, so I gave you a little survival bonus. Surprise!"

Jack exhaled sharply, rubbing his temples.

"'Surprise' my ass! I almost fucking died!"

"Details, details. Look on the bright side! Now you have the strength to thrive in this world!"

Jack shook his head. His luck was ridiculous. One second he was dying, and now he was a goddamn super soldier.

Still, he couldn't help but grin.

"Well… guess I'm rolling with it."