Marvel: Starting as a Time Criminal, Stealing Powers

Russell had planned to visit the black market the next day.

But, as usual, he procrastinated… until the fifth day.

Why didn't he go earlier?

Well, his self-control wasn't exactly ironclad. He'd just kept putting it off.

The good news? At least he didn't have to travel on foot this time.

Driving his well-worn Honda Odyssey—whose mileage had been maxed out ages ago—he took about three hours to reach the mine.

Last time, he could only watch from afar.

This time, he drove straight in.

Although fighting was strictly prohibited in the black market, Russell still chose not to bring Laura with him.

The little wolf girl had been sulking recently—mostly because she hadn't managed to beat him even once.

Now she was training at home with fierce determination, hell-bent on finally taking him down.

After parking the car, Russell stepped out and glanced around.

Outside the mine entrance stood two dilapidated wooden houses, built in an 18th-century Western saloon style. Abandoned. Empty.

The actual black market was located inside the mine.

Despite what you'd expect, the cave wasn't dark. Old incandescent bulbs were hung every ten meters along the tunnel walls, casting dim pools of light.

Russell descended diagonally into the tunnel, walking more than a hundred meters before stopping.

A large golden door appeared before him—its surface carved with ancient cuneiform symbols.

It radiated a strong Egyptian aesthetic—completely out of place in a mining cave.

But that wasn't the most shocking thing.

Russell almost attacked on instinct—

Two figures in TVA combat uniforms were stationed beside the golden gate!

However, a closer look revealed the truth: their uniforms were tattered, their faces unkempt.

Fakes. Just two time offenders cosplaying as TVA agents.

He guessed the black market's owner used them to scare first-timers.

"I don't think I've seen you around," one of them said.

"You know the rules?" added the other.

Russell nodded.

"No fighting. And you have to pay at least 0.1 ounces of gold, right?"

Laura had warned him of this.

He could understand the no-violence rule. But the gold requirement?

That made no sense.

This was a lawless wasteland—the Void. What use was gold here?

Luckily, Laura had saved some, or he'd have had to find it elsewhere.

Russell took out a small, fingernail-sized piece of gold and handed it over.

The moment the gatekeeper took it, a piercing system alert echoed in his mind:

[Warning!]

[0.1 micrograms of spiritual essence will be lost shortly.]

[Ding!]

[Soul immunity triggered!]

[Warning canceled.]

Russell froze.

"You're not going in?" one of the guards asked impatiently. "Gold won't be refunded."

Russell smiled awkwardly.

"No, no—I'm going in. Just remembered I forgot to refuel the car. Getting back might be tricky."

The other gatekeeper scoffed proudly.

"You're clueless. As long as you've got something valuable to trade, forget gasoline—you could even get a suit of Iron Man armor."

Russell nodded, thanked them, and walked through the gate as it shimmered and became intangible.

But the smile on his face vanished.

He finally understood—

This so-called "gold tax" wasn't about gold at all.

It was a soul transaction!

The so-called gold absorbed spiritual essence—the essence of the soul.

0.1 micrograms seemed trivial… but over time? After thousands—millions—of transactions?

That was a colossal amount of soul energy.

He was sure the entity behind this black market had ties to the Egyptian Pantheon.

But what puzzled him was…

Why was he immune to soul extraction?

Could it be because he was a transmigrator—someone whose soul didn't belong to this world?

If so… wouldn't that give him a huge edge in dealing with someone like Mephisto?

He immediately shook the thought from his mind.

The demon lord Mephisto was far more dangerous than any Egyptian god.

Right now, his priority was staying undetected.

Would the system notice that he hadn't truly traded spiritual essence?

Russell lingered behind the door, ready to teleport out at the first sign of trouble.

But he suspected the soul absorption wasn't directly monitored by the higher-ups—it was likely just a built-in magical protocol.

The fact that the door became transparent probably meant the transaction was considered "complete."

A few minutes later, the door shimmered again.

Another figure stepped through.

Russell's eyes widened slightly—it was a familiar face.

He looked exactly like Captain America.

Instinctively, Russell's eyes drifted to his backside…

Meh. Not firm enough.

Definitely not Steve Rogers. Not even the Hydra Cap version.

Then—

"Get outta my way, you creep!"

"Damn it, even in the Void, someone's still checking out my ass!"

"Being this handsome is a curse!"

The man shot Russell a warning glare, then stormed off muttering curses.

Russell's mouth twitched.

Yup. No doubt about it—it was Thunderbolt, the infamous narcissist.

Guy really made you want to punch him.

Shaking his head, Russell followed behind him.

After passing through a corridor, the space suddenly expanded.

A massive underground hall, over 10,000 square meters in area.

Above was a glowing mini sun embedded in the ceiling, casting a golden daylight glow across the space.

Russell only needed a glance to realize it was an illusion—likely created by magic.

His Knowledge Curse trait had triggered again—he instinctively understood magical structures.

He made a mental note—if he got the chance, he had to study at Kamar-Taj. It would definitely pay off.

Only then did he begin surveying the black market properly.

The market was circular in layout.

Inner ring: Items stored and sold through the black market system.

Outer ring: Time criminals sitting on the floor, selling random junk.

Laura had mentioned this setup before.

Russell glanced around the outer ring—mostly garbage.

Then he walked straight into the inner circle.

To his surprise, he actually found steel armor components!

He identified four computing modules—exactly what he needed.

He checked the trade conditions for them:

1 ton of food

3 cubic meters of alcohol

50 bottles of painkillers (500 tablets)

A large number of weapons

Advanced tech devices

Magical artifacts

Pretty steep—but also reasonable, considering the Void's harsh environment.

The sellers were clearly smart.

Still, Russell wasn't worried.

He could craft magical tools.

Like the red crystal defense amulet that Baron Mordo once used. The crafting method had been unlocked in his system entry.

As long as he found the right gemstone, he could replicate it.

And gems were easier to find than food or weapons.

For now, since he couldn't afford it yet, he wandered the market casually.

Eventually, he used some compressed food and canned goods he'd brought to trade for gasoline and a new set of clothes for Laura.

Holding the fuel can, Russell turned to leave.

Meanwhile…

Thunderbolt walked out of the mine, carrying a box of canned food.

But as he stepped outside, his face darkened.

Just 50 meters away, a flaming hot rod and two heavily modified trucks were parked ominously near the mine entrance.

Six or seven people leaned against them, or sat casually—but every single one of them was staring in his direction.

Thunderbolt's face twisted.

He shouted:

"You flaming garbage heaps! You know the rules!"

"This is the black market—you're blocking the entrance!"

"Even hell's demons have more honor than you!"

He'd heard rumors that a psycho woman was after him.

But he hadn't expected her to act here of all places!

No one dared make trouble in the black market!

Before he could say more, someone across the way yelled:

"Shut it, Thunderbolt! This ain't about you!"

"You? Worth ambushing? Don't flatter yourself!"

"You've been stuck in the Void so long, you still think you're famous? Scram!"

Thunderbolt froze.

If it wasn't him… then who?

No way. These filthy freaks must be bluffing!

Then suddenly—a calm voice sounded behind him:

"Please move."

"I've got some trash to take out. My girlfriend's waiting for dinner."

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