In a ruined world somewhere far from Earth, a young man in his twenties paced restlessly through the wreckage of a collapsed building.
The sky above him was permanently gray, and the distant horizon was littered with ruined cities.
But his attention wasn't on the wasteland.
In front of him floated a translucent interface—one only he could see.
At the top of the panel were four words:
Interdimensional Chatroom
The young man was known within the chatroom as Overlord.
Just moments ago, after obtaining administrator privileges, he had received a system notification.
Three members have reached Level 1.Upgrade requirements met.Upgrade chatroom capacity to 20 members?
A smile spread across his face.
Chatroom levels were tied directly to power.
Reaching Level 1 meant someone had surpassed normal human limits in either destructive capability or physical ability.
Until now, only two members had reached that threshold.
Himself.
And The Noble Blade.
Everyone else came from relatively ordinary worlds.
Which meant one thing.
Someone new had just crossed the line.
Curious, he opened the member list.
The moment he saw the name—
His expression darkened.
Next to Deep Blue, a bold 1 now displayed.
"…Him?"
Overlord stared at the screen in disbelief.
"How is that possible?"
His voice dropped to a mutter.
"I muted him. How did he reach Level 1 this fast?"
Only one explanation made sense.
"The world he landed in must be higher tier than I thought."
He immediately opened the shared file directory.
A moment later, his eyes narrowed.
The download count for one file had increased.
Purple Dawn Technique — Downloads: 6
Before today, it had been five.
Overlord exhaled slowly.
"So that's it…"
"A martial prodigy."
His fingers tapped against the air as he thought.
"This guy is going to become a problem."
He glanced again at the upgrade prompt.
For a moment, he considered expanding the chatroom.
Then he dismissed it.
Not yet.
First, he needed to deal with the unstable variable named Deep Blue.
As he closed the interface, his gaze briefly passed over his own entry in the member list.
Next to his name—
Where a level should have appeared—
Was only a line of question marks.
Meanwhile, in New York.
After rejecting several people who had tried to flirt with him on the way to school, Noah Vale finally arrived at his classroom just before the bell rang.
The moment class started, their biology teacher walked in.
Mr. James set his notes down and looked across the room.
"Before we begin," he said, "a reminder."
"Tomorrow's field trip to Oscorp is an extremely valuable opportunity. I expect everyone who was selected to attend."
His gaze drifted toward the back of the classroom.
Specifically—
Toward Noah.
"Which means no skipping."
Noah, however, seemed completely distracted.
Mr. James sighed quietly and moved on with the lecture.
Noah was slouched over his desk.
A backpack weighed down his shoulders.
His posture looked relaxed, but appearances were deceiving.
His body was actually hovering slightly above the chair—no more than a few millimeters—while his legs held a deep squat beneath the desk.
Training.
Even during class.
Meanwhile, inside his stomach—
Chaos.
The diluted sulfuric acid he had drunk earlier was now working its way through his digestive system.
Burning.
Corroding.
Even with his improved constitution, his internal organs were still human.
And humans were not meant to drink acid.
Pain twisted through his abdomen like a knife.
Noah's lips had gone slightly pale, but his face remained composed.
To distract himself from the pain, he half-listened to the lecture while opening the chatroom interface.
That was when he noticed something new.
A new member had joined.
Crimson Eye
Noah glanced at the profile description.
Then paused.
Level 4.
His eyebrows lifted slightly.
Over the past few days of quietly observing the chatroom, Noah had already figured out what the levels represented.
Power.
And a Level 4 member was easily the strongest person in the chatroom—aside from the mysterious Overlord, whose level couldn't be seen.
Yet surprisingly, Crimson Eye didn't behave arrogantly.
Instead, he chatted with everyone politely.
Friendly tone.
Relaxed attitude.
He asked each member about their world.
How they arrived there.
What their environment was like.
At first glance, it seemed harmless.
But the longer Noah watched…
The stranger it felt.
The questions were leading somewhere.
Eventually, Crimson Eye brought up a suggestion.
Crimson Eye:I just asked Overlord something interesting.
Apparently, if members agree, we can visit each other's worlds.
Everyone here seems pretty friendly.
Why don't we meet in person sometime?
A new notification appeared.
Crimson Eye has sent a cross-world invitation.
Noah examined the request.
Even muted members could still travel if they accepted an invitation.
One by one, several members accepted.
Apparently, the idea of meeting others from different worlds was too tempting to resist.
Soon, only two people hadn't responded.
Overlord.
And Noah.
Noah frowned slightly.
This feels like a trap.
Everything about it felt off.
The friendliness.
The timing.
The way Crimson Eye had guided the conversation.
Whether it was bait or not—
Noah declined the invitation without hesitation.
In the ruined world far away, Overlord's expression stiffened slightly.
For just a moment.
Then he forced his face back to normal.
Around him, several chatroom members had already appeared—curiously exploring the unfamiliar environment.
Another failed plan.
Back in New York, Noah spent the rest of the school day quietly observing the chatroom.
After classes ended, he waved goodbye to Peter Parker and headed toward the gym.
When he arrived, Coach Smith was already waiting.
The large trainer raised a hand.
"You didn't show up yesterday," he said. "Everything alright?"
"No big deal," Noah replied casually. "Just got held up with something."
He definitely wasn't going to explain that he had robbed bank robbers and fought Daredevil.
Noah walked straight toward the weight rack.
"Let's start with barbell presses," he said. "Load it up to two hundred pounds."
Coach Smith froze.
Two hundred?
He stared at Noah for a moment.
The kid had improved again.
In just one day.
At this rate, Smith was starting to wonder if Noah even had limits.
Still, he said nothing.
Ever since realizing Noah might not be an ordinary human, Smith had made a deliberate choice not to ask questions.
They talked about muscle groups.
Training techniques.
Recovery strategies.
But never about mutants.
Or superheroes.
Or anything like that.
And Noah appreciated that.
Because it meant he didn't have to hide as much anymore.
At first, he had been careful—even practicing his energy circulation in secret.
But after seeing how discreet Smith was, Noah had gradually stopped bothering to hide it.
Now he trained openly.
Right there in the private gym.
Circulating power through his body while lifting weights.