The shouting was deafening, like a marketplace in absolute chaos. No single voice could be distinguished, only the wild excitement and noisy thrill of a crowd.
This was a prison.
Along a long corridor lined with metal-barred cells, inmates were pressed against the doors, reaching out and yelling like they'd just found their new favorite show. A fresh arrival had clearly sparked their interest.
But not everyone was part of the commotion. At the very end of the corridor, one solitary cell remained quiet.
Inside lay a newcomer, who had arrived less than half an hour ago.
"Seriously? I get that the first time might be quick, but this fast? Couldn't I at least feel something? Having a second round before the first even settles—that's just rude," Jack Kadere muttered, staring up at the stained ceiling of his cell.
No, he wasn't talking about some rite of passage or prison horror story.
He was talking about transmigration.
In fiction, people are always jumping into other worlds. But in real life? Jack never thought it would happen to him. Yet here he was, having somehow landed in the Marvel Universe—a place he knew only from comics and movies.
And luck didn't stop there. He had been granted the powers of Protégé, a ridiculously overpowered cosmic entity.
Who is Protégé?
In the Marvel Universe, he's an overpowered cosmic anomaly disguised in the form of a child. Though he looks harmless—some even joked he resembled a genderless apprentice—his powers are anything but innocent.
He possesses an absurd ability: infinite replication, infinite stacking.
As long as someone uses a power against him—whether it's physical strength, mystical energy, conceptual attacks, or even divine authority—he can copy it. Instantly. And not just mimic it like Taskmaster mimics movements—Protégé copies the actual power and the experience of using it.
That alone would make him a match for almost anyone.
But here's where it breaks the system: he can stack what he copies.
Once. Ten times. A hundred. There's no cap. The more you fight him, the more unstoppable he becomes. Every attack against him is like giving him ammunition—except the bullets multiply endlessly.
Protégé became infamous in the comics for imitating cosmic entities like the Living Tribunal, and even dared to mimic powers associated with The One Above All. He was getting too strong—rewriting the hierarchy of power itself.
Eventually, a character named The Judge appeared out of nowhere—clearly a narrative device—and sealed Protégé inside the Living Tribunal's body.
A textbook plot kill.
And now Jack Kadere had inherited that power.
He was ready to conquer the Marvel Universe. Or so he thought.
Instead, he was plot-killed too.
Barely three minutes into his arrival in the Marvel Universe—before he could even observe a single power to copy—the entire reality imploded. Like some kind of cosmic CTRL+Z, the world blinked out of existence.
Jack thought that was it. But no.
He transmigrated again.
This time, into a prison cell.
Hence the earlier complaint. A second transmigration, not even five minutes after the first, and still no time to enjoy the perks of his powers? It felt like the multiverse was trolling him.
For the past thirty minutes, Jack had done nothing but lie on the bed and wait, half-expecting the world to explode again.
But nothing happened.
"The first time is a blur, the second time you get the hang of it. First it's over too fast, then it starts to last longer. That's character development, right?" Jack muttered dryly, sitting up at last and deciding to assess his surroundings.
Fortunately, the two transmigrations had been physical, not just spiritual. Which meant he still had Protégé's powers—his golden ticket. So being stuck in a prison cell didn't worry him much. A new universe, new opportunities.
And now that he was focused, he noticed something.
The noisy corridor had gone silent.
Just a few moments ago, the entire block was roaring like a sports arena. Now, all he heard were approaching footsteps.
Just as he got up to peek through the bars, two guards appeared—clearly from a Western correctional facility—and they weren't alone. Between them was a woman in handcuffs.
"Wait—someone's already in here?" one guard frowned.
"Huh, looks like some Indian guy. They tossed him in here without even changing his clothes. Must've pissed off someone high up. Not our business," the other replied.
"Still, isn't it risky?"
"Did you see what she just did? I'm not crossing her," the first one muttered.
With that, they unlocked the cell, shoved the woman inside, and locked it again without another word. Then they left.
A man and a woman… in one cell?
Jack blinked.
"Okay, this feels like a setup. Is this some kind of tutorial reward?" he muttered, then turned his gaze to the woman who now shared his cell.
She had long, slightly curled brown hair and flawless features. Even in the shapeless prison jumpsuit, her figure was stunning—lean, athletic, and confident. Her expression was icy, unreadable, but her presence was magnetic.
Most importantly, Jack recognized her instantly.
This wasn't just a random cellmate.
"Oh, come on… I get a named character? This really is a beginner's bonus," Jack said, eyes lighting up. "Everyone else starts with a dog. I start with a wildcat."