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Chapter 1: Taxi Driver
🕑 Added 2025-07-21 16:03:24 +0000 UTCIt was just another ordinary day at the Empire State University.
The cafeteria buzzed with chatter and laughter as students gathered in groups around tables. The groups vaguely reflected the various cliques and social hierarchies that existed within the college.
Around one such table sat a group of girls and boys. The girls wore cheerleader outfits one or two sizes too small, while most of the boys donned letterman jackets, indicating that they were athletes and, based on their confidence, were at the top of their game. The group appeared to be led by a tall, large, blonde-haired boy. Each of his gestures and expressions exuded confidence.
The cafeteria's focal point was that table of elites, occupied by those at the top of the college's social hierarchy. The cheerleaders’ smiles were as sharp as their perfectly rehearsed routines, while the boys laughed loudly, their confidence filling the room like an invisible aura.
Most of the boys discreetly glanced at the girls around the table, especially the blonde-headed cheerleader, who was the most beautiful. However, that was as far as it went. None of them had the guts to stare openly; they didn’t want to get their asses kicked by the football team, particularly by the team captain, who was dating the head cheerleader and was very possessive.
Similarly, most girls secretly glanced at the boys around the table. Naturally, many had their eyes on the tall and handsome captain. Yet, like the boys, they didn’t dare to stare openly. Like the football team captain, the head cheerleader was also quite possessive. And sometimes, girls can be meaner than boys.
Of course, if there were the famous, there were also the nerds at the bottom of the hierarchy. Away from the golden glow of popularity, another group sat at the far end of the cafeteria. Hunched over their trays, the nerds spoke in hushed voices, their laughter subdued. They knew better than to attract attention. The wrong kind of gaze could mean trouble.
But there was one exception, a lone boy who sat alone. He was even lower, perhaps at the end. Maybe due to his exceptional intelligence, he was ostracized even by his fellow nerds. He was like an outcast, rejected by his kind. He didn’t seem to care and was already used to such behavior.
He silently jotted down notes, flipping through the pages of his book while absentmindedly picking at his lunch. It was the same predictable routine until today.
Two girls, with beauty no less than the head cheerleader, joined him at his table. One had blonde hair that reached her mid-back, and the other had long red hair reaching her waist. The entire cafeteria suddenly quieted down, seeing that spectacle.
“Hey Peter, would you mind if we joined you?” the blonde girl asked, smiling at the boy.
Peter blinked, his pen pausing over his notebook. His gaze lifted to meet Gwen Stacy’s bright blue eyes, and for a second, his brain stalled. ‘Is this real?’ He quickly shoved down the surprise, forcing himself to appear composed.
“Oh, Gwen, no, please sit,” Peter said, looking up from his book. He was taken aback when his secret crush suddenly talked to him, but he quickly schooled his expression and invited her and her friend to sit.
Gwen thanked him with a smile and sat in front of him. The redhead sat beside her.
“She is Mary Jane, my good friend,” Gwen introduced the redhead beside her.
“Hey Peter, you can call me MJ,” MJ chirped.
“H-hi, MJ,” Peter said, shy from the girl’s charm and outgoing personality.
The boy, the leader sitting at the elite table, frowned and felt a pang of jealousy seeing that. He might be the famous Flash Thompson, the football team star, but he was secretly envious of Peter’s intellect and straight As in the tests, which made him feel inferior. The effortless way Parker aced every test was the opposite of how he barely scraped by. It pissed him off. That's why he liked bullying him so much.
But seeing Gwen, who usually sat with them, and her equally hot friend sitting with the nerd made him feel even more inferior.
“Harry, who is she? Why are they sitting with that nerd?” In a low, growling voice, he asked the only boy among them who was not wearing a letterman jacket.
“I don't know Flash. I think Gwen told me that her friend would also attend university. I think she may be her,” Harry answered nervously in a low voice. Looking at him, no one could tell that he was the son of Norman Osborn, one of the wealthiest businessmen in the USA.
“Useless,” Flash growled at the answer.
He noticed an empty juice box on the table, and his lips curled into a cruel smile. ‘Parker, you don't deserve all this attention,’ Flash thought menacingly, throwing the juice box at Peter’s head. He looked forward to seeing Peter make a fool of himself in front of the girls.
But it was as if Peter had eyes in the back of his head. Just as the juice box reached him, his muscles tensed up. He turned slightly and caught it with astonishing agility, shocking the students in the cafeteria. Peter frowned and glanced at the perpetrator, who looked at him in shock. “Seriously? Grow up, Flash,” Peter said, feeling annoyed.
“What did you say to me, you nerd? You think you’re something special just because you caught that by chance. You’re just a nerd; know your place,” Flash roared. His words infuriated him further. He felt like Peter, who was always at the bottom, was looking down on him, the one at the top. Moreover, his girlfriend, Liz Allan, was glancing at Peter with interest, which only fueled his rage. He rose from his seat and moved toward Peter to confront him.
Peter stood up from his seat and easily dodged the punch. He effortlessly avoided all the punches thrown by Flash. By this time, the students in the cafeteria had crowded around them, too excited to miss the fight. Meanwhile, two boys remained seated at their table near the back.
“Kevin, come, let's go and watch the fight. It's not every day you can see fights like that,” one of the students, a fat guy, said excitedly, his eyes lit with excitement.
Kevin barely glanced at him. “You go, Marko. I’m not interested.”
Marko gave him a disbelieving look. “Really?”
Kevin just nodded, already tuning out the fight.
“Well, your loss,” Marko said, leaving excitedly to watch and record the fight on his phone like the rest of the students—no doubt to upload it later on his LifeDestroyer profile to get views.
Kevin barely spared the fight a glance. He had more significant problems than some dumb college brawl, like the fact that he was in the middle of a crisis himself.
— Kevin —
Note to self: never click a suspicious link again.
Others are either scammed or have their privacy compromised, but here I am, torn from my world and thrown into this messed-up place with uneven power dynamics. One moment, you might encounter some street thug wielding a knife, and the next, a green giant could crash through your building, crushing you in the process.
Fucking Marvel.
I knew there was something suspicious about it when there was no cross icon to close the pop-up with the tagline “ARE YOU TIRED OF YOUR CURRENT LIFE?” in capital and bold letters. I thought, what's the worst that could happen? My bank account was practically a joke, and I had no sensitive data worth stealing.
So, like an idiot, I clicked the only option available: "YES."
Fuck past me.
When I woke up today in an unfamiliar room, alarms rang in my head, yet I remained surprisingly calm. Something compelled me to be relaxed.
Taking advantage of it, I calmly analyzed my surroundings. The room resembled an average teenage boy's space. Honestly, the Captain America poster made my heart race a little. However, I remained optimistic, and the strange force soothed me again, which also helped.
I got up from the bed and walked over to the mirror. I looked different from how I had looked in my previous life. Surprisingly, I don't remember what I looked like, but I didn't resemble the image reflected in the mirror.
I thought for a moment that I might have lost my memories. However, I could recall all the significant events from my previous life. I remember graduating from college, working a dull job, and living my life like a cog in a machine. Monotonous. My only entertainment was substituting myself as the protagonist in various novels, anime, games, and movie worlds.
I remembered clicking on the strange pop-up. Then my computer exploded, a blinding flash, a split second of searing pain, then nothing.
After that, I reincarnated here, judging by the absence of injuries and the fact that I looked at least ten years younger.
I also remembered my name.
“Wait a minute, what's my name?” That's what I shouted when I realized I couldn't remember my name.
The only name I remembered was Kevin Kolt, the name of the person I saw in the mirror. Certain troubling aspects of my memory were erased.
Just as I ‘remembered’ that my name was Kevin Kolt, his memories washed over me like a tide, confirming that I was now him.
From these memories, I realized that I didn't take over a dead body. I was reborn in this world, but my memories only returned to me today.
I sighed in relief that at least I didn't have to look over my shoulder, constantly worrying that whoever killed him might come back to finish the job. Small victories.
But my relief didn't last long, as my worst fear came true. The poster didn't belong to Captain America from Marvel. Captain America was very much real in this world, likely still asleep, but undeniably real. So were Tony Stark, Reed Richards, and Norman Osborn, among others, whom I could search for on the Internet without drawing unwanted attention.
Of all the damn universes to be stuck in, why Marvel? Why not something safe, like Pokemon? At worst, I would get electrocuted. Here? One wrong move and I could be collateral damage in an alien invasion or get snapped out of existence by a purple sociopath.
Fuck Marvel.
Oh well, there was no crying over spilled milk.
My inexplicable ability to stay calm kicked in again, keeping me from freaking out over my objectively ridiculous situation. Marvel Universe? No problem. No safety net? Could be worse. Maybe. Probably.
After getting ready, I left for the university. Since the memories were ultimately mine, settling in was no problem. Marko noted my weird behavior but ignored it. By lunch break, I had combed through all my memories.
Now for the good news.
...There is no good news.
There’s just bad news and even worse news.
The world is not based on a particular timeline, like the MCU, other movies, or even the comics. It is a strange mashup, with something even weirder mixed in.
What's even worse news is that I am an orphan. My mother died during childbirth. My father, a professional criminal, gave up his life in crime to do some honest work after I was born. We weren’t poor, but neither were we rich. But he tried. Unfortunately, he died of illness when I was in high school. It might be my feelings before my memories awakened. I felt a bit sad about him. But that was it.
I completed my schooling with the bit of money he had left, and, with my good grades, I was admitted to Empire State University. However, the money he left was nearly depleted, and I had to look for a job.
However, finding a job is not too hard. My father had a very close friend from his days in crime. He told me to look for him if I got in trouble, which was the only silver lining, if any, in my situation.
In conclusion, I am in a weird fucked mashup of Marvel worlds and an orphan to boot, with almost nothing to my name. I am not some great genius who can use either tech or science to compete with literal gods. I am not some martial arts genius. Until now, my X-gene has not triggered, so I don’t put much hope on it either. I don’t know if I have any mysticism talent, but I won’t keep my hopes high for that.
I have no interest in exposing myself to random chemicals, hoping to get some strange powers, as happened to many Marvel characters. It has a much higher chance of backfiring, leading to severe damage, death, or becoming an abomination, so I will not use myself as a guinea pig for science experiments.
However, if it's tested on enough guinea pigs, then we’ll talk.
I have only two options at hand.
I can just live my life like a normie with my head down and pray that I do not become collateral damage in the fight between the various superheroes and supervillains.
Or I can try to use whatever means I can get and take my fate into my own hands.
I know the second choice is the hardest, but I prefer dying on my own terms.
Instead, I don’t want to die at all. Why consider dying when I can achieve long age, immortality, or even godhood in the world? Using my meta knowledge, I can rule worlds or dimensions with an iron fist, though I don’t know how much of that knowledge will still hold.
Sure, it's crazy, but crazy is better than helpless.
Of course, reality check: I’m a nobody in a world where literal gods roam the streets. No superpowers, no genius intellect, no secret martial arts skills. Yet.
But I’m not planning on staying at the bottom. I will if I have to climb through a mountain of swords to get there.
Long-term goal? Get strong—ridiculously strong—and be able to make my own decisions, not just react to whatever cosmic disaster happens next.
That is the long-term goal, but I also need some short-term goals. Of course, money is the first priority, and then I will find a way to strengthen myself so that I can finally have some self-protection ability.
First, let’s aim to earn enough money to pay for tuition and food, and then I will move on to further plans.
After classes today, I plan to visit my father’s old friend. The guy runs a taxi company, and I can use a part-time job. Driving a taxi may not sound like much, but it’s a good way to learn the city, pick up some street smarts, and maybe get the lay of the land in this weird Marvel mashup.
The fight is already over when I snap out of my thoughts.
Flash is sprawled on the floor, clutching his stomach, his face twisted in humiliation. Someone's going to be crying for his mommy tonight. As if he ever had a chance. The guy’s just a glorified schoolyard bully.
How can he even match Peter Parker, enhanced by the spider bite? He should instead pray that Peter controlled his strength; killing him in one punch is no big deal for Parker.
All because of some stupid jealousy, Mr. Insecure got his ass handed to him by the famous nerd.
Of course, Gwen would want to sit with Peter. After all, last week, during the science tour at Oscorp, he impressed not only Dr. Curt Connors but also Gwen Stacy with his knowledge.
More importantly, that’s when he got bitten by the genetically enhanced spider from one of the labs and finally got his iconic powers.
Peter is still learning to control, as it has only been a weekend since then. But he has done a good job so far, considering Flash still has enough energy to glare at him despite feeling intense pain in his abdomen.
Forget it. What Peter does has nothing to do with me. I don't give a shit about him as long as he doesn’t stand in my path to the top. Unless, of course, I want to trouble him.
—
After the classes ended, I went to the taxi company with Marko.
As I read the words “Bellic Cab Service”, I again felt the urge to curse this world.
As we walked inside, I felt greater dread with every step. Once inside, we were greeted by a pudgy man in his early fifties, dressed in a shirt and pants, who looked all too familiar, even if he looked older.
“Hey, Dad,” Marko greeted him.
“Hey, Uncle Roman,” I added my greeting, calling his all too familiar name.
Roman. Fucking. Bellic.
Remember when I said the world has something even weirder mixed in?
Yeah. Turns out Grand Theft Auto exists here, too.
Roman Bellic didn’t just stay in Liberty City. It turned out he pissed off the wrong people, had to relocate his taxi company to New York, and brought his whole damn family with him. His wife, Mallorie Bardas. His cousin, Niko Bellic. And, of course, his son—Marko Bellic.
The guy standing right next to me.
…What the actual hell?
This small detail completely shattered my understanding of this world. Was this the only crossover, or were more surprises waiting to sucker-punch me?
Oh yeah, there’s also a Los Santos City.
Wait a minute.
If Los Santos exists…
Does that mean Trevor is running around somewhere?
That lunatic is crazier than most of the psychos in Marvel. He can make even Joker look at him with respect.
Wait.
Did I just jinx myself?
“…”
Fuck Marvel.
“Hey, champs. How was college?” Roman asked cheerfully as he turned his attention from his computer.
“Same old, boring,” Marko replied disinterestedly. He didn’t mention the fight; no need to worry his old man.
“Boring is good,” Roman laughed and turned his attention back to the screen.
“Uncle Roman, I have a favor to ask,” I said hesitantly.
Roman looked up again. His face showed a basic idea of what I wanted. Marko also looked at me with curiosity, wondering what I wanted.
“Can I work here part-time?” I asked with a serious face.
Many other part-time jobs are available for students, but most still require a fixed schedule. However, as a taxi driver, I am technically not bound by any specific time and can work at any time. Moreover, although relatively new in New York, Roman's company still has a name due to its decades of business in Liberty City.
“Of course, Kevin, you can work here part-time. But, like I have told you, Desmond was like a brother to me, so you don’t have to feel shy or burdened to ask me. I will help you,” Roman said.
Roman continued as I was about to say something, likely knowing what I was about to say.
“But I still respect your effort to earn a living. It demonstrates maturity. So, what do you say? I'll give you one of my cabs. You can use the company network to accept rides. All the fares and tips you earn are yours, and you’ll only need to cover gas and maintenance. You can use it whenever you want to make some extra cash. And I won’t take no for an answer,” Roman said sternly, though his care was evident in his words.
“Thanks, Uncle Roman,” I said sincerely. Any more words are unnecessary. The terms he gave me are too favorable for me. The employees at his company need to pay at least 50% of the fare. For a money-loving person like him, it speaks volumes about his care.
“No problem, kiddo.” Roman laughed and returned to his screen. I wondered if he was working or simply passing the time.
I said my goodbyes to the father-son duo and went to the back garage to take my new ride. It looked like a regular yellow cab; nothing was different. I opened the door and sat in the driver’s seat.
First time sitting in a taxi driver’s seat. Taxi Driver mission activated.
Mission: Taxi Driver
Description: Complete successful taxi rides
Objective 1: Complete 20 successful taxi rides
Reward: Passive Skill: Driving (Apprentice)
Objective 2: Complete 50 successful taxi rides
Reward: Passive Skill: Driving (Adept)
Objective 3: Complete 100 successful taxi rides
Reward: Passive Skill: Driving (Expert)
Nani, the fuck?!
