New York City.
As the sun set, three black vans bearing “SSS” logos on their sides, closely followed by a black Audi A8, drove off Manhattan and onto the Brooklyn Bridge, speeding toward the borough of Brooklyn on the other side.
SSS!
Sentinel Secret Service!
This was a brand-new federal law enforcement agency established following the announcement of the Mutant Freedom Act in 1973.
Under the umbrella of the Mutant Freedom Act, any case involving mutants or crimes committed by mutants fell under the jurisdiction of the Sentinel Secret Service.
In short: the Sentinel Secret Service was created specifically to deal with mutants.
Federally authorized, unbound by conventional limits.
Inside the black Audi A8.
Locke sat in the back with his legs crossed, leaning his head to the side as he watched the scenery flash by outside the window.
He lost himself for a moment looking at his reflection in the glass.
Short blond hair, emerald-green eyes, sharp facial features, and a well-fitted black suit.
Handsome.
And undeniably masculine.
But…
Transmigrating into a comic book world was one thing, but why did he have to be reborn as a foreigner?
Was it to blend in with local customs?
Locke hadn’t quite understood it at first.
However, after so many years, he had accepted his reality with a sense of resignation.
The main issue was that the timing of his transmigration was rather awkward.
Today was August 30, 2011, and Locke was twenty-five years old.
Unfortunately, he was born at the wrong time.
Born in 1986, he missed out on witnessing Captain America and his Howling Commandos in World War II, nor could he share an era with the original X-Men.
After all, by the time he was born, World War II had long ended with Captain America’s disappearance and the retirement of the Howling Commandos.
Even the original X-Men had completely vanished from the public eye after the Mutant Freedom Act was enacted in 1973.
Similarly, born in 1986, he couldn’t attend the same school as little Spidey, make friends with the rich second-generation Green Goblin, or talk about grand ideals with Gwen, every comic fan’s first love.
It was a classic case of “I was born too late, and you were born too early.”
If he went to Midtown High right now to try and make friends with Gwen, it would be a crime.
A federal felony, in fact.
So…
with his rather awkward timing, Locke’s life trajectory over the past twenty-five years couldn’t be called totally ordinary, but it was certainly uneventful.
If one had to find a single shining highlight in his twenty-five years of otherwise unremarkable life, it would be that he got into Harvard through ninety-eight percent of his own hard work and two percent family assistance.
His parents in this life were both Harvard alumni, so his attending Harvard made perfect sense.
If anything was unusual, it was that after graduating from Harvard two years ago, he didn’t head to Washington D.C.
to join his parents.
Instead, he asked an older alumnus for a favor and joined the New York branch of the Sentinel Secret Service.
Locke had nothing against mutants.
He wasn’t like the agents who joined the Sentinel Secret Service out of jealousy toward mutant superpowers and a desire to kill them, nor was he like those who joined purely out of blind hatred.
The sole reason Locke chose the Sentinel Secret Service was that, for now, it was the only agency—and the easiest one—to get him in contact with extraordinary individuals.
Even though this was a comic book universe crawling with black tech, where extraordinary beings were treated like dirt, and gods roamed freely…
Most people went their whole lives without touching any of it.
In fact, until the day they died, they probably wouldn’t even qualify to leave their names behind in this world.
No matter which world it was, only one percent of the population shone brightly.
For the remaining ninety-nine percent, all the world granted them was mediocrity—or even suffering.
How did the saying go?
In the comic universe, the rich rely on tech, the poor rely on mutation, and gods rely on lineage.
For an ordinary person in a world that spiraled into disaster once the gears of time started turning, simply living to an old age was already the greatest blessing.
Locke had thought the same way at the beginning.
Set a small goal: try to live to ninety-nine.
He had no choice.
Who told him to transmigrate without a cheat?
At first, Locke held onto a tiny bit of hope, thinking that when he reached puberty, maybe he would awaken an X-Gene and mutate into a mutant himself.
As he had said before, he had no prejudice against mutants.
Unfortunately, right up until he went to college, he never mutated.
From then on, Locke understood there was only one path left for him.
Study peacefully, graduate, find a wife, save up some money, and pull a reverse-emigration back to the East, striving to live out a natural lifespan.
After all, in this comic universe, his homeland in the East was probably the only place that could barely be considered a final sanctuary.
As for becoming the main protagonist in this comic universe?
Not a chance.
He had no system, no mutation, and wasn’t rich.
How the hell could he be a protagonist?
Eat, drink, live to an old age—that would be a winning life.
Save the world?
Maintaining world peace was definitely not something an ordinary guy like him needed to worry about.
If the sky fell and everyone died, he wouldn’t be dying alone anyway.
Not my position, not my concern.
And yet!
Right on the eve of his graduation, when he had already prepped his plan to move to the East, the standard cheat that every transmigrator deserved finally arrived.
Locke still remembered waking up with a splitting headache after a hangover from his graduation prom, only to hear a system prompt chime in his head.
To this day, that voice still sounded like heavenly music.
Locke spent the entire morning figuring out the cheat’s functions and working out how to maximize its efficiency.
Immediately after, he tore his retirement plan into shreds and decisively joined the Sentinel Secret Service.
No transmigrator who crossed over into a comic book universe would actually enjoy slacking off and lying flat.
Locke was no exception.
Fame had its pros and cons.
Before was before, now was now.
He had chosen to accept his fate before simply because he could see his future at a glance.
But…
Compared to an ordinary future, Locke preferred one filled with the unknown and infinite possibilities.
After all, even a salted fish wouldn’t just dry out one side from start to finish; it would definitely want to flip over and bake its back too.
And the arrival of the system two years ago made Locke feel that his time to flip over had finally come.
The scenery outside the window flashed past, pulling Locke’s thoughts back to reality.
With a shift of his mind…
The next second, a minimalist system interface—so simple it looked almost crude—appeared in his vision, visible only to him.
The system was named—
[Transcendent, Become Divine]