When Levi woke up, his mind was still in a daze.
He clearly remembered being in the company conference room, staying up late to grind through a proposal with his boss and the client. It had to be past midnight by then. His eyelids were so heavy they were practically glued shut, his head crammed full of data and charts, while his boss's saliva-flying monologue droned on in his ears. At the time, he'd had only one thought:
This job is worse than dying.
Then he closed his eyes—and when he opened them again, the world had changed.
A choking stench of gunpowder mixed with the earthy smell of mud and an indescribable metallic tang assaulted his nose. His ears rang nonstop, like hundreds of tractors roaring to life at once, punctuated by thunderous booms. Each explosion made the ground beneath him tremble.
Where the hell is this?
Is the company renovating—demolition by explosives?
He struggled to open his eyes. Instead of the familiar ceiling and lights, he saw a gray, overcast sky. Several black dots drifted across it, trailing long plumes of smoke as they flew overhead.
He shifted his body and realized he was lying prone in a shallow crater, soaked in cold, sticky mud. Looking down, he found that he was no longer wearing the plaid shirt that had accompanied him through years of office warfare, but a thick, bulky khaki military uniform—something he'd only ever seen in old movies.
All around him, people lay sprawled or crouched in similar uniforms. Their faces were smeared with grime like camouflage paint, blond-haired and blue-eyed foreigners. Each of them clutched a long metal weapon. Some were shouting themselves hoarse; others lay motionless on the ground.
Levi's mind went buzz—and completely crashed.
He was just an utterly ordinary office worker, living a monotonous commute between his rented apartment and the company. His biggest dream was winning five million on the lottery and retiring early. What he was seeing now was far beyond anything he could comprehend.
Before he could recover, a deafening boom erupted nearby. A pillar of fire shot into the sky, and the shockwave hurled a rain of dirt straight at him, smashing him until stars danced in his vision.
Only then did it truly hit him.
This wasn't a dream.
This wasn't a movie set.
This was a real battlefield—and those thunderous sounds were artillery shells exploding.
"Did I… did I transmigrate?" Levi's lips trembled, his heart sinking into ice.
A modern corporate slave who'd barely ever been in a fight, completely powerless—dumping him in a place like this was no different from a death sentence.
Fear wrapped around his heart like an icy hand. He wanted to get up and run, but his legs were as soft as noodles and refused to obey. All he could do was cling desperately to the tiny shell crater, listening to bullets whistle past his ears, feeling like death could claim him at any second.
"It's over… it's really over," despair filled his thoughts. "I just got here and I'm already going to die. I might be the shortest-lived transmigrator in history."
Just as he was drowning in hopelessness, a cold, emotionless mechanical voice suddenly echoed inside his head.
[Ding! Host life signs and mental fluctuations meet activation requirements.
Superpower Copier System officially activated.]
[This system is dedicated to providing the host with the strongest possible support.
Once per week, the host may select any intelligent lifeform and permanently copy one of their abilities.]
[Physical contact with the target is required for copying.]
[After a successful copy, the system will enter a seven-day (168-hour) cooldown period.]
[As this is the host's first copy, a target within the host's line of sight may be selected.]
Levi jolted in shock—then ecstasy flooded over him.
A system!
A cheat ability!
The standard perk of transmigrators!
That tiny spark of hope inside him was instantly doused with gasoline and burst into roaring flames. There was hope! Heaven hadn't abandoned him!
One superpower per week? Permanent?
That sounded insanely strong! Given enough time, not only could he survive this battlefield—he could do whatever the hell he wanted in the future.
The problem was, time was exactly what he lacked.
He cautiously peeked out. Outside was a storm of bullets and shells, artillery raining down like it was free. Forget finding someone to copy a power from—he'd be lucky to move an inch without getting blown apart. And where was he supposed to find someone with superpowers anyway? This was a World War II battlefield, not a superhero movie.
Was his first ability going to be something like "sharpshooter" or "martial arts master"? Useful, sure—but hardly enough to guarantee survival.
As his thoughts spiraled, another violent explosion went off nearby. This time, luck wasn't on his side. A chunk of red-hot shrapnel, like a burning knife, slammed straight into his lower abdomen.
Agonizing pain tore through his body. Levi screamed, curling up like a cooked shrimp. He could clearly feel his strength and warmth draining away, carried off by the blood pouring from the wound.
His vision blurred. The roar of artillery faded into the distance.
"N-no way…" With his last bit of strength, he looked down. The gruesome wound and the nonstop bleeding instantly extinguished the hope that had just flared to life.
The cheat ability had barely arrived—and he was already about to bleed to death?
What was this, a trial version?
As his consciousness began to slip, the corner of his eye caught sight of a burly man lying next to him.
The guy wore the same uniform, with a thick beard and a nearly extinguished cigar clenched between his teeth. He looked even worse off than Levi. In the explosion just now, Levi had clearly seen a bullet punch into the man's chest, leaving a bloody hole in his clothes.
Yet the man acted like nothing had happened. He merely cursed under his breath, spat out a mouthful of blood, and continued glaring fiercely toward the front lines.
Levi's mind was struck by lightning.
Shot in the chest… and totally fine?
That wasn't normal.
That was absolutely not normal!
Could it be… this guy had a superpower?
There was no time to think. This was his last chance. Summoning every ounce of strength he had left, Levi screamed inside his mind.
"System! System! Him! Copy his ability!"
His consciousness flickered like a candle in the wind.
[Ding! Target locked. Scanning target abilities…]
The system's voice sounded like heavenly music to Levi.
[Copyable ability detected: Healing Factor.]
[Confirm copy?]
"Copy it! Now!" Levi roared inwardly.
[Copy successful. Congratulations, host.
Permanent ability acquired: Healing Factor.]
[System entering cooldown.
Remaining cooldown time: 167 hours, 59 minutes, 59 seconds.]
As the system notification ended, an indescribable warm current surged from his heart, instantly spreading through his limbs.
Then, from the wound in his abdomen, came an intense, maddening itch—like countless ants crawling and burrowing into his flesh.
He couldn't help but look down—and what he saw was something he would never forget.
The bone-deep wound was writhing and growing back at a visible speed. Ruptured blood vessels reconnected, torn muscles knitted together, and even the split skin rapidly sprouted fresh tissue before sealing into a scab.
In barely over a minute, the once-fatal injury was reduced to nothing more than a scar smeared with dried blood. Aside from the torn uniform and stains, no one could tell he'd just been knocking on death's door.
Levi blankly touched his stomach, feeling the firm, intact skin beneath his fingers. His entire mind went empty.
He had survived.
He really had survived!
The overwhelming joy of cheating death made his whole body tremble. A healing factor! So this was the ability he'd copied! On a battlefield, this was practically a god-tier skill!
Before he could fully process his elation, a sharp whistle pierced the entire position. The soldiers around him sprang up as if injected with adrenaline, guns in hand, leaping out of the trenches while shouting incoherently.
The charge had begun.
Levi was still dazed when the bearded brute beside him also jumped up. The man flicked the dead cigar to the ground and irritably rolled his neck, producing a series of loud crack crack sounds.
Then Levi heard a strange noise.
Shhk!
It was crisp—like metal sliding against metal.
Instinctively, he turned toward the sound. The burly man raised his right hand, and three long, gleaming bone claws suddenly shot out from between his knuckles.
Levi's eyes bulged wide, his mouth hanging open.
He stared at those razor-sharp bone claws, then subconsciously thought about the "healing factor" he had just copied.
A name—one he knew all too well—burst forth from the depths of his mind.
Logan. Wolverine.
Levi stood there dumbfounded, watching that howling figure charge straight toward the German lines, his head filled with a single thought:
Holy shit… what the hell did I just copy?