Lynn opened his eyes.
The smell of disinfectant pierced his nostrils, and a monotonous white ceiling came into view.
Waves of dull pain radiated through his body.
Especially his head, which felt as if it had been smashed by something heavy.
Unfamiliar memories flooded into his mind without warning.
The battlefield, trenches, the sound of explosions right next to him, and the stubborn clicking of a camera shutter in the chaos.
His name was Lynn Morris, a war correspondent sent to the front lines.
He remembered the reason for his injury.
A shell exploded nearby, the scorching blast wave flipped him over, and after the intense pain came endless darkness.
"I'm still alive..."
This realization filled him with a sense of relief.
He instinctively looked around to analyze the situation: this was a temporary field hospital, short on supplies and with crude conditions.
Just as he was pondering how to survive in this hellish year of 1943, a clear, pleasant voice sounded directly in his mind.
[Host's mental fluctuations detected as stable, activation criteria met]
[Superhero Entertainment Achievement System officially activated]
Lynn was stunned at first, then his reason was swept away by wild joy!
It's here!
The essential golden finger for transmigrators!
This was the only ray of hope that could help him escape this hell after experiencing death on the battlefield and endless darkness!
In this 1943, where human lives were as cheap as grass, he finally had a trump card to flip the table!
[This system is the Superhero Entertainment Achievement System, designed to assist the host in creating and cultivating superheroes, bringing all-around improvements to the host through completing various achievements]
"Create superheroes? In this era?"
Lynn suddenly felt it was absurd.
It was 1943!
There was a war going on everywhere!
A reporter who could die at any moment was going to create superheroes?
[For every superhero successfully created or cultivated by the host, 10% of their abilities will be synchronized and amplified to the host's own body]
[Completing achievements related to superheroes will grant a lottery draw opportunity]
Lynn's heart began to race.
Ability synchronization?
Lottery opportunities?
This sounded much more promising than being a war correspondent.
[Newbie gift pack has been issued]
[Contents: One superhero draw opportunity]
[Card pool range: All superheroes or villains outside the Marvel Universe]
Lynn's breathing became rapid.
This meant DC, Dark Horse, or all those other powerful characters were in the card pool!
"Superman, I want Superman!"
He shouted internally.
As long as he drew Superman, let alone the World War II battlefield, he could walk sideways across the entire Earth!
"System! Start the draw!"
[Newbie hero draw program initiated]
A virtual wheel appeared in Lynn's mind, covered with countless grids with names that couldn't be seen clearly.
The wheel began to spin rapidly.
He could even imagine the scene after obtaining Superman's powers...
Flight, heat vision, invulnerability... even a weakened version would be enough to become the terminator of the war.
The speed of the wheel gradually slowed down, and the blurred names began to become clear.
The Flash, Wonder Woman, Spawn, Hellboy...
Each of these names made Lynn feel excited.
Any one of them would be enough for him to establish himself in this World, or even live better.
The pointer finally passed over those familiar names and slowly stopped on a grid he had some impression of.
[Congratulations to the host, you have drawn the superhero — Soldier Boy]
The wheel disappeared.
A character card floated in Lynn's mind.
The man on the card wore a dark green tight-fitting combat suit, held a triangular shield, and had a resolute face, but his eyes revealed arrogance and violence.
Soldier Boy.
The excitement on Lynn's face turned into disappointment.
Of course he knew this guy.
That arrogant, stupid, vulgar guy who, as a so-called "hero," had done all sorts of bad things.
A complete scumbag, a walking trouble-making machine.
Lynn felt a lump in his chest, unable to breathe it out or swallow it down.
From heaven to hell, it only took one lottery result.
Soldier Boy, this name represented violence and unpredictable disaster.
Let him appear on the World War II battlefield?
Lynn could foresee that this guy would be more destructive than the German Army's artillery fire.
Give up?
Giving up meant continuing to be that war correspondent who could be killed by a stray bullet at any moment, continuing to struggle in this mud and despair.
Until the second death arrived.
Lynn closed his eyes, reviewing the memories of this body in his mind.
The soldiers in the trenches were sharing hard black bread one second, and the next, they were blown to pieces by a shell.
He even saw a seventeen-year-old signalman who, before dying, was still clutching a photo of his fiancée in his arms.
Death, on this land, was the cheapest thing.
Giving up Soldier Boy meant he had to return to despair.
No... he didn't want to die again.
That helplessness of being swallowed by darkness, he had had enough!
Damn it, if a transmigrator can still get killed, what's the point of transmigrating?
Ruthless emotions grew wildly like weeds in the bottom of his heart; Lynn opened his eyes, disappointment and dejection completely crushed.
"A venomous snake can kill enemies if used well."
Lynn whispered.
"There's no way back; no matter what demons or monsters they are, they have to pull the cart for me!"
This guy's abilities were decent.
Super strength, super endurance, and he could release deadly energy blasts.
But his personality was a grenade with the pin pulled.
Moreover, the system did not specify whether the summoned hero was loyal.
Lynn closed his eyes, focusing all his attention on the Soldier Boy card in his mind.
That man wearing a dark green uniform, holding a shield, with an unruly look in his eyes.
"Summon Soldier Boy."
At the same time the command was issued, Lynn felt a weakness originating from the depths of his soul that made his vision go black; an intense dizziness struck him, almost causing him to fall off the hospital bed.
A faint golden light flashed in front of Lynn's hospital bed, and then a tall figure appeared out of thin air.
The scent of whiskey, cheap cigars, and sweat hit his face.
It made Lynn feel dizzy.
He was wearing that dark green combat suit, and the golden eagle emblem on his chest was shining in the dim light.
Soldier Boy.
He had really appeared.
The man's short golden hair was a bit messy, and his handsome face carried confusion and the bewilderment of a hangover.
He blinked, his blue eyes scanning the surrounding environment.
The crude iron bed.
The peeling white walls.
And Lynn, wearing a hospital gown, on the bed.
"Where is this?"
"Which bastard brought me to this hellhole?"
Lynn's heart was pounding in his chest.
The real person brought a sense of oppression that was countless times stronger than on the card.
That aggressive aura made his already dull-aching head feel even worse.
"It was me."
Lynn forced himself to calm down.
Soldier Boy's brows furrowed deeper; he took a step forward and looked down at Lynn, as if looking at a bug.
"You? A dying kid?"
His tone was filled with mockery and disbelief.
"Don't play such jokes on me, kid. Tell me, who did this? Is it the Russians? Or did those bastards at Vought pull some new stunt again?"
Reasoning with this kind of person wouldn't work.
He had to use the simplest, most direct way to make him understand the current situation.
Lynn raised his hand and pointed to a yellowed wartime poster on the wall; a line of small print was printed in the corner of the poster.
"Welcome to... 1943."
"What did you say?"
"I said, it is 1943, World War II, you are not in your own time anymore."
Soldier Boy rubbed his nose; he hadn't snorted anything today, had he?
He looked down at his hands and the surrounding environment again, his expression shifting from confusion to shock, and finally to uncontrollable rage.
"1943? Are you f--king kidding me?"