Morning arrived. Luke walked out of his room, yawning widely.
To ensure he didn't miss a single tick of his precious energy generation, he had spent the entire night setting alarms to wake himself up at perfectly timed intervals just to buy more Shadow Ninjas. It reminded him of his college days, pulling all-nighters at the internet cafe and still showing up to morning lectures full of energy.
"I'm getting old," he muttered, rubbing his lower back as he shuffled down the hallway like a senior citizen on a morning stroll.
As he walked, he mentally reviewed his discoveries about the System from the previous night. Skipping the tedious trial-and-error process, the results were incredibly straightforward.
He had learned that the size of his personal Dark Dimension was directly proportional to the number of Dark Energy Crystals he possessed. For example, if he had ten crystals, his dark space expanded to roughly ten cubic meters. The dark energy he could actively manipulate and cast spells with was drawn entirely from the ambient energy stored within those ten cubic meters.
This ambient energy passively leaked out whenever a ninja mined a crystal. Therefore, his energy regeneration rate was directly tied to his ninja count.
In System terms, every individual Shadow Ninja provided him with a regeneration rate of 0.1 energy points per second. This was drastically faster than the actual crystal mining rate of one per minute.
After a grueling night of micro-managing his alarms, Luke had successfully amassed an army of 31 Shadow Ninjas. If he had a typical RPG status screen, it would look something like this:
[Luke]
Shadow Ninjas: 31
Crystal Mining Rate: 3.1 / minute
Energy Regeneration: 3.1 / second
Current Crystals: 9
Still yawning, he dragged himself to the Kamar-Taj dining hall, grabbed two steamed buns, and downed a bowl of plain congee.
"Not even a side of pickles?" he grumbled, walking out of the dining hall looking thoroughly unsatisfied.
"Are you displeased with our food?"
A figure in yellow robes suddenly appeared right in front of him. It was the Ancient One.
"It's fine. As far as breakfast goes, it passes," Luke replied honestly. "But it would be a lot better if you guys had some sour long beans or something."
The Ancient One nodded seriously. "I will have someone purchase some from the Hong Kong Sanctum."
Luke, who was mid-yawn, nearly dislocated his jaw. "What is up with you today?" Her tone hadn't changed, but there was an undeniable, subtle shift in her entire aura.
"Did Mephisto possess you or something?" Luke took two cautious steps back. Instantly, nearly thirty Shadow Ninjas materialized from the surrounding shadows, dropping into defensive stances and drawing the alarmed gazes of several passing sorcerers.
The Ancient One merely smiled and shook her head. A glowing mandala flashed briefly in her hand, and every single ninja was instantly banished back into the shadow realm.
"I spent the night purging the last remnants of Dormammu's power from my body. I no longer have to constantly suppress the corruptive side effects of his magic. I can finally relax my mind a little."
She rested a hand on her hip, a faint swirl of pure dark energy dancing over her fingertips. "Furthermore, the energy you are supplying me is more than enough to sustain my daily needs."
Luke checked his internal reserves and realized his energy pool was actually full.
With 31 ninjas, he was regenerating 3.1 energy points per second. He tested it by shadow-stepping a short distance forward. The energy he spent was almost instantly replenished. Doing the math, he realized the Ancient One was siphoning roughly 3.0 points per second just to stay alive.
'That's 10,800 points an hour! In a single day...'
Luke sucked in a cold breath. 'This woman is terrifying!'
If it cost her that much energy just to aggressively exist, he couldn't even fathom the astronomical cost of her actually fighting someone. He conservatively estimated he would need at least a thousand Shadow Ninjas before she could even cast a combat spell without draining him dry.
Just thinking about that insane grind made his liver ache.
"I actually came to inform you of something else," the Ancient One said, cutting off his thoughts. "You are free to leave."
Luke blinked. 'Huh? Just like that? I thought I was under observation for a few days?'
"I originally detained you to confirm you posed no threat to this world," she explained. "While I was purging Dormammu's influence last night, I reviewed the timeline. You have not done anything malicious or catastrophic, so there is no reason to keep you here."
She fixed him with a calm look. "However, you are an anomaly from another reality, and you are clearly aware of our timeline. I will eventually need to guide Stephen Strange to succeed me as Sorcerer Supreme, and your presence here could disrupt his development. I suggest you find somewhere else to settle down."
'Wow. Talk about burning the bridge after crossing the river.'
Still, he genuinely hadn't expected her to stick to her retirement plan now that she had a stable, harmless source of life-extending energy. He just hoped her version of "retirement" didn't involve dramatically throwing a fight to Kaecilius like she did in the movies.
Before he could ask, the Ancient One simply vanished, and Luke found himself abruptly teleported to the Sanctum gateway room in Kamar-Taj.
There were three massive, intricately carved wooden doors in the room. They led directly to the three Sanctum Sanctorums stationed in Hong Kong, London, and New York. It was essentially Kamar-Taj's version of the Bifrost, allowing immediate deployment across the globe—though, much like the police in every action movie, the sorcerers always seemed to arrive exactly five minutes after the disaster had ended.
Since he was completely new to this world and couldn't read the mystical symbols above the doors, he decided to leave his destination to fate.
'Whichever door I pick is where I live. This is the choice of Steins;Gate!'
He picked the middle door simply because it looked the nicest, pushed it open, and stepped across the threshold, instantly traveling to the other side of the planet.
Emerging from the portal room, Luke found himself in a grand, antique-filled hall lined with display cases housing various mystical relics. Judging by the chaotic energy of the city faintly echoing through the walls, he had arrived at the New York Sanctum.
Looking around, he quickly spotted the legendary Cloak of Levitation locked inside a glass case. He stepped up to it, hoping for some sort of magical reaction, but the red cloak remained completely limp and lifeless.
He tapped on the glass. "Hello? Anyone home?"
"It does not favor you. Therefore, it will not grant you its blessing."
Luke jumped and spun around to see Master Daniel Drumm standing behind him, watching him with extreme caution, as if Luke were a ticking time bomb.
Caught acting like a total tourist, Luke awkwardly wiped the smudge he had left on the glass and pretended nothing had happened.
Daniel ignored his embarrassment and gestured to the surrounding artifacts. "Relics choose their masters. Only those deemed worthy can command them."
He stepped up beside Luke and glanced at the Cloak of Levitation. Seemingly acknowledging the Sanctum master, the cloak weakly fluttered to life. One of its corners lifted and wiped the exact spot on the glass that Luke had just frantically cleaned.
The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
'Oh, come on! It's mocking me!' Luke glared at the sassy piece of fabric.
Daniel chuckled softly, pleased by the relic's display of respect. "I suppose I should clean it properly next time."
Luke shook his head. "Looks like we aren't meant to be. Whatever, I'm going out for a walk."
He pushed open the heavy front doors and stepped outside, glancing at the brass plaque on the brick wall: 177A Bleecker Street, Greenwich Village, Manhattan.
'Better memorize this so I don't get lost later,' he thought, joining the flow of pedestrians on the sidewalk.
The sheer volume of noise instantly washed over him. Coming straight from the serene silence of Kamar-Taj, walking into the heart of New York felt like stepping out of the Stone Age.
Shaking off the mild sensory overload, Luke began wandering the streets of the Big Apple. The city was booming and undeniably prosperous. The sidewalks were packed, mostly with people speed-walking while aggressively talking on their phones. They all looked like incredibly successful, stressed-out corporate wage slaves.
But as he walked, a nagging feeling of disappointment crept in. 'Where are the alien invasions? Where are the supervillains tearing up the streets? Is this really the Marvel Universe?'
He wandered for hours without seeing a single explosion, laser beam, or guy in spandex. It was honestly a huge letdown. Based on the movies, he had half-expected New York to be a 24/7 warzone of superhero battles.
Eventually, the scenery began to shift. The towering glass skyscrapers gave way to run-down brick tenements. The frantic businessmen were replaced by rough-looking men with extensive tattoos, casually twirling knives on street corners.
Luke spotted a heavily graffitied brick wall that read: Welcome to Hell's Kitchen!
'So this is the most dangerous neighborhood in New York?' He looked around curiously.
Despite the intimidating atmosphere, none of the gang members paid him any attention. Nobody tried to mug him, and no one pulled a gun. It was completely anticlimactic.
'I thought Hell's Kitchen was supposed to be a nightmare! Don't they say a dozen bodies get hauled out of here every night?' He shook his head in disappointment. 'Is this it?'
CRACK-CRACK-CRACK!
A sudden burst of automatic gunfire shattered the quiet afternoon. The previously silent street instantly erupted into chaos. A swarm of armed men poured out from a nearby alley, screaming profanities as they sprinted toward the source of the noise.
'Now we're talking!' Luke's eyes lit up.
He ducked into a secluded alleyway and immediately summoned six Shadow Ninjas. They locked their arms together, forming a human palanquin. Luke hopped on, and the ninjas effortlessly scaled the sheer brick wall, carrying him up to the rooftops like a squad of bootleg Spider-Men.
'I really need to figure out how to equip these guys with web-shooters,' he mused, enjoying the VIP elevator ride. But for now, getting a front-row seat to the action was the priority.
Reaching the roof, he crawled over to the ledge and peeked down at the chaotic street below.
It looked like a standard turf war between two rival gangs. There was absolutely no tactical finesse—just two groups of heavily tattooed men hiding behind parked cars and screaming while blind-firing at each other.
Still, it was way better than most modern action movies. It started with simple handguns, escalating quickly to assault rifles and pump-action shotguns.
And then, things got serious. One of the gangers hauled out a massive rocket launcher.
Through the chaos, Luke managed to read the bold white letters stamped on the side of the weapon crate: STARK INDUSTRIES.
'Oh, this is going to be good.' If Tony Stark built it, it was definitely going to pack a punch. He wondered how a street-level gang managed to get their hands on military-grade Stark tech.
The ganger aimed the launcher at a cluster of rival thugs behind a reinforced van and pulled the trigger.
Instead of a massive, fiery explosion, the rocket hissed forward on a trail of white smoke. The moment it hit the van, it detonated with a sharp crump, violently spraying hundreds of high-velocity steel ball bearings in a massive radius.
Luke watched in morbid fascination as a half-dozen men were instantly shredded by the shrapnel, their bodies dropping to the asphalt in a spray of red.
'Damn. Stark really doesn't mess around.' The weapon was terrifyingly quiet; in a night ambush, the enemy would be dead before they even heard the blast.
Having sufficiently marveled at Marvel's black-market technology, Luke decided the show was over. The turf war was effectively decided, and he really didn't want to get caught in the crossfire.
He pushed himself up from the ledge and turned to leave—just as the heavy metal door to the rooftop stairwell was kicked open.
A hulking, grim-faced man carrying a massive anti-materiel sniper rifle strode onto the roof.
Luke stared at the iconic white skull painted on the man's tactical vest. "The Punisher?!" he blurted out in shock.
Frank Castle had spent the last two days carefully dismantling a major criminal syndicate. However, the gang's leadership was incredibly paranoid, with the boss refusing to leave his fortified safehouse. To draw him out, Frank had manipulated a rival gang into attacking their turf.
He had spotted the boss arriving at the scene and immediately headed up to his pre-planned sniper nest to take out the trash.
What he hadn't expected was to find someone already waiting for him on the roof—someone who instantly recognized him.
'Ambush.'
That was Frank's only thought. He assumed one of the gangs had somehow predicted his move and sent a hitman. It definitely wasn't revenge; whenever Frank went after a gang, he killed every single member. There was no one left to seek revenge.
Without a single word, Frank dropped the heavy sniper rifle, smoothly drew a suppressed M16 assault rifle from his back, and opened fire.
Pfft-pfft-pfft!
Despite the sudden, lethal assault, Luke wasn't exactly a normal civilian anymore. He had the reflexes of someone sustained by pure dark energy.
Before the bullets could even reach him, half a dozen Shadow Ninjas materialized from his shadow. Moving with blinding speed, they drew their katanas and effortlessly deflected the incoming rounds, sparks flying as the bullets ricocheted off the steel blades. The ninjas didn't counterattack; they simply formed an impenetrable wall of steel in front of Luke.
Frank immediately dove behind a heavy air conditioning unit. "Ninjas? Are you with the Hand?" he barked from cover.
Luke looked at his Shadow Ninjas, realizing how easily they could be mistaken for the Hand's assassins. After all, they both dressed in pitch-black ninja garb and fought with swords.
Knowing that trying to reason with the Punisher was completely pointless, Luke simply shouted, "Nope!" and instantly melted into the shadows, making a tactical retreat.
He had no intention of sticking around to fight Frank Castle. He wasn't a starry-eyed fanboy who worshipped every Marvel character he saw, and he definitely didn't want to get caught up in one of the Punisher's bloody crusades.
"What terrible luck," Luke muttered as he popped out of a shadow several blocks away. Still, he had to admit, New York really was the center of the universe. He officially retracted his earlier complaints about the city being boring.
Deciding he had seen enough of Hell's Kitchen for one day, he merged into the bustling crowd and headed back toward the safety of the main city.