The holographic screen in front of Lu Xingye was filled with light.
Weapons.
Thousands of them.
They rotated, unfolded, disassembled, and reassembled in midair—sleek, cold, and terrifyingly beautiful. Every design carried the unmistakable mark of Stark Industries: compact efficiency, overwhelming firepower, and technology decades ahead of Earth's current level.
"Jarvis," Lu Xingye asked calmly, "what weapon data do you currently possess?"
The hologram refreshed.
[Armed Drone]
[Triple-Barrel Micro Gatling Gun]
[Laser Cutter]
[Weaponized Taser]
[Micro Reactor]
[Ark Reactor]
...
Beep. Beep. Beep.
The list continued to expand, layer after layer, until it felt endless.
Lu Xingye couldn't help smiling.
"Good. Very good."
With these blueprints alone, his future path became much clearer.
Sell low-end technologies first. Accumulate capital. Apply for legitimate licenses. Gradually enter restricted industries. And one day—step into military-grade manufacturing openly.
But ideals were meaningless without a starting point.
Right now, the most urgent problem was simple.
Money.
Lu Xingye paced back and forth in his cramped apartment for more than half an hour, the floorboards creaking softly under his steps. With J.A.R.V.I.S., earning money should have been easy—but reality proved otherwise.
Most of Stark's technologies were too advanced.
So advanced that they didn't even have a theoretical foundation in this world.
If something like that appeared suddenly, it wouldn't bring wealth—it would bring disaster.
Government attention.
Secret investigations.
Being locked in a laboratory and studied like an anomaly.
Lu Xingye wasn't arrogant enough to think he could handle that now.
"An innocent man is guilty when holding a treasure," he murmured.
At his current level, caution was survival.
And then—
A thought struck him.
Hard.
He stopped pacing.
"…Wait."
His eyes slowly lit up.
"Why am I thinking like a normal person?"
He could reach into movie worlds.
He didn't need to develop technology.
He could take it.
If he lacked money—take money.
If he lacked resources—take resources.
If he lacked talent—take tools smarter than humans.
And if he lacked… companions?
Lu Xingye's lips curved upward despite himself.
He shook his head and laughed softly.
"Focus."
Still, the thought lingered.
Breaking the barrier of the second dimension wasn't just about technology.
What about people?
What about those impossibly perfect women from films and animation—beautiful, intelligent, powerful?
Having them step into reality…
That would be something else entirely.
Lu Xingye rubbed his hands together, half-amused, half-excited.
"Pure curiosity," he told himself seriously. "Purely academic."
He dragged the movie timeline to a familiar scene.
Iron Man.
Pepper Potts appeared on the screen—confident, elegant, sharp-eyed. A woman who stood at the center of Stark Industries and never bowed to anyone.
Lu Xingye admired her.
A lot.
"Now," he said quietly.
The blue light enveloped his right hand.
Reality thinned.
His hand broke through the dimensional barrier once again.
Inside the frozen movie world, Pepper was mid-step. The air around her was locked in place. A faint, translucent force—like a giant mesh—descended from above, enclosing her.
She struggled instinctively.
But to Lu Xingye's hand, her resistance was insignificant.
"Come on," he whispered, excitement rising. "Future secretary."
He pulled.
Nothing happened.
Pepper did not cross over.
The blue light flickered—and vanished.
Lu Xingye froze.
"…Failed?"
There was no voice.
No system prompt.
No explanation.
But something deep inside him responded.
Not words—understanding.
A pressure pressed against his consciousness, like an invisible wall.
Too heavy.
Not in weight—
—but in existence.
Lu Xingye's expression changed.
"So it's not allowed yet…"
He slowly withdrew his hand, heart beating faster—not with fear, but realization.
This wasn't about desire.
It was about authority.
The world did not yet recognize him.
He was insignificant.
A nobody.
How could a nobody forcibly pull a living being from another world into reality?
His ambition cooled—but only slightly.
Instead, it sharpened.
"If that's the case…"
Lu Xingye straightened.
"Then I'll make this world acknowledge me."
He exhaled, forcing his thoughts back on track.
If living beings were impossible for now, then inanimate objects should be easier.
Money.
But even that posed a problem.
Cash had serial numbers.
Banknotes were traceable.
Any large amount would instantly become black money.
Unusable.
Lu Xingye frowned.
"Then… gold."
Gold had no identity.
Pure value.
He thought for a moment, then remembered an old movie.
National Treasure.
A legendary underground city, walls and armor made entirely of gold.
Lu Xingye's heartbeat quickened.
He opened the movie, fast-forwarded, and paused at the scene where gold filled the screen.
"This time," he said firmly, "just an object."
The blue light returned.
His hand crossed over.
He grabbed a massive golden ornament—
And stopped.
The resistance was overwhelming.
Not weight.
Again, authority.
Lu Xingye released it immediately, pulling his hand back, breath uneven.
"…So that's it."
He sat down slowly, eyes dark with thought.
The reason he could pull out J.A.R.V.I.S. earlier wasn't because it was easy.
It was because it was a starting allowance.
A crack.
A one-time opening.
Now that crack was closed.
To open it again, he needed something else.
Influence.
Recognition.
Weight—not of the body, but of existence.
Lu Xingye looked at his left hand.
The tattoo was still dull gray.
Silent.
Waiting.
"So the rule is clear now," he said softly.
"To take from another world, I must first stand tall in this one."
Companies.
Products.
Capital.
Global recognition.
Only when his name carried enough weight would reality allow him to reach deeper.
And perhaps one day—
Bring someone across.
Lu Xingye leaned back in his chair, the city lights reflecting faintly in his eyes.
"Fine," he said with a calm smile.
"Then I'll start from zero."
He looked at the hologram.
"Jarvis."
"Yes, sir."
"Help me build something this world can accept."
There was a brief pause.
Then—
"Understood. Initiating civilian-technology development plan."
In a tiny apartment near Shanghai University, a path was set.
Not to fantasy.
Not yet.
But to influence.
And once that was achieved—
The boundary between worlds would no longer matter.