By the ti Michael concluded his campaign, nations were left in turmoil. However, his deeds remained largely unknown to the public. The remaining mbers of the World Council swiftly worked to suppress the information, ensuring that the truth of his actions did not reach the masses. But they knew the secret wouldn't stay buried for long. To buy ti, they spread a carefully crafted rumor that beca the talk of the town.
The next day, Michael sat in his room, casually sipping a drink as he turned on the TV. He almost spat out his drink when he heard the news report.
"A shocking developnt today," the news anchor announced, her voice laced with urgency. "Multiple presidents and world leaders were found dead after an investigation by global agencies. Their deaths were reportedly linked to an underground conspiracy that suggested ties to extraterrestrial threats."
Michael leaned back in his chair, chuckling to himself as he muttered, "So they decided to cover it up. Smart move." He shrugged, switching the channel to so music to enjoy the rest of his drink. "Well, it works in my favor, so no complaints."
In Fury's office, the director watched the sa news report, his brow furrowed. The screen displayed images of the supposed "alien conspiracy" as he turned to address a mber of the World Council on a secure video call.
"So, you're behind this?" Fury asked, his tone flat, masking his frustration.
"It's the best option," the Council mber replied coolly. "We can't afford to let this escalate. The public would panic, and you know the kind of chaos that would bring."
Fury folded his arms. "And you're okay with sweeping the deaths of world leaders under the rug? Do I need to remind you—he has the Tesseract cube now?"
The Council mber leaned forward, their expression calm but firm. "That cube was in your hands last ti, Fury, and it nearly destroyed the world. Are you sure you're in a position to lecture us about control?"
Fury's jaw tightened, but he said nothing. Another mber of the Council interjected, their voice carrying a note of finality.
"There will be no 'next ti,' Director Fury. Whatever plans you have, make sure they don't backfire. The world cannot handle another near-apocalypse."
Fury clenched his fists under the desk, but outwardly, he maintained his composure. "Understood," he said, his voice clipped. The screen went dark as the call ended.
He leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling, his mind racing.
"Damn it, White Sorcerer," Fury muttered under his breath. "What are you planning next?"
While the one responsible for all this chaos was leisurely watching TV, Michael found himself imrsed in his downti.
After several hours of binge-watching a new drama, he finally stood up, stretching with a groan. "Alright," he muttered, "ti to see what this 'World Travel Ticket' is all about."
He reached into his inventory and retrieved the ticket—a shining golden coupon adorned with three stars. Each star seed to pulse faintly, holding an air of mystery.
"System, use it," Michael commanded. The ticket floated in mid-air as a radiant light enveloped it. Monts later, three golden portals materialized before him, each glowing with an otherworldly allure.
[Portals have been created. Step inside and enjoy your new world.]
[Note: You must spend at least one year in the chosen world before returning to this one. Ti will be frozen here while you're away, so there's no need to worry about unfinished business.]
[Choose wisely and live your adventure!]
Michael raised an eyebrow, staring at the portals. "That's it? You're not even going to tell the nas of the worlds?" he asked, unimpressed.
[No.]
"Typical," Michael grumbled, crossing his arms. "At least tell this—will I keep my abilities and perks after being thrown into these new worlds?"
[So features will be limited. For instance, the Gacha function will no longer be available. However, you can still use your leveling system and will gain a new class tailored to the world you enter. You'll start fresh but retain your mories and Talent.]
"Wait—what? No Gacha?! How am I supposed to survive without it?" he protested.
The system, sensing his frustration, added: [Fine. Upon arriving in each new world, you will receive one random Gacha spin to aid you. Consider it a bonus.]
Michael sighed but eventually nodded. "Well, I guess that's better than nothing." He turned to the portals, each shimring with golden light. "Now, what about these worlds? Can you give any hints?"
[No. The host just needs to pick one and go. The System isn't in the habit of spoiling surprises.]
Michael rolled his eyes. "Figures." He examined the portals, each one glowing with an enticing allure. "So... which one should I pick first?" he muttered to himself.
After a mont of deliberation, he pointed at the middle portal. "Let's see where this one leads," he said, stepping forward into the unknown.
[Host is Traveling to Another World...]
[Randomizing thod of soul transfer... Reincarnation thod has been selected.]
[Congratulations, Host, on traveling to the world of Supre Magus!]
Michael, hearing this robotic announcent, tried to close his eyes in anticipation—or perhaps out of sheer annoyance—but found he couldn't. A strange sensation coursed through him, as if his very soul was being pulled out of his body.
"Reincarnation? Seriously?" he muttered, though his voice echoed oddly, as if detached from his physical form.
His surroundings faded into a swirling vortex of light and color, leaving him disoriented. He could feel his consciousness stretching, shifting, and reshaping, as though he was being molded into sothing new. Panic briefly set in as he realized he was utterly helpless in this process.
"What kind of cruel joke is this?!" Michael thought, his frustration rising. "At least let pick how I look or sothing!"
The system's calm voice chid in again, ignoring his internal complaints:
[Prepare yourself. The reincarnation process is about to begin.]
Michael's vision was overwheld by a bright flash of light, and then... nothing. Silence. Darkness.
*******
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