Marvel & Multiverse with GACHA SYSTEM

"That's it. That's all I know. Now let me go."

Of course, I ignored his pleading.

Since he was no longer useful, it was time to get rid of him.

Seeing me approach, he tried to back away, but there was no use the wall was right behind him.

He scrambled to stand, but I was already there.

"No, no, please, I beg you!"

Ignoring his tears, I grabbed his neck.

"You didn't let others leave, so why should I?"

"Nooooo!"

I compressed him and slipped the marble into my pocket.

My eyes drifted down to the blood on the floor.

"Guess compressing someone's body parts isn't as clean as it looks in the anime," I muttered.

Grabbing a rag and some cleaner, I crouched down and started scrubbing.

When the floor was clean, I tossed the rag into the trash and took a moment to step back. The room looked spotless, as if nothing had happened.

I walked to the kitchen, grabbed a bottle of water, and took a long drink, trying to piece everything together.

The two guys weren't special, which I'd already suspected.

They didn't know much only that someone wanted me.

They got their orders from their boss. Simple, grab me, take me.

They'd been doing this for years. This time wasn't any different.

Just business to them. Another delivery, another payout.

I leaned against the counter, tapping the water bottle against my leg, my mind racing.

"The guys at the bottom never know anything," I muttered.

But that leads to questions like who and what does someone wants from me?

Maybe for human experiments, or perhaps someone just wants a new pet.

The latter seems more likely since no one would need to take me to the Star Bar for experiments.

Yes, that's the place they were supposed to take me. Just tell the guard, and they would handle the rest.

In fact, most of their deliveries are to the Star Bar.

Someone must have decided I'm suitable enough to be their new source of enjoyment someone who wanted to assault me.

It almost seems normal.

People in power often decide the fate of the public.

Even in my old world, it wasn't unusual. Lives stolen, futures decided by the twisted desires of others. People reduced to possessions just bodies to be used and thrown away.

In the end, all that remained was a hollow shell stripped of dignity, identity, and hope. For those who weren't discarded, survival meant becoming something worse than dead a puppet, forced to obey until they were no longer useful.

People think they've seen the worst, but they don't have a clue.

Humans can sink to depths far beyond what anyone can imagine.

Controlling my anger, I shifted my thoughts.

So, what do I do now?

I can't complain, and asking for help isn't an option.

I can't push back or start digging for answers, not yet.

Why?

Because drawing attention to myself is the last thing I need right now.

Whoever is behind this could be someone powerful.

And I can't take that risk. Not now, at least.

So that leaves me with one option, leave this place.

Not forever, just for a while. After all, New York is the most attractive place for events, especially Marvel events.

Getting worked up wouldn't help. I had to stay calm, think things through, and make my next move carefully.

If I don't plan every step, I might not even realize when it's my last.

Just ten more days until I can roll the gacha again. With worm mode, there's a chance I'll get a parahuman template. After that, I won't be stuck in a passive state anymore. It's a small hope, but it's something to focus on hopefully, it'll help me take charge.

I began gathering what I needed important documents, photos, and anything that mattered. Thanks to the compressor, packing everything would be quick and easy. No need to worry about the weight or bulk.

"""""""""""""

A building

The man was busy on his phone, his brows furrowed in frustration.

"They haven't reached yet?" he asked, irritation creeping into his voice

"Yeah, I'll contact them immediately."

"Sorry for the delay," the man responded, hanging up. Frustration was evident on his face as he quickly dialed a new number.

Tch.

He tried another number. No answer. Both their phones were switched off.

"What the hell are they doing?" he muttered under his breath.

He quickly moved inside, passing by others as he walked through the building. The air was thick with the smell of guns, beer, and drugs.

As he passed through the rooms, he made his way to the last one.

Knock, knock.

"Enter," came the voice from inside.

He stepped in and saw his bald boss, busy on the phone. The boss gestured for him to speak.

"Delivery's late," he said, already anticipating the reaction.

The boss paused, then spoke into the phone. "I'll call you back." He hung up.

"Where?" the boss asked, already irritated.

"Star Bar," came the answer.

The mention of the name made the boss's eyes widen in surprise.

"Aren't Brock and Tony gone?" he asked.

"Yes, they left, but both their phones are switched off, and they haven't reached the bar yet."

Hearing this, the boss closed his eyes and tapped his fingers on the table.

"Didn't you check the target's background?" he asked, his voice tinged with frustration.

"I did. Just became an orphan. No relatives. No one to care," the man replied.

The boss slammed his hand on the table in anger.

"Then why the hell didn't they complete the delivery?"

The man stayed silent, well aware that his boss's anger was directed at the situation, not at him personally.

The boss knew his men didn't make mistakes; they'd been handling things like this for years.

Taking a deep breath, the boss said, "Send someone to figure out what's going on."

The man hesitated, then asked, "What about Star Bar?"

"I'll talk to Ms. Collins. It was her order, anyway. I'll tell her the boy's already out of state."

The man nodded, preparing to leave.

The boss stopped him. "How many men are here right now?"

"Everyone," the man replied. "Today, we only had two orders come in."

"Good. Tell them to stay alert, just in case."

The man nodded in understanding.