Standing on a completely unfamiliar street, Ryan Cole was utterly dumbfounded.
And honestly, who wouldn't be?
Just ten minutes ago, Ryan had still been in his bedroom, tissue in hand, fully prepared to get some "cardio" in with a freshly downloaded action flick.
Then—pants barely off—a guy claiming to be a god casually popped into his room.
For a guy like him, ghosts and gods were things you heard about in folktales. Not something you actually believed in. Even if you didn't outright deny their existence, you definitely didn't believe anyone just because they said they were a god.
Especially not this one.
From hairstyle to clothes, from face to physique—nothing about the guy screamed "divine being." If anything, slapping two extra words onto his title would've made him more believable.
Like "mental patient."
But then the so-called god snapped his fingers and instantly teleported Ryan's greasy, creepy next-door neighbor, straight into the room.
And then—baam!—turned that guy into a pale-skinned, curvy, blonde bombshell who immediately launched into an R-rated, adults-only dance routine.
Ryan almost got a nosebleed.
At that point, he believed. Completely.
According to this painfully average god, Ryan had been "lucky" enough to be chosen as a Divine Candidate.
And being a Divine Candidate meant passing a trial granted by said god.
The trial itself was simple: toss Ryan into the Marvel Universe and see if he survived.
As for why—the god didn't bother explaining. Apparently, even divine beings could be vague jerks.
Once Ryan realized he had zero right to refuse, he immediately accepted reality.
After all, he firmly believed in the ancient wisdom:
"Life is like getting screwed—if you can't fight back, you might as well lie down and endure it."
So he chose acceptance.
Unfortunately, before he could negotiate better benefits or even ask for the trial's details, another finger snap hit him.
His vision went white.
And then—he was here.
It took Ryan a while to recover, but once he did, he immediately noticed the strange looks from the foreigners walking past him on the street.
Only then did he realize he was still wearing summer pajamas.
After quickly scanning his surroundings, Ryan hurried into a nearby alley.
He didn't need to be a genius to know that if he stayed out there much longer, the cops would invite him in for a friendly chat.
Peeking out from the alley entrance and confirming there was no risk of being robbed—or worse, robbed of something else—Ryan tucked himself into a relatively clean corner.
To feel a little safer, he grabbed a wooden stick from a nearby trash pile. It was about as thick as a baby's arm and clearly snapped off from some unknown piece of furniture.
Crude, but better than nothing.
Once hidden, Ryan forced himself to calm down and assess his situation.
First:
If this wasn't some hyper-realistic hallucination or a Matrix-style simulation, then he had genuinely crossed worlds.
And judging from the circumstances, this wasn't the usual soul-transfer trope.
This was a full physical transfer.
Honestly, he would've preferred a soul transfer. At least then he'd have a legal identity.
Right now? He couldn't explain who he was or where he came from—and even if he did, no one would believe him.
Sure, people say your body is a gift from your parents. But if your life's on the line, swapping bodies isn't exactly a dealbreaker.
Beyond identity issues, Ryan faced another massive problem.
Language.
Sure, English had been a mandatory subject back home. But he'd long since returned his exam-English to his teachers.
Between identity and language, Ryan considered language the bigger threat.
No ID was survivable.
No communication? That was a slow death.
Second:
If this really was the Marvel Universe, he needed to know which one.
Ryan wasn't a hardcore Marvel fan, but he'd seen enough movies to know how insanely vast Marvel's multiverse was.
God knew which parallel Earth he'd landed on.
Of all Marvel worlds, the Marvel Cinematic Universe was the safest.
It was separate from the main comic universe (Earth-616) and the Ultimate Universe (Earth-1610), officially designated Earth-199999.
Still dangerous—but compared to the comic worlds? Practically a daycare.
Third:
No matter which Marvel world this was, boosting his personal strength ASAP was the top priority.
The god hadn't set specific trial goals, but Ryan knew one thing: survival came first.
That meant fully exploiting the cheat the god had given him.
According to the information that had appeared in his mind, his cheat was the ability to travel to other worlds.
Insanely powerful.
But not without limits.
There were two restrictions.
First, he could only use it once per Earth month.
Second, he could only travel to movie worlds.
The good news? Both restrictions were marked as temporary.
Meaning, under certain conditions, they could change.
The bad news?
Those changes might not benefit him.
And if they went the wrong way, he was screwed.
Still, Ryan knew this was beyond a nobody like him to control.
So once again—accept reality.
Fourth:
Even with world-hopping powers, choosing the right world was critical.
One bad jump and he could die instantly.
A little paranoia wasn't a bad thing.
Fifth:
Once he gained some basic strength, how was he supposed to survive long-term in this unknown world?
Thankfully, that problem was still far off.
Ryan shoved it out of his mind.
After summarizing everything, Ryan set his criteria for his first jump.
First:
The world had to be relatively safe.
Second:
It needed a way for him to quickly learn English.
Without that, everything else was pointless.
Third:
It had to significantly increase his survivability.
After some thought, he found a near-perfect target.
Not flawless—but good enough.
With his destination locked in, Ryan glanced at the thick wooden stick in his hand and gave a bitter smile before closing his eyes.
After a few deep breaths, the pajama-clad Ryan vanished from the alley.
Thankfully, for a first jump, the transition went smoothly.
When Ryan opened his eyes, he saw a disheveled man walking ahead of him, holding a brown paper bag of food and a freshly dry-cleaned suit.
This wasn't the time to hesitate.
Ryan forced himself into focus.
Thanks to the pajamas, when the man heard something behind him and instinctively turned around, he didn't register any danger.
After all, who would be wary of a skinny, young Asian guy in sleepwear inside an apartment building?
That assumption cost him dearly.
BAM.
The wooden stick met the back of Eddie Morra's head with an intimate thud.
Just as Eddie was about to open the door, his vision went black.
One hit wasn't enough.
To be safe, Ryan clenched his teeth and swung twice more before dragging the possibly unconscious—or possibly dead—Eddie into the half-open apartment.
No time to waste.
Ryan shut the door, grabbed a pair of rubber gloves like he remembered from the original movie, and headed straight for the unused oven in the open kitchen.
Moments later, he pulled out a shiny foil-wrapped package hidden beneath it.
Inside were three things:
A stack of hundred-dollar bills.
A small black notebook.
And a plastic bag filled with clear pills.
The money and notebook didn't matter.
What mattered was the real objective of this jump—
NZT-48.
And the world Ryan had just entered was called:
Limitless.