Seven days later, 4:00 PM.
A law firm.
“Mr.
Grintel, these are the final settlement documents.”
A middle-aged lawyer wearing gold-rimmed glasses pushed a stack of files across the table, his tone professional.
“The ‘Shane’s Tires’ chain and its associated inventory sold for 520,000 dollars.
The Queens apartment sold for 380,000 dollars.
After deducting taxes, debts, liquidated damages, and our firm’s commission, the net amount is 754,000 dollars.
The funds have been transferred to your designated account.”
Shane flipped through the documents quickly.
Once he confirmed everything was correct, he signed his name on the final page.
The pen nib scratched across the paper.
Selling the family legacy didn’t feel good; it felt like personally severing the last warm connection he had to this world.
But the extra 754,000 dollars in his account was the first cornerstone he needed to survive in the Marvel world.
“Furthermore.”
The lawyer pulled another document from his briefcase.
“These are all the licenses and tax IDs for ‘Lark Unmanned Equipment Co.,’ which you commissioned us to register.
The company address is registered on the second floor of Building C7 in the Brooklyn Industrial Zone, as you requested.”
Shane took the documents.
A few thin sheets of paper, yet they were the birth certificate of a company.
“Thank you, Mr.
Rosen.
I’ll settle the remaining balance today.”
As he left the law firm, a cold rain began to fall over New York.
Shane didn’t use an umbrella, letting the droplets hit his face.
The icy sensation made his mind even sharper.
750,000.
It sounded like a lot, but in 2007 New York—especially in the field he intended to enter—that money wouldn’t last long.
He hailed a taxi and gave the address for the Brooklyn Industrial Zone.
The car navigated through the curtain of rain.
Outside the window, New York transitioned from bustling commercial districts into gray factories and warehouses.
Building C7 was an old industrial structure with mottled red brick walls.
Shane went up to the second floor and opened the rusted iron door with his new key.
Behind the door was a vacant space of about two hundred square meters with concrete floors, exposed pipes, and high windows that let in the dim twilight.
The air smelled of dust and rust.
This would be his future “headquarters.”
Shane walked to the center of the room and looked around.
Soon, this place would be filled with equipment.
There would be the hum of machinery and the sight of him working through the night.
But for now, it was just an empty factory floor.
“Starting from scratch,” he whispered, his voice echoing in the emptiness.
Over the next three days, Shane was incredibly busy.
He contacted equipment suppliers, compared quotes, and ordered basic machinery like CNC lathes, 3D printers, and laser cutters.
He purchased workbenches, tools, and computers.
He handled power upgrades and internet access…
every penny had to be carefully calculated.
By the evening of the fourth day, the equipment was installed and calibrated.
After the workers left, Shane was the only one left in the factory, surrounded by silent machines gleaming with a cold metallic light.
He sat in the only chair and opened his laptop.
The blue light from the screen illuminated his tired but exceptionally clear face.
He had decided on his business direction the first day he arrived: drones.
Not the kind of war machines Iron Man used to fly around, but a more practical field with better commercial prospects—agricultural plant protection drones.
Before his transmigration, he had been the Chief Systems Integration Engineer for an agricultural drone company.
The company’s flagship product, the “Lark IV,” was etched into his brain in every detail—from design blueprints to flight control code, from structural optimization to supply chain management.
A maximum payload of 50 kilograms, a forty-minute battery life, capable of precision seeding, variable fertilization, and autonomous route planning.
This technology, which wouldn’t be considered top-tier in 2025, was straight-up “black tech” in the Marvel world of 2007.
More importantly, it was safe.
Civilian and agricultural use wouldn’t immediately draw excessive attention from SHIELD, HYDRA, or any other power.
It could make money, allowing him to accumulate his first pot of gold and gain a foothold.
“But it’s not enough.”
Shane stared at the screen, his fingers unconsciously tapping the desk.
Just having the “Lark” wasn’t enough.
In this world, he needed to become stronger faster.
He needed to master more technologies that could save his life or break a stalemate.
And his Golden Finger—that dormant ability that had shown nothing but “pseudo-eidetic memory”—how was he supposed to activate it?
The moment the thought arose, something changed.
An intense sensation of hunger swept through his entire body without warning, like an invisible hand clutching his stomach.
His vision went dark, and cold sweat instantly soaked his back.
Simultaneously, his brain became abnormally clear and active.
Countless fragmented pieces of knowledge, technical principles, and formulaic models surged, collided, and restructured…
“This is…”
Shane barely managed to steady himself against the workbench to keep from collapsing.
He gritted his teeth, resisting the hunger that threatened to consume his sanity, and tried to “look” deep into his mind.
There, a blurred light was condensing and taking shape.
[Strong survival need and clear technical path detected…]
[Core ability “Flash of Inspiration” activating…]
[Retrieving memory anchors…
Retrieval complete.]
[Parsing target matched: “Eye in the Sky” — Hummingbird micro-reconnaissance drone.]
[Current parsing progress: 17%]
[Energy severely insufficient.
Forcing termination of parsing.
Please replenish energy immediately.]
The flow of information stopped abruptly.
The violent hunger struck again, ten times more intense than before.
Shane’s legs buckled, and he nearly fell to his knees.
He gripped the edge of the workbench tightly, his knuckles turning white.
“Energy…
food!”
He stumbled toward the pile of supplies in the corner, tore open a bag of bread, and devoured it.
Not enough!
He grabbed a tin of luncheon meat and used his fingers to scoop it into his mouth.
Still not enough!
Finally, he found a few bars of high-calorie chocolate and swallowed them whole.
Only after eating enough food for three people did the agonizing hunger finally subside.
Shane slumped onto the floor, leaning against a cold machine, gasping for air.
Sweat trickled down his forehead, but his eyes were terrifyingly bright.
He understood now.
His Golden Finger—”Flash of Inspiration”—could extract the preliminary technical frameworks and data of “black technology” from his memories (especially from movies and animation).
However, parsing and acquiring this knowledge consumed a massive amount of energy, manifesting as extreme physical hunger.
Furthermore, what was parsed was only a “preliminary framework” and “core data,” much like obtaining the “design concept” and “key component blueprints” of a complex machine.
To actually build it, he still needed the corresponding knowledge to understand, supplement, and manufacture it.
Just now, driven by his strong desire for “advanced drone technology,” the Flash of Inspiration had been activated.
It had extracted the technology for the “Hummingbird micro-reconnaissance drone” from the movie *Eye in the Sky*.
Even though it was only at 17% completion, the core data and design concepts regarding bionic flapping-wing flight, micro-motors, 4K image transmission, and signal stabilization modules were already deeply imprinted in his mind.
“The richer my knowledge reserve, the higher the parsing completion will likely be, and the faster I can complete the technology…
And energy is the key to starting and maintaining the parsing.”
Shane slowly stood up and wiped the food scraps from the corner of his mouth.
This wasn’t an invincible “sign-in” system.
It was more like a “Super R&D Accelerator” and “Technical Blueprint Extractor” that required “fuel” (knowledge + food) to run.
The conditions were harsh, but the potential was limitless.
Shane walked to his computer and created a new encrypted folder, naming it “Project Hummingbird.”
Then, he rapidly recorded the fragmented data regarding the Hummingbird drone from his mind.
With every line of formula and every parameter he wrote, his understanding of the technology grew clearer.
The implicit bonus brought by “Flash of Inspiration” allowed his superior comprehension and learning ability to take effect immediately.
Those unfamiliar bionic and micro-mechanical principles were no longer obscure.
The rain outside had stopped at some point.
Moonlight filtered through the high windows, casting a cold glow over the concrete floor.
Shane was immersed in the world of technology, losing track of time.
It wasn’t until his stomach growled again that he snapped out of his trance.
He checked the time: 3:00 AM.
He saved the document and shut down the computer.
The factory returned to darkness, save for the faint red and green glow of the machine indicator lights.
Lying on a temporary sleeping bag, Shane stared at the dark ceiling, unable to sleep.
He had 550,000 dollars in his account.
The factory had basic equipment.
His mind held the mature, mass-producible technology of the “Lark IV” and the promising blueprints for the “Hummingbird.”
And he had this Golden Finger that required “grinding” (buying food) and “hard work” (learning) to unleash its power.
The road ahead was still fraught with danger.
But at least he had the capital to start and a roadmap—vague but real—that could lead him to the top.
“First, get the Lark done and make that first pot of gold.”
“Then, learn.
Study like a madman.
Electronics, mechanics, materials, programming…
all related knowledge.”
“And then, parse more technologies.
Build things that can truly give me a standing in this world.”
He closed his eyes, visualizing the exquisitely designed micro-drone, shaped like a real hummingbird, silently weaving through a complex urban environment.
That would be his eyes, his ears, and his first protective talisman in this dangerous world.
Sleep finally took him.
In the last moment before falling into a deep slumber, Shane thought hazily:
*A villain…
maybe not necessarily.
But a third party who possesses his own power and isn’t controlled by any hero or organization?*
*That position sounds pretty good.*