Los Angeles International Airport, departure lounge.
At this moment, a small area of eyes frequently turned towards a mixed-race man.
No other reason, just his handsomeness.
He had pure black hair, fair skin without the roughness of Europeans and Americans, and his facial features were in golden proportion.
He was the type who, with just one glance, would make women's legs clench, yet they would also be willing to open for him.
Unlike the "superficiality" of the women, the male compatriots selectively ignored his stunning looks and scrutinized his attire one by one.
His low-key luxurious suit was very tailored, his sapphire blue watch was exquisite and dazzling, and the leather shoes on his feet looked extraordinarily expensive.
After confirming his outfit, he was clearly a wealthy man not to be messed with.
The mixed-race man paid no attention to these gazes; his deep sapphire blue eyes were filled with complex emotions.
Three parts shock, three parts confusion, three parts disbelief, and ninety-one parts amusement.
His name was Victor Chen, a Chinese American. His surname naturally came from his father, Chen, and his given name was chosen by his Russian mother.
In recent days,
several pieces of bad news had not defeated him; instead, they had made him determined to return to China to start a business.
As a Ph.D. in directing from the American Film Institute (AFI), he believed he could inject international elements into the Chinese film industry and create world-class blockbusters belonging to China.
Before boarding,
he took a short rest in the VIP exclusive terminal at Los Angeles Airport, waiting for his mother to arrive—his father was quite displeased with his decision to return to China instead of inheriting his vast family business, so he likely wouldn't come to see him off.
In a haze,
it seemed a voice echoed in his mind, saying that a certain old man had given up the Plane Trading Platform and handed it over to him, and now he would travel to the SS-level plane, the Marvel Universe.
Then... he woke up with a start.
The transition from the VIP exclusive terminal to the departure lounge held no persuasive power for Victor.
The circle of second-generation rich kids he associated with always played without any regard for rules.
Victor smiled helplessly.
Let's just consider it a unique farewell memento.
Taking out his Huawei Mate 20 RS, he prepared to call his friend Druk to stop the prank—this whole charade was most likely orchestrated by him.
With boarding imminent, if he didn't show up, the flight wouldn't dare to take off.
"Dad's private jet is still more convenient," Victor sighed.
Without needing to look through his contacts, he skillfully dialed a number, held the phone to his ear, and subtly prepared his emotions.
Only...
the urgent "beep, beep, beep" tone in his ear interrupted him.
He took the phone away to look, and the center of the screen clearly displayed "Number not activated"—this prompt only appears when a SIM card is not registered or has been canceled.
His first reaction was that Druk had swapped his SIM card.
His gaze swept around, settling on a blonde woman who was a 7 out of 10 overall—this time on a 10-point scale.
To her surprised gaze, Victor approached with an elegant smile and, in a genuine London accent, said, "Excuse me, I'm Victor Chen. What is this beautiful lady's name?"
"Anna!" The blonde beauty's eyes sparkled with light: "Just call me Anna, Oh God! You're absolutely too handsome! I must take a picture with you! My sisters will be so jealous!"
There's a saying that goes, ugly men will never know how proactive women can be.
Faced with Anna's enthusiasm, Victor was accustomed to it and cooperatively acted as a backdrop, unconcerned by Anna's mid-photo touch.
American hot girls are just that direct.
After taking a few photos, he smoothly stated his purpose: "May I borrow your phone for a moment? My phone..."
Before he could finish, Anna rattled off a string of phone numbers—clearly, she had misunderstood something.
Victor's lips pursed in a controlled manner, and he repeated, "Thank you for your recognition. But I genuinely need your phone. You see, my phone... it's on strike."
Victor shook his phone screen, the "Number not activated" prompt conspicuous and glaring.
Anna's smile froze for a moment, her face reddened slightly, but the light in her eyes did not diminish.
She generously handed over her phone, leaning closer to Victor with the movement, and whispered, "I've never tried it at the airport before. Just enjoy, no contact afterwards, what do you think, Victor?"
She couldn't be more proactive.
Victor, however, showed no sign of being moved. He smiled as he took Anna's phone, thanked her softly, and then turned his back to dial a number.
As for Anna's words just now, he selectively ignored them.
He never lacked women.
He was already tired of playing at airports.
So Anna's suggestion was not as appealing as the phone itself.
"Hello, the number you have dialed is not in service. Please check and dial again."
Hearing this prompt, Victor hung up without hesitation, then dialed another number.
Due to their identities, they usually had call blocking set up for unknown numbers.
So, to contact Druk now, dialing his father's personal secretary Kayla's number was the quickest way to resolve it.
Phone prompt: "Hello, the number you have dialed is not in service. Please check and dial again."
Victor raised an eyebrow, confirmed the number was correct, dialed again, and still received the 'not in service' prompt.
This time, he was a little unsettled.
Kayla would never conspire with Druk to prank him; she wouldn't dare offend him, nor would she risk her job, as every missed call could potentially lead to hundreds of millions of dollars in losses.
Excluding all impossibilities, certain remaining possibilities made his expression change slightly.
Still disbelieving, he dialed several more familiar numbers consecutively, all of which prompted 'not in service,' and Victor's heart sank to the bottom.
No way?!
Did he really transmigrate?
As an ambitious second-generation rich kid, the sole heir to a top 100 global conglomerate, Victor was very satisfied with his life.
Transmigration?
What human would want to turn into an ape and re-evolve from scratch?
With a last glimmer of hope, Victor dialed his father's private number, a number exclusively for family contact, known only to himself, his father, and his mother worldwide.
"Beep—"
The sound of a call connecting reached his ear, and Victor let out a huge sigh of relief, then narrowed his eyes slightly with a hint of malice.
Druk's prank this time was quite successful; it really scared him. He would have to find an opportunity to "repay" him well later.
Just as he was planning how to "repay" Druk, the call connected.
Victor spoke first: "Dad, it's me. It's a shame you couldn't make it. My phone ran out of battery, so I borrowed someone else's to say goodbye."
There was no reply from the other end of the line, just silence for a full ten seconds.
Then...
a voice, both unfamiliar and familiar, spoke: "Are scam calls nowadays just calling people 'Dad' right away? I don't remember having a son?"
Victor looked at his phone in confusion.
The phone number was indeed his father's.
Although the voice sounded familiar, it was definitely not his father's; instead, it sounded more like... "Hey, kid, why aren't you talking?" Victor didn't respond, and the person on the other end grew impatient: "Don't tell me, your Mom is one of my ex-girlfriends?!
Unbelievable!
I gave every one of them generous compensation, how could she secretly have an illegitimate child for me?!"
Listening to the voice on the phone, Victor's thoughts were a bit chaotic.
It really wasn't his father's voice!
It really was that person's voice!
Could Druk have invited him to prank him together?
That's not right either!
This number belonged to his father; he absolutely wouldn't mess around with Druk.
"Fuck! Looks like you're serious!" The person on the other end, who knows what he had imagined, spoke with exasperation: "Kid, wait where you are, I'll send someone to pick you up. Let's do a DNA test first.
Fuck!
If this is true, the tabloids will be thrilled! The famous playboy, America's richest man Tony Stark, already has an illegitimate child... Hey kid, by your accent, you must be around sixteen, right?
Oh my god! Your Mom can really hide things!
If you tell me now that you're not my son, I'll definitely give you 100,000 US dollars, I, Tony Stark, guarantee it!"
The other side paused for several seconds, still hearing no response from Victor, and simply hung up the phone.
Victor, meanwhile, was in a state of existential questioning with three consecutive questions:
—Who am I?
Victor Chen, an incredibly handsome Sino-European mixed-race man, a Ph.D. in directing from AFI, a super rich second-generation who, if he doesn't work hard, will have to go back and inherit a top 100 global conglomerate.
—Where am I?
America, Los Angeles Airport, departure lounge.
—What am I doing?
Dialing his father's private number, and the person who answered claimed to be Tony Stark.
After a brief moment of processing, a terrifying thought formed in his mind.
Taking several deep breaths, Victor opened Google search on his phone.
First, he checked the date: March 12, 2008.
Then, looking at the old search interface, he grew increasingly flustered.
Searching for news about his father showed no results.
He then searched for recent news updates.
"Mutants Attack New York Police, Individual Act or Premeditated?"
"Stark Industries' Stock Plummets 37% in First Month After Closing Weapons Division."
"Playboy Tony Stark Not Seen for 30 Days, Confirming Mental Illness!"
...Each news article confirmed that absurd conjecture.
But...
with 21st-century technology and the money and power of Druk and others, these things could potentially be faked on a small scale.
Unless... taking several deep breaths to calm himself down.
Victor gave Anna a slightly stiff smile, shook the phone to indicate he still needed to use it, and after she nodded her permission, he found an unoccupied seat nearby and sat down.
Looking down at his phone, he murmured, "Plane Trading Platform?"
A desperate scene unfolded.
A line of text indeed appeared before his eyes.
[Welcome to the Plane Trading Platform. Would you like to start the novice guide?]
Out of an instinctive rejection of transmigration, his brain subconsciously chose "No."
The interface immediately disappeared.
He blinked hard, confirming there were no invisible contacts or similar items, then let out a deep sigh, his usually straight back slouching back impolitely.
It's over.
He really did transmigrate.
His life had just begun, he had no complaints about it, and his future was full of infinite possibilities.
Why couldn't transmigration find a more deserving dreamer instead of him?!
Fortunately...
the plane he was in was the Marvel Universe created by old man Stan Lee, which he was familiar with.
He just didn't know if it was the movie universe, the animated universe, or the comic universe.
If it was the movie universe, as a Ph.D. in directing from AFI, he might understand this world better than Stan Lee.
He had followed the filming of "Black Panther," "Avengers 3," and "Venom: Lethal Protector" as an intern.
And if it was the latter two... it wasn't that he was unfamiliar.
It was just that with such a perverted power system, with his small arms and legs, his life was full of uncertainty.
He might just step out of the airport and be wiped out by a map-wide attack.
Shaking his head, Victor's expression suddenly turned strange.
Since he had really transmigrated, then the person who answered the phone just now was really Tony Stark, right?
He actually called him Dad!
Oh, no, wait.
Tony said he was going to send someone to "pick him up" for a DNA test!
Based on his understanding of Tony's personality, Victor was 100% certain that once Tony confirmed he wasn't his son, he would definitely keep his promise and give him a hundred thousand US dollars.
Then he would hire a top lawyer to sue Victor for fraud, and he wouldn't get out for at least ten years.
Truly, a minimum of ten years.
The immediate priority was to solve this problem first.
He checked his current possessions.
A suit, a watch, a Huawei phone that couldn't make calls, a wallet with all its cards useless, and a borrowed phone.
After a moment of silence,
Victor summoned the Plane Trading Platform again, then mentally clicked to confirm entering the novice guide—it was clear that this thing could read brainwaves, and it might just be residing in his brain.
The text in his eyes shifted.
[Basic Rules for Plane Merchants: Because each plane has, and only has, one Plane Merchant, it is forbidden to harm the interests or lives of any Plane Merchant, including oneself, in any form. Violators will be punished with the highest penalty of void exile;]
[Agree / Novice Lottery Once;]
[Reject / Unbind Platform;]
If he rejected, would unbinding the platform send him back?
Victor pondered the possibility but ultimately didn't gamble on that low chance—the merchant's instinct instilled by his father made him instinctively reject this unequal gamble.
After clicking agree, he saw... This is a new book by an experienced author. Before it's put on shelves, one chapter will be added for every 5,000 recommendation tickets, to be fulfilled within 24 hours.