The Ferrari eased out of the mansion, and Jack, sitting behind the wheel, couldn't help but steal a glance at the stunning woman beside him.
Looking back, it all felt almost too good to be true.
Jack wasn't from this world.
He had transmigrated, and the world he found himself in was nothing short of extraordinary.
The Marvel Universe.
He hadn't awakened any superpowers or gained access to advanced technology after arriving. But, fortunately, he had inexplicably gained a wife—Hela.
This Hela wasn't the ancient Asgardian goddess of death. They just happened to share the same name.
His wife was breathtaking, with delicate features and a flawless figure—a true goddess in every sense.
Her personality might be a tad reserved, but to Jack, she was the perfect wife.
"What's on your mind, Jack?" Hela asked softly from the passenger seat, noticing his gaze lingering on her.
It was rare for her to catch him staring like this, and even she felt a slight flush of embarrassment.
"Because you're my wife! And the more I look at you, the more beautiful you get," Jack said, reaching out to gently brush a strand of hair from her face.
"Focus on the road, smooth-talker," Hela replied, though a small smile tugged at her lips.
She secretly loved his words.
"It's no big deal. I'm just heading to sign the deal for Pirates of the Caribbean," Jack said, giving her hair another affectionate stroke.
Hela nodded at his words.
As a transmigrator with no special abilities, Jack had resorted to what he knew best: borrowing ideas from his old world. Fortunately, this universe didn't have A Song of Ice and Fire, Pirates of the Caribbean, or The Lord of the Rings. So, he "created" them.
These works had propelled him into the upper echelons of society, earning him a Ferrari, a mansion, and a comfortable life.
Meanwhile, Hela stole a glance at the man beside her.
Hela, the eldest daughter of Odin, the God-King of Asgard, and the rightful heir to the throne, had once led conquests that caused a rift with her father. Odin had sealed her away, and it was only recently, when the seal weakened, that she escaped.
But freedom came at a cost. Her powers were severely restricted, and her body had taken a devastating toll. She ended up on Earth, where she met Jack.
Recalling their time together, a blush crept onto Hela's cheeks. Her heart raced.
It was almost embarrassing. She, the fearsome Goddess of Death of the Nine Realms, was reduced to a lovesick woman around a human.
In the past, any man who dared act so familiar with her would have met a swift end.
But Jack was different. She didn't just tolerate his affection—she craved it.
Maybe this was love.
Hela, who had never known such a feeling, cherished every moment with him.
---
The streets were busy, but Jack handled the Ferrari with ease. In the past, he wouldn't have dared drive such a car without protection. With his modest fortune, going out without bodyguards in this world was asking for trouble.
He had hired security early on, but everything changed after meeting Hela.
Not because she could protect him—her delicate appearance suggested otherwise—but because when she became his wife, his transmigrator's "golden finger" finally activated.
The system was simple and straightforward. Every morning, he received random items.
"Doraemon's Dorayaki."
"Yasuo's Boots."
"Extra-Strength Yuxi Cigarettes."
"Annie the Bear's Pajamas."
These trivial rewards were just the beginning. As time passed, Jack received far more impressive gifts.
"Master Yi's Wuju Style."
"Pleasant Goat's Wolf Eradication Manual."
"Nobi Nobita's Bamboocopter."
"The Ultimate Guide to Charismatic Flirting."
And the big one: "DC Superman Template."
The Superman template was Jack's ultimate trump card. Bodyguards? Obsolete. Even though he had only recently acquired the template and hadn't absorbed enough solar energy to reach its full potential, few threats on Earth could challenge him now.
Iron Man was still busy being a playboy, and that purple-obsessed cosmic warlord snapping his fingers was drifting aimlessly in space.
Jack had no interest in playing hero or wearing his underwear on the outside. Was saving the world as fulfilling as a cozy life with his wife and a warm bed?
As for that purple warlord, if he ever showed up, Jack was confident he could send him crashing into the sun. With his current solar energy levels, it would take mere seconds.
Lost in thought, Jack pressed harder on the accelerator. Cars blurred past as he sped toward the film company's building.
Once they arrived, Jack and Hela stepped out of the car. Remembering their earlier conversation, Jack turned to her. "Honey, why don't you head to the coffee shop next door while I handle this?"
He knew Hela had little interest in business dealings, though she'd happily drag him shopping for hours if given the chance.
Hela nodded, but her eyes flicked upward toward the building's windows. As the Goddess of Death, her sensitivity to malice was unmatched. She sensed something dark.
After a moment's thought, she flashed Jack a smile. "Alright. Finish up quickly and meet me there."
Jack adjusted his glasses and planted a quick kiss on her cheek. "You're still so charming."
Blushing, Hela walked off. She was the Goddess of Death, feared across the Nine Realms, yet around Jack, she felt like a giddy schoolgirl.
---
For a "plagiarist" like Jack, securing movie adaptation rights was a goldmine. He took it seriously.
But upstairs, a group of men in black watched Jack enter the elevator, their eyes glinting with malice.
"He's here, the fool who doesn't know his place. Get ready," their leader barked into a walkie-talkie. "He doesn't leave this time."
Clearly, this meeting wasn't going to be as straightforward as Jack had expected.