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Soccer: I’m Building a Giant in the Premier League

Canserbero10
In the magical year of 2003, a brand-new era quietly arrived. Beckham left for Spain, and a young Portuguese named Cristiano Ronaldo joined Manchester United. Ambitious Wenger led his Arsenal squad into an undefeated season. Over Stamford Bridge, Russian money rained down without restraint, aiming to scoop up all the world's footballing talent. At the North Gate of Hyde Park in central London, Yang Cheng, freshly graduated from university, inherited a nearly bankrupt football club and a piece of prime real estate that made everyone drool with envy. “I’m absolutely the most pathetic transmigrator in history!” “But I will lead my team to conquer the Premier League, Europe, and the world—until all the football giants tremble beneath our feet!” Thank you for the support, friends. If you want to read more chapters in advance, go to my Patreon. Read 30 Chapters In Advance: patreon.com/Canserbero10
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Marvel: God of Spotlight, The Homelander

"I am not Superman. I am Homelander." The whisper was an internal prayer, a caustic reassurance. Outside the glass tower, the world saw only the Homelander, the Icon, the Man Who Flew the Bomb. They saw the perfect, smiling face of the hero who, in the chaos of the Battle of New York, carried a nuclear warhead through the wormhole and saved a city. The cheers from the streets below—the deafening, worldwide adoration—were the fuel for his ascension. He was crowned their king, a savior in star-spangled spandex. In this new reality, fame wasn't just influence; it was power. He had a system now: the Superstar System. The higher the popularity, the stronger the abilities. It was a viciously simple contract, one he embraced completely. "Matt," he purred into the spotlight, curing the blind lawyer's eyes on live television. "Your city needs an icon, not a devil. Let the light in." He assembled his own team—a perfectly marketed, perfectly managed Super Seven—with Spider-Man now running PR and Daredevil as his reformed protégé. Every action was a performance; every enemy, a prop. When the news of a purple alien named Thanos reached his gilded penthouse, Azu smiled, a blinding, dangerous flash for the cameras. "Thanos," he murmured, the adoration of billions surging through his veins, making his skin feel like charged steel. His eyes flared with a dazzling red light that promised annihilation. "I heard you're going to wipe out half of my fans?" He was trapped in the Marvel universe, now its most powerful celebrity. And the show had only just begun.
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