Chapitre 1: Chapter 1: Your System Trial Card Has Expired
"I regret to inform you, Mr. White, that our examination shows you have late-stage lung cancer. If you wish, we can start chemotherapy immediately. However, from a personal perspective, I would recommend palliative care instead."
"What are the chances if I start chemotherapy now?" Noah White lifted his head and looked at the doctor in front of him.
"Optimistically, it might give you a few more months."
"I'll think about it. I need to think about it."
When he left the hospital, Noah's face was pale, and his lips were dry. Stray strands of hair fell from his head, leaving a few messy wisps clinging to his pallid forehead.
The passersby at the hospital entrance moved like waves, close yet distant, ebbing and flowing in their routines. Noah felt as though he stood in another world—isolated, hopeless.
In a daze, he returned home and collapsed onto his sofa. The reflection on the TV screen showed his sunken cheeks and hollow eyes. Each breath felt like it drained the last bit of energy from his frail body.
Fresh out of college, Noah had worked tirelessly for two years to establish himself in the city. Despite occasional health issues, he had ignored them in his pursuit of promotions and raises.
It wasn't until he started coughing up blood and experiencing sharp chest pains a few days ago that he finally went to the hospital. By then, it was already too late.
He lifted his arms and stared at his hands, feeling a hollow emptiness in his heart—like a blank sheet of paper. The cancer diagnosis had drained all hope from him, extinguishing any expectations for the future. He just wanted to fade away in this haze of despair and confusion.
That seemed better than spending a fortune lying in a hospital bed, hooked up to machines, only to gain two more months.
[Do you want to understand the meaning of life? Do you want to truly... live?]
"Who—who's talking?"
Noah jolted upright from the couch, his eyes darting nervously around the room. Suddenly, he noticed a translucent, floating white screen that had appeared before him. On it, bold, elegant letters shimmered slightly, displaying the very words he had just heard.
Was he hallucinating?
The thought was quickly dismissed. Reaching out, Noah tried to touch the words, but his hand passed through them. He circled the screen, noting that it always faced him, neither too close nor too far.
Then, two new buttons appeared beneath the words, symmetrical and with a slightly darker outline, giving them the look of real buttons.
[YES] [YES]
"Do you want to truly live? Yes or no? Seriously? Who hasn't read Terror Infinity at this point?"
Noah sighed, slapping his forehead and dragging his hand down to cover his eyes. The timing was too perfect. Diagnosed with cancer one moment, then approached by a "system" the next. It felt almost orchestrated.
On the other hand, wasn't this kind of offer too clichéd? Mainstream systems in urban novels provided comfort and power, while stepping into a Lord God's space usually meant constant peril and a high risk of becoming cannon fodder.
If he chose "YES," he'd likely be trapped in a never-ending cycle of challenges. But if he chose "NO," would another system come knocking?
This floating screen seemed to be his last lifeline.
"I do want to live. Very much, in fact. But why are there only two 'YES' options?"
Lowering his hand, Noah blinked at the screen, suddenly sensing that something was amiss.
[Ding!]
[The host did not choose in time. The system has selected randomly.]
Before Noah could react, the two options faded quickly, almost as if fleeing from his reach. Just before disappearing completely, the rightmost "YES" seemed to morph into "NO."
[Beginning world selection...]
[World selection complete!]
[Target World: Marvel Universe—2149.]
"2149?"
Noah scratched his chin. As someone who enjoyed reading comics, he felt the number seemed familiar. Yet, when the system mentioned such a specific universe designation, he couldn't immediately recall which one it was.
Pulling out his phone, he searched online. Within seconds, he found his answer.
"Oh no. No, no, no, no."
He laughed awkwardly, rubbing his hands together as he stared at the floating screen, now at a loss for words. Slowly, he began backing away.
The Marvel Zombies universe? That was no place anyone would want to be. In that world, even the wildest dystopian imaginations would seem tame. To call it a horror story would be an understatement.
[The host did not confirm in time. The system has locked in the selection.]
"Wait!"
A bright white light engulfed Noah. As his body began to twist and fade from his living room, the phone he had been holding slipped from his grasp, floating momentarily before crashing onto the tiled floor.
---
A pink lightning bolt tore through the skies over New York City, its serpentine shape illuminating the storm clouds. Moments later, a deafening rumble echoed across the skyline as rain poured down in torrents.
"Aaaahhh!"
A figure plummeted from the sky, landing hard in a massive dumpster. After a moment, he crawled out, coughing and wheezing.
"Cough, cough... ugh! Damn it…"
"My back…"
Standing beside the dumpster, Noah brushed himself off. Fortunately, the trash inside consisted mostly of plastic wrappers, cushioning his fall and sparing him from the stench.
[Newcomer rewards being distributed.]
[Non-Desert Eagle Handgun with limited bullets.]
With a clatter, a Glock 20 handgun landed at Noah's feet, accompanied by a small pile of golden bullets. Picking up the weapon, a strange sense of clarity washed over him. In mere seconds, he felt as though he had mastered the gun's mechanics, from disassembly to firing.
He even felt physically stronger, his earlier frailty replaced with a newfound vitality.
[Your system trial card has expired. The host did not provide a timely evaluation. Default rating: Positive.]
Then, the screen vanished—not gradually as before, but instantaneously.
Before Noah could process what had just happened, a loud roar from the sky startled him. Looking up, he saw a massive black aircraft hovering just meters above the ground. Its wings tilted downward like a bird preparing to dive, and its sleek fuselage trembled slightly. At the rear, the hatch was wide open, clearly waiting for someone.
"Luke! Hurry up! The cops at Times Square are calling again. Something's changed, and we need to move!"
A man shouted from the aircraft. Squinting, Noah could barely make out someone waving from the open hatch.
"On my way!"
Seconds later, a large man in a yellow jacket leapt from a nearby rooftop, soaring dozens of meters through the air to land effortlessly inside the aircraft. The hatch closed, and blue flames burst from the engines as the aircraft vanished into the storm clouds.
"If I'm not mistaken, that was Luke Cage, the Power Man. And if they're heading to Times Square..."
Noah gritted his teeth, tapping his forehead lightly with the gun handle. Right. Today wasn't just any day.
Today marked the beginning of the Marvel Zombies outbreak.
This was the day the world's superheroes would be infected.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone