Marvel: A Man with a System

David sat on his couch, staring at the translucent blue screen floating in front of him. Now that he was finally home, there was no more avoiding it—he needed to understand what this system was and how it worked.

Taking a deep breath, he willed the system menu to open.

[SYSTEM MENU]

-Status

-Quests

-Inventory

-Lottery

His eyes lingered on "Quests." He tapped on it, and a new screen appeared.

[QUESTS FUNCTION UNLOCKED]

Primary Quests: Major objectives that influence progress.

Side Quests: Optional tasks with rewards.

Daily/Weekly Quests: Recurring missions for smaller rewards.

[Note: The user has the freedom to accept or reject most quests.]

David let out a slow breath. So, I won't be forced into every mission. That's good to know.

The last thing he wanted was to be a puppet controlled by some unseen force. Next, he opened the Lottery function.

[LOTTERY FUNCTION UNLOCKED!]

The lottery can be activated on the 1st and 15th of every month. A single lottery attempt grants three random rewards—these could be weapons, skills, abilities, or even characters from the Omniverse. Rewards are completely luck-based—some draws may result in nothing. Each draw costs System Points (SP).

A final notification appeared.

[FIRST LOTTERY ATTEMPT AVAILABLE!]

There were 9 cards displayed. The user must choose any 3 cards to receive the lottery rewards.

David frowned slightly. A card draw system? He wasn't sure if this was better or worse than a traditional loot box. It all boiled down to luck.

He took a deep breath, trusting his instincts as he tapped three cards.

[CONGRATULATIONS! YOU HAVE RECEIVED:]

-Glock 17 + 5 Magazines + Leg Strap

-$10,000 in Cash

-Skill: Hand-to-Hand Combat (Master) [Passive]

David blinked. "Holy shit." A notification confirmed that the items had been transferred to his Inventory. He immediately checked.

[INVENTORY]

-Glock 17 (5 Mags, Leg Holster)

-$10,000 Cash

-Hand-to-Hand Combat (Master) [Passive Skill]

His focus shifted to the Hand-to-Hand Combat (Master) skill. The moment he clicked the card a notification appeared before him.

[Do you wish to integrate the Hand-to-Hand Combat (Master) skill.]

[Yes/No]

He didn't think twice and clicked yes. The moment he did, a rush of knowledge flooded his mind.

Striking techniques, counterattacks, footwork, grappling—every move, every form, felt like second nature. It wasn't just knowledge; his muscles responded instinctively, as if he had spent years training.

David exhaled sharply and flexed his fingers. He didn't feel physically stronger, but the precision in his movements was undeniable. It was a strange sensation, like unlocking a hidden ability he never knew he had.

"This... this is insane."

Then his gaze fell on the Glock 17 in his inventory, and his excitement dimmed slightly. "A gun?"

Unlike combat skills, he had no experience with firearms in either of his lives. The most he knew about guns came from movies and video games. He wasn't even sure how to hold one properly, let alone shoot accurately.

He sighed. If I have it, I should at least know how to use it.

The thought of handling a lethal weapon made him uneasy, but he wasn't naïve. This was a world filled with aliens, super soldiers, assassins, and secret organizations. Being unarmed was a death sentence.

I'll have to find a gun range and start practicing.

His eyes flicked back to the $10,000 prize. It was an unexpected windfall, but it raised a question—what should he do with it? David leaned back on the couch, rubbing his temples. It was overwhelming, but at least he had a starting point.

He made up his mind. He needed training. But, before David could think further, a faint rotting smell reached his nose.

His expression twisted in disgust. "What the hell…?"

Now that his focus wasn't entirely on the system, he realized his apartment was filthy. The air was stale, dust had settled over everything, and the faint scent of something rotten drifted around the house. and he didn't even notice it because he was so focused on the system and its rewards.

Ugh… yeah, I can't live like this. Sighing, he rolled up his sleeves. Cleaning came first.

David glanced around his apartment. Then, he walked over to the windows, unlocking and pushing them open. A gust of fresh air rushed in. Next was to clean the kitchen nightmare. He braced himself and opened the fridge.

"Oh, hell no."

The stench hit him like a punch to the face. Expired milk, rotting leftovers, and something unidentifiable in the back had turned his fridge into a biohazard zone.

"Alright, you're all getting evicted."

David grabbed trash bags and started dumping everything. Once everything was gone, he scrubbed the shelves, making a mental note to never let this happen again.

He then moved on to the rest of the apartment. He vacuumed the carpet, which had trapped dust and dirt, twice. He wiped down all the surfaces, including the tables, shelves, and counters. Afterward, he went to the bedroom to clean up and gathered his dirty clothes to take to the dry cleaners.

Then last was the bathroom cleanup and thankfully, it wasn't as bad as the kitchen, just dusty.

As he worked, an odd feeling gnawed at him. A gut feeling. Like he was forgetting something important.

Before he could place it—

DING-DONG.

David froze. Taking a deep breath, he walked towards the door and slowly turned the knob.

---

---

Standing outside was an elderly man, somewhere in his early 70s, with sharp yet kind eyes. He was well-dressed, wearing a clean button-up shirt and neatly pressed trousers.

For a second, David blanked, struggling to place him. Then, memories clicked into place—albeit in patches.

"Mr. Thompson?"

The old man smiled. "Ah, David! Finally back among the living, are you?"

David hesitated, rubbing the back of his head. "Yeah… Something like that."

Mr. Thompson's expression softened. "You gave us a scare, son. How are you feeling?"

"Better, but… not exactly myself." He replied.

Concern flickered in the old man's eyes, so David decided to be partially honest "I, uh… I have some memory loss. Some things are clear, but others…" He trailed off, shaking his head.

Mr. Thompson frowned. "Memory loss, huh? That explains a lot."

David raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

The old man sighed, crossing his arms. "Your mother was a dear friend of mine, you know. When I heard what happened, I made sure your apartment didn't fall apart while you were gone. I covered the house bills for the last three months."

David's eyes widened. "Wait… you did?"

Mr. Thompson chuckled, but there was a glint in his eyes. "Of course. But…" He cleared his throat, giving David a knowing look.

Ah. There it is. That feeling.. I was forgetting the Bills

The landlord side of Mr. Thompson was emerging. David sighed. "You came to collect the rent, didn't you?"

The old man grinned. "I may be kind, but I'm not running a charity, son."

David laughed dryly. Yep. He's kind… but shrewd.

"Fair enough," David said, stepping aside. "Come in. Let's talk."

Mr. Thompson nodded and stepped inside, looking around. "At least you finally cleaned up."

David rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Make yourself at home."

As the old man sat down, he added, "Oh, and Joe from your workplace came looking for you. You should probably check in with him."

David frowned. Joe?

He had completely forgotten about work.

David sighed and paid his dues and the current month's rent in cash. Mr. Thompson looked at him weirdly but didn't ask anything.

After some small talk, he left, reminding David to take care of his health.

As the door shut behind Mr. Thompson, David let out a deep breath and leaned against the frame.

Well… that's one problem solved.

Just as he was about to relax—GRRRR... His stomach loudly protested. Right. He hadn't eaten all day

David sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Figures."

Now that he was paying attention to his body, he realized he was exhausted. The past few hours had been a whirlwind—returning home, cleaning, checking the system, dealing with his landlord.

And now?

A dull ache throbbed at the back of his neck and head. It wasn't unbearable, but it was there. Probably a mix of stress, fatigue, and lingering effects from the coma.

David pushed himself off the wall and headed to his bedroom.

---

---

On the bed lay the oversized black hoodie he had tossed aside while cleaning. He grabbed it and slipped it on. Comfortable, loose, and warm. Just what he needed.

Walking over to the nightstand, he reached into his Inventory and withdrew some cash.

He counted out a decent amount, stuffed it into his wallet, and tucked it into his pocket.

"Alright… food first." With that, he grabbed his keys and stepped out into the cool night air.

To Be Continued.....

[STATUS]

Name: David Arthur Brown

Age: 23

Race: Human

Strength: 4

Agility: 5

Intelligence: 9

SP: 0

Skills : Hand-to-Hand Combat (Master)

Inventory: Glock 17 (5 Mags, Leg Holster), $4800 Cash]