The sun blazed overhead, turning the asphalt into a shimmering mirage. Sweat trickled down my neck as I trudged along the road, my sneakers scuffing against the gravel. I let out a sigh, my mind wandering to the countless isekai novels I'd devoured. *Wouldn't it be cool if a truck just yeeted me into another world right now?* A new life, epic powers, maybe a harem—y'know, the usual package.
As if the universe had been eavesdropping, the world blinked. One second, I was squinting against the glare; the next, I was standing in an endless void of pure white. No sound, no smell, just blinding, featureless nothing. I blinked, my heart giving a half-hearted lurch. *Okay, this is either a stroke or I'm about to get isekai'd.*
In front of me stood an old man, his white robes flowing like he'd stepped out of a budget fantasy flick. His beard was long enough to trip over, and his eyes twinkled with that "I'm totally a god" vibe. I glanced at my phone—still in my hand, still at 12% battery—then back at him. No truck. No lightning bolt. Not even a dramatic stab wound. Just… this.
"So," I said, crossing my arms, "no runaway vehicle, no divine smiting. What's the deal, Mr. Pretending-to-Be-a-God?"
The old man raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching into a smirk. "Most people would be panicking right now, boy. Or at least jumping at the chance for a new life."
I snorted. "If you were *actually* God, maybe I'd be doing cartwheels. But you? Nah. You're giving off major devil vibes. Or, like, some bored cosmic bureaucrat."
He chuckled, the sound echoing faintly in the white void. "Perceptive, aren't you? I expected more screaming, less sass."
I shrugged. "I was just walking, minding my own business. No VR headset, no near-death experience. So, what's the scam—I mean, *plan*?"
The old man leaned forward, his amiable face now tinged with intrigue. The white space around us shimmered faintly, like a blank canvas waiting to be painted. "You're here because I need someone to shake things up in another world. A bit of controlled chaos, if you will."
I squinted at him. "You can yank me out of reality without breaking a sweat, but you can't handle a little world-shaking yourself?"
He sighed, rubbing his temples. "It's not that simple. If I meddle directly, the local guardians—think of them as territorial gods—will throw a tantrum. Wars start. Realms collapse. It's a mess."
"And you think *I'm* the guy for this? I'm, like, a C+ human at best."
"Exactly," he said, grinning. "You're weak enough to fly under their radar. We're allowed to sneak pawns into each other's territories. It's in the cosmic rulebook."
I rolled my eyes. "Great. I'm a pawn. So, what's the signing bonus?"
"Three wishes," he said, holding up three fingers. "Plus a random skill, because I like your attitude. Don't waste them asking for omnipotence or infinite growth—those are off the table."
"Random skill first," I said, cutting him off. "Let's see what I'm working with."
Before he could respond, a massive wheel materialized in the void, spinning lazily like a game show prop. Its segments glittered with names: *Iron Man Tech*, *Demon Transformation*, *Angelic Aura*, *Doctor Strange's Sorcery*. I stared, my inner nerd doing backflips. *This is straight out of every isekai ever.*
I gave the wheel a hard spin, watching it blur. It slowed, ticking past *Hulk Strength* and *Spider-Sense*, before landing on… *Doctor Fate's Helmet*.
My stomach dropped. *Oh, hell no.* I knew that helmet. It wasn't just a fancy hat—it was a prison. The Lord of Order, Nabu, liked to hijack bodies and turn wielders into his personal puppets. I shot the old man a look. "You trying to screw me over? This thing's a trap."
He waved a hand dismissively. "Relax. This version's a blank slate. No Nabu, no possession. You get the Helmet of Fate, the Cloak of Destiny, and all the trimmings—just no instant magic mastery. You'll have to figure that part out."
I exhaled, tension easing slightly. *Okay, manageable.* With three wishes, I could make this work. I turned to the old man, my mind racing. "First wish: I want a magic book, bound to me, readable only by me, containing *all* the magic of the DC universe."
He frowned, stroking his beard. "Clever, but you're fishing for too much. I'll give you the book, bound and exclusive, with all DC magic—but you'll need to study it. No instant expertise."
"Fair enough," I said. "Second wish: the ability to travel between worlds, my way, no restrictions."
He nodded. "Done. You'll have full control over your jumps. One-way ticket, though—use it wisely."
"Last wish," I said, grinning. "I want a system. You know, like in litRPGs. Quests, stats, the works."
The old man's face soured. "Absolutely not. That's too much bookkeeping, even for me. Pick something else."
I tapped my chin, then snapped my fingers. "Fine. Give me a skill to analyze everything—like the Sage skill from *That Time I Got Reincarnated as a Slime*. Full breakdown of objects, people, magic, you name it."
He tilted his head, considering. "I can do that. But it won't evolve on its own. You'll need to refine it through practice."
"Deal," I said. "One last thing: can anyone steal these gifts?"
He shook his head. "Not a chance. They're locked to you."
I grinned, feeling a spark of excitement despite the cliché setup. "Alright, old man. Do your cosmic thing and send me off. Time to start my new life."
He raised a hand, and the white void pulsed with light. "Good luck, boy. Try not to break too many worlds."
As the light swallowed me, I couldn't help but think: *Boring start or not, this is gonna be one hell of an adventure.*
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