Chapter 1: Awakening in Marvel Universe, Foundations of Power
[Edited]
Chapter 1: Awakening in Marvel Universe, Foundations of Power
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January 7, 1947 – New York, Chinatown
Edward Lin awoke to the acrid scent of smoke and the distant hum of neon lights. A dull pain throbbed through his body as he pushed himself up from the cold pavement. Narrow streets lined with aging brick buildings and dimly glowing signs in both English and Chinese met his gaze, illuminated by flickering streetlamps.
This looked like 1940s Chinatown. The problem was, that shouldn't be possible. His last memory was of his apartment in 21st-century Shanghai. His mind reeled. Had he been drugged? Was this an illusion?
A sudden movement caught his attention. A group of gangsters stood at the alley's entrance, their voices hushed but urgent.
"Hey! You there!"
Edward barely had time to react before they moved in. Instinct took over—he raised his hands, bracing for impact. But something strange happened. A faint glow emanated from his fingers, and a pulse of energy shot outward. The nearest thug was thrown back, hitting the pavement hard.
The remaining gangsters hesitated, muttering in alarm. Edward himself was frozen, staring at his hands. That… that was alchemy. Not just any alchemy—the structured, scientific transmutation from Fullmetal Alchemist.
A sudden wave of dizziness hit him. At the same moment, something unseen stirred in his mind, and a translucent blue screen flickered to life before his eyes.
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[Proficiency Panel Activated]
Host: Edward Lin
Age: 20/85
[Alchemy (Fullmetal Alchemist)]
Alchemy Proficiency: 8% (Level: Initial)
Transmutation: 10% (Level: Initial)
Reinforcement: 8% (Level: Initial)
Creation: 5% (Level: Initial)
Physical Condition: Normal
Strength: Normal
Status: Vagrant Traveler
Mood: Disoriented
Wealth: $100
Property: None
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Edward's breath caught. A status screen? It looked like something out of an RPG, yet it perfectly aligned with what had just happened. His alchemical skills were in their infancy, but they were real. He had power here.
He had no time to dwell on it. The gangsters, shaken but not deterred, recovered quickly. Edward turned and ran, pushing past confused pedestrians and slipping into the labyrinth of Chinatown's alleys. He needed to get off the streets, find shelter, and figure out what the hell was happening.
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After what felt like an eternity, Edward found himself in front of a dimly lit boarding house. The sign was in Chinese, advertising cheap rooms for travelers. It was exactly what he needed.
Mrs. Wong, the landlady, eyed him suspiciously at first, but his fluent Chinese and polite demeanor softened her stance. "A traveling student, are you?" she asked, eyeing his worn clothes.
"Yes," Edward lied smoothly. "From the countryside. Just arrived, looking for work."
Mrs. Wong scoffed but took his money and gave him a tiny room on the top floor. It wasn't much—just a bed, a wooden desk, and a single flickering lightbulb—but it was enough.
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The next issue was money. His modern knowledge was useless in a world where credit cards didn't exist, and he had no identification. But he had something better: alchemy.
Sitting cross-legged on the wooden floor, Edward focused on a handful of cheap metal trinkets he had found discarded in the alley. Taking a deep breath, he placed his hands on them and willed the reaction into existence. A soft glow, a shift in the material's structure, and seconds later, the worthless scraps had transformed into small pieces of gold.
It wasn't perfect—his skill was still in the Initial stage—but it was enough.
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The next day, he visited a pawnshop, careful to keep his head down. The owner, an elderly man with sharp eyes, examined the gold but didn't ask questions. It wasn't unusual for desperate people to sell family heirlooms in these times.
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[Proficiency Panel Update]
Host: Edward Lin
Age: 20/85
[Alchemy (Fullmetal Alchemist)]
Alchemy Proficiency: 10% (Level: Initial)
Transmutation: 14% (Level: Initial)
Reinforcement: 9% (Level: Initial)
Creation: 7% (Level: Initial)
Physical Condition: Normal
Strength: Normal
Status: Undocumented Traveler
Mood: Cautious
Wealth: $800
Property: Rented Room in Boarding House
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Edward walked out with enough cash to survive for weeks.
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The last thing he needed was a name. An undocumented drifter in Chinatown was a target. Through careful observation, he learned about a man named Mr. Chen, an expert forger who provided new identities for those who needed them—immigrants, refugees, and fugitives alike.
The meeting was short and quiet. Edward crafted a believable backstory: an orphan displaced by the war, looking for a fresh start. He also used the day he traveled here as his birth date. Mr. Chen took his payment and, a few days later, provided him with papers under his real name: Edward Lin.
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January 15, 1947
For now, he had everything he needed—shelter, money, and an identity. He kept a low profile, taking small handyman jobs around the neighborhood and subtly using alchemy to fix broken items. It gave him a steady trickle of income and kept him from standing out too much.
But he knew this fragile peace wouldn't last. The streets of Chinatown were controlled by ruthless gangs, and even now, Edward could feel something else lurking beneath the surface—something beyond human.
Magic, mutants, and creatures of the dark.
He had survived his first week. Now, he needed to find his place in this world before it consumed him.
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February 2, 1947 – Chinatown, New York
I pulled my coat tighter around me, bracing against the winter wind that sliced through the narrow alleyways of Chinatown. It had been nearly a month since I was thrown into this world, and in that time, I had secured the basics: shelter, money, and a name. But survival wasn't enough. Not in a place like this. If I wanted to thrive, I needed power.
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~The Grind Begins~
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Every night, I pushed my abilities further. In the dim glow of my rented room, I etched transmutation circles onto scrap metal, forcing the material to shift and change at my command. My hands ached from repeated reinforcement exercises, my body tingling with the raw energy I was channeling. I had learned to manipulate the structure of objects, to harden them beyond their natural durability, to shift their form as I willed.
Jackie Wu, my first recruit, had once stumbled upon one of my late-night experiments.
"What the hell was that?" he had asked, eyes wide as he stared at the reinforced wooden plank I had just tested by slamming a knife against it—only for the knife to snap.
I merely smiled. "A trick of the trade."
But Jackie wasn't stupid. He knew power when he saw it, and his respect for me only grew from that moment on.
My proficiency panel updated steadily:
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[Proficiency Panel Update]
Host: Edward Lin
Age: 20/85
[Alchemy (Fullmetal Alchemist)]
Alchemy Proficiency: 21% (Level: Novice)
Transmutation: 26% (Level: Novice)
Reinforcement: 21% (Level: Novice)
Creation: 15% (Level: Initial)
Physical Condition: Improved
Strength: Superhuman
Status: Start-up gangster
Mood: Focused
Wealth: $5,000 (Steady income from trades and protection services)
Property: Small rented room in Chinatown
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My body felt stronger with each day. Reinforcement training wasn't just about making objects tougher—I was doing the same to myself, hardening my muscles and reinforcing my bones. It was slow, but the results were undeniable.
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Gold transmutation was tempting, but even I knew that flooding the market with gold was a surefire way to attract unwanted attention. Instead, I took a different approach.
"You sure about this?" David Chen, my second recruit asked, rubbing his thick hands together as he watched me work on a set of knives. "I mean, it's just metal, right?"
"Not just metal," I corrected, focusing on the cheap blades I had bought in bulk. "Reinforced. Sharper, tougher, more reliable." I ran a thumb along the edge of the nearest one. It gleamed under the single lightbulb hanging above us. "These aren't just knives anymore."
The merchants I sold them to agreed. Word spread quickly, and soon, I had a steady stream of buyers willing to pay top dollar for my "enhanced" goods. From cutlery to tools, even minor repairs on broken machinery—alchemy made me indispensable.
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February 15, 1947 – Gathering Followers
Chinatown wasn't safe for lone wolves. If I wanted to survive, I needed people. The right people.
Jackie Wu was my first recruit. A seventeen-year-old pickpocket with a quick tongue and quicker hands. Then came David Chen, a former dock worker whose fists were like iron. Slowly, I built a crew of misfits, young men who had no prospects but plenty of ambition. I trained them not just in fighting but in discipline, in survival.
One night, as we gathered in my rented room, I laid out my vision.
"The gangs in Chinatown? They don't care about the people. They exploit them. They take, but never give back." I let my words settle in the dimly lit space. "We're going to be different. We protect our own. We make our own rules. And in return, the people will support us."
David cracked his knuckles. "Sounds good to me. Sick of working for scumbags anyway."
Jackie grinned. "Long as we get paid, I'm in."
And just like that, the foundation of my organization was laid.
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At first, the existing gangs ignored us. We were too small, too new. But when we started clearing out drug peddlers and chasing off loan sharks who preyed on the weak, they took notice.
One evening, as I walked down a quiet street, a group of gangsters blocked my path.
"You're making a lot of noise," their leader, a man with a scar running down his cheek, said. "That's a problem."
I tilted my head, unbothered. "Then maybe you should listen."
Scarface didn't like that. He lunged, a blade flashing under the streetlamp. I barely needed to react—my body, strengthened by reinforcement, moved instinctively. I sidestepped, grabbed his wrist, and twisted. A sickening crack echoed through the alley as he crumpled to his knees, screaming.
His men hesitated. They had expected an easy target. Instead, I got them.
"Go back to your bosses," I said, voice even. "Tell them Chinatown isn't theirs anymore."
Word spread. The name Golden Dragon Society began to take root in the streets. Business owners started recognizing us, slipping small payments our way for protection—not out of fear, but trust.
My panel updated again:
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[Proficiency Panel Update]
Host: Edward Lin
Age: 20/85
[Alchemy (Fullmetal Alchemist)]
Alchemy Proficiency: 30% (Level: Novice)
Transmutation: 38% (Level: Novice)
Reinforcement: 30% (Level: Novice)
Creation: 22% (Level: Novice)
Physical Condition: Enhanced
Strength: Superhuman
Status: Small Gang Leader
Mood: Cautious
Wealth: $280,000 (Profits from alchemical trades and protection services)
Property: Rented safe house and underground storage in Chinatown
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I knew the other gangs wouldn't tolerate me forever. But by the time they moved, it would be too late to stop me.
I was no longer just surviving. I was building an empire.
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To be continued...