Marvel: A Man with a System

[Few Hours Before]

[David's POV]

"David?" Joe's voice carried mild surprise.

A chuckle escaped as I nodded. "Yeah. Been a while, huh?"

Joe took a step closer, giving me a once-over. "Damn, kid. Where the hell have you been? You just disappeared on us. I even came around your house to see what happened to you. Your neighbors said your house was locked for over a month and you weren't there."

I exhaled. "Yeah, remember how I said I was taking a two-day vacation?"

Joe scoffed. "Yeah, I remember. I was the one who suggested it because you looked burned out. But I told you to take a small vacation—not a three-month one, kid."

I paused. Why was I burned out?

Suddenly, the memories started to flood in—fragmented, but intense. I caught glimpses of them. And before I could be completely overwhelmed, everything stopped.

[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]

[Host, the amount of memories can put a strain on your brain.]

[Do you want to receive them later?]

[Y/N]

"Shit." I cursed internally. Not just because of the memories, but also because of what the system just did.

It can interfere with my mind? That was a terrifying realization.

After a moment, I mentally selected Yes, and the notification disappeared.

Just then, Joe's voice cut through my thoughts. I shook myself out of it and forced my expression to stay neutral. I need to sort through these memories later.

Still, I answered, "Yeah, sorry. Just got sidetracked. But anyway, I took your advice seriously. Problem is, Bad Luck decided to stalk me during that vacation. Got into an accident. A real bad one."

[Present Time]

[Third POV]

After David reached home He settled onto the couch, leaning back with a deep breath. He closed his eyes, letting the memories come. Scenes played out in his mind like a fragmented movie.

Hiss breathing grew shallow as the memories finally hit him all at once. His grip tightened around his shirt as if grounding himself from the emotional storm inside his head.

A fresh wave of memories crashed over him.

Detective Alan Sloane.

The old David had been naïve, desperately clinging to the idea that justice still meant something. After his mother's death, he had discovered something—something important. He had taken it straight to the detective handling the case, hoping for answers.

Sloane had promised to look into it.

And two days later, two men in suits showed up at his house.

David's fingers curled into a fist.

They hadn't needed to be violent. Their words were smooth, their smiles even reassuring. But beneath the surface, their message was clear.

"Some things are better left buried, Mr. Brown. Take the money. Move on with your life."

A day later, millions of dollars were deposited into his bank account.

And the old David… he had folded.

Fear. Helplessness. The realization that he had no power against whoever was behind his mother's death. He took the money.

He gave up.

And for one night—just one—he slept peacefully.

But the next two days? He thought he did. Then slowly that's when the guilt started to eat him alive.

He couldn't sleep. He couldn't stop thinking about it. He had abandoned his mother's justice. The money felt like blood money, poisoning his every thought.

So he worked.

Extra shifts. Double shifts. A second job at a bar. Anything to exhaust himself, to drown out the guilt.

But it wasn't enough.

His hands shook from exhaustion, his mind fogged up from lack of rest. Joe had noticed—of course, he did. The man was rough around the edges, but he was observant.

"Kid, you're gonna drop dead if you keep this up. Take a damn vacation."

So he did.

And then the Chitauri Invasion happened.

But the most disturbing part?

He hadn't even tried to run.

David's breath caught in his throat as he remembered. The old him had been high on pills, lying in his hotel room as buildings outside crumbled.

And his final thoughts?

"I should have fought back. I should never have agreed. I should never have taken the money. After everything Mom did for me, I betrayed her. I am a coward. A worthless, pathetic coward."

"I'm sorry, Mom. I'm sorry for being born as your son. I'm sorry for being weak."

Then, he heard the explosions. The screams. The chaos.

And he saw it—one of the buildings across the street crumbling, its debris heading straight for the building he was in.

He didn't move. He accepted it. The weight of his cowardice crushed him long before the rubble did.

And then… darkness.

--

--

David exhaled sharply, his body trembling slightly as he came back to the present. He was back in his apartment, sitting on his couch, but his hands were still clenched into fists.

He had always assumed the old David had simply been an unlucky civilian caught in the crossfire.

But no.

The old David had wanted to die.

And that realization sent a shiver down his spine.

He took a deep breath, forcing his hands to unclench. He wasn't that person. Not anymore.

But as he processed the memories, something else hit him.

The new David—the now David—he had not lived an easy life either.

He was not a genius. Not talented. But he had been a hard worker.

He had grown up an orphan, clawing his way to survival. Getting a simple regular job in his past life had been an uphill battle.

He was a silent guy, but never a coward. A loner, but never weak.

He had seen both sides of society—the struggles of the powerless and the corruption of those with power. He had learned to be paranoid because only fools trusted blindly.

And now, for the first time, he felt the depth of the old David's emotions—the love his mother had for him, the warmth of a family he had never known.

He felt her struggles, the sacrifices she had made as a single parent.

He felt her love. Her pride when the old David graduated. Her joy when she saw him grow.

Tears unknowingly rolled down his cheeks. For the first time since waking up in this world, he felt… whole. Like his soul had truly settled into this body. Like he was David Arthur Brown.

He wiped his tears, taking a deep breath.

The weight of the past no longer crushed him. It strengthened him.

He would get the justice the old David couldn't. He would have his revenge. And for that, he needed to get stronger.

This world wasn't simple. No world was simple enough to just walk in and take what you wanted.

Strength was required to survive. Not just physical strength. Mental. Psychological. The strength to face everything that was coming. and he had the means to now. He was now somewhat happy for having a system.

Ding!

Just as David resolved himself, a notification sound echoed in his ears, and the system interface materialized before his eyes.

[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]

[Primary Mission: Revenge

Objective: Make those responsible for your mother's murder pay.

Time Limit: 1year

-Rewards: 500 SP

-A Skill

-Mystery Box]

He didn't think his resolve would be rewarded like this. even though he was uncomfortable about having something that can access his mind for now he was content. He would have to deal with with it in the future if any problem arises. Just as he was relived. another notification sound and the hologram came up again.

[Side Mission: Change House

Objective: Stay away from a bugged house.

Time Limit: 1 week

Rewards: 50 SPA

A random lottery Card]

David's eyes narrowed.

His house… was bugged?

A slow, icy realization settled over him. They were still watching him. That's when it struck him if it was bugged before. he would have gotten this mission earlier. 

They were in his apartment today. Shit.

David let out a slow breath, forcing himself to relax. No sudden moves. No reckless actions.

He wasn't going to react immediately. That was what they wanted—some kind of response. Instead, he would take his time, make his preparations.

The system's inventory was his advantage. Over the next few days, he would slowly move his essentials—little by little—until he could leave without suspicion.

He checked his phone. August 29th.

That meant three more days until the next lottery draw.

He didn't know what kind of rewards he'd get, but every resource mattered. If he was going to face whatever shadowy force was behind his mother's death, he needed every advantage he could get.

But for now… rest.

Before going to bed, David pulled out the pistol from his inventory. His hands felt awkward around the grip as he fumbled with the magazine, clumsily loading the bullets. He had only ever seen guns in movies in both his lives, and the weight of the real thing in his hands was a stark reminder of his inexperience.

Once it was loaded, he placed it back into his inventory and tested how quickly he could summon it. In an instant, the gun appeared in his grip. Satisfied with the speed, he returned it to the inventory, exhaling.

For now, that would have to be enough.

He walked to his nightstand, grabbed the pain meds the hospital had prescribed, and swallowed one dry. The dull ache in his neck and shoulder and after today's mental exhaustion, he needed rest.

David lay back on the bed, closing his eyes. The meds were already taking effect, dulling the pain.

In one week, he would leave this place.

--

--

[Unknown POV]

Inside a dimly lit office, a man flipped through a worn folder, the pages inside filled with reports and surveillance notes. A single photograph was pinned to the front—David Brown.

He exhaled through his nose, irritation flickering in his cold gray eyes. "So… the kid finally crawled back."

A voice crackled through his earpiece. "Didn't think he had the balls to return."

His fingers tapped idly against the desk. "He's been gone for a while. For all we knew, he was dead."

"I did some digging and it seems he was caught up in the chitauri invasion. Was in the hospital for the past few. Also seems to have some problems with his memories." The other man spoke.

The man let out a low chuckle, eyes scanning the report in front of him.

A pause. "Want me to send someone in?"

"No," he finally said. "We watch. See what he does. If he's just a broken man looking to waste away, fine. But if he starts poking around again…"

His eyes flicked back to David's photo, his gaze darkening.

"Then we remind him, by jogging his memories, why he took the money in the first place."

To be continued...