Magic and Curses

Witchcraft—or magic—was a wondrous force that existed across countless dimensions in the Marvel Universe.

Unlike superpowers gained through mutation, it was an art that required study, constant exploration, and contact with powerful beings from other dimensions in exchange for strange abilities.

For thousands of years, these energies had spread across the world, bringing earth-shattering changes to the entire Earth and even the universe itself. This forbidden knowledge clung to every sorcerer like a curse.

It was a means of harnessing specific mystical energies to connect with powers from other dimensions. In essence, it existed beyond the detectable scientific boundaries dominated by technology. Simply put, it was a mysterious power that science could not decipher.

It could even warp reality, simulate energy, project astral bodies, forge souls, and achieve countless other unimaginable feats.

The most fundamental rule of magic was "equivalent exchange," somewhat similar to the principles followed by alchemists. Zhang Ye did not know much about it, though. He only knew that learning magic in the Marvel Universe was no easy task.

Beyond needing the talent to wield magic, establishing contact with forbidden things was itself an extremely dangerous undertaking.

And in this universe, the person most capable of allowing Zhang Ye to learn such knowledge as safely as possible was undoubtedly Doctor Strange.

Doctor Strange had originally been an outstanding neurosurgeon with exceptional medical talent. But after a car accident left his hands incapable of holding a scalpel for delicate operations, he began trying every possible method to heal them.

In the end, after finding no answer through science, the desperate man could only place his hopes in realms beyond science. He was ultimately chosen by the Ancient One, began studying magic, and used those wondrous powers to protect the entire world.

On the surface, Strange might not have seemed particularly formidable, but in truth, he enjoyed an illustrious reputation throughout Earth’s sorcerer community and even among mages from other dimensions.

If Zhang Ye could have him teach him magic, it would certainly yield twice the result with half the effort.

But Zhang Ye had no intention of doing that.

Doctor Strange’s power was undeniably immense, but his stubborn, arrogant, and somewhat twisted personality was not something Zhang Ye could accept. Besides, Zhang Ye himself was an "invader" from another universe. If Doctor Strange saw him, teaching him magic would be the least of his concerns; it would already be polite of him not to lock Zhang Ye up.

On top of that, Doctor Strange himself was an extremely unstable factor. Zhang Ye did not want too much contact with him right now. After all, Doctor Strange was safest when danger was present, and most dangerous when there was none.

After giving it some thought, Zhang Ye decided to start with the basics. There did not seem to be many sorcerers on Earth, but there were not as few as one might imagine. Besides Doctor Strange, many capable and well-resourced sorcerers were scattered across the world. Having one of them give him a magical introduction would be enough.

But finding those people was far beyond his own abilities. The beings hidden among the streets and in dark sewers, possessing forbidden knowledge, were not something an ordinary person could ever detect.

Fortunately, he had a Kryptonian little sister powerful enough to eavesdrop on the entire Earth.

New York, Hell’s Kitchen.

In a damp, dark alley, a slightly hunched old man moved forward by feel. One of his eyes was blind, and his breathing rasped like a broken bellows, as if he could reach the end of his life at any moment.

The paving stones in the alley were wet. A drainage ditch ran along the wall all the way to the sewers, filled with nauseating wastewater—perhaps because it had rained earlier.

The old man silently made his way through the alley, collecting discarded items from trash cans. There was no shortage of places like this in Hell’s Kitchen. Every night, he could find quite a few useful things here and sell them for a good price before the sun rose the next day.

Fluorescent lamps stood at intervals throughout the alley. Their light was dim and bleak from years of disrepair, but in this pitch-black night, it was enough to illuminate the old man’s path.

At last, the old man arrived beside a dumpster. This was not one of those ordinary round recycling bins, but a garbage collection area made up of several enormous iron containers.

The old man hurried over and began searching carefully. After driving off several rats that had been scavenging for food, he found a few scraps worth selling amid the leftovers and foul-smelling filth.

Perhaps his luck was good today. The old man also found an abandoned lamp, a beautiful object made of a glass casing and a metal cage. Though somewhat damaged, it would surely fetch a good price once repaired.

Holding the lamp in his hands as though it were a treasure, a pleased smile appeared on the old man’s dull, weathered face.

But the next moment, the smile on his face froze.

"Tut, tut, tut. They say the industry is struggling, but I never expected a supernatural being like you to be reduced to picking through garbage."

The old man spun around sharply and saw a black figure in dark clothes and a Bird-Beak Mask suddenly standing beneath the sickly pale light.

Seeing the eerie figure, who he had no idea when had appeared, the old man slowly straightened up while inwardly cursing himself for having lost even his most basic vigilance after so many years.

"John Falsworth, right?" The fluorescent light shone only from the black figure’s waist downward, leaving his upper body concealed in darkness and impossible to make out.

"You have the wrong person." The old man frowned and replied in a hoarse voice.

"Heh, I don’t think I do. At the very least, I can tell whether you are truly ‘human.’ Honestly, I was delighted when I found you, because even I never expected you to still be alive." As he spoke, the black figure slowly stepped forward twice, revealing his entire body beneath the light.

Seeing the bizarre Bird-Beak Mask and the faint glimmer reflected from its lenses, the old man named John Falsworth could not help taking several steps back, his expression growing agitated.

He stretched out a trembling hand, trying to stop the other person from approaching, while speaking in a similarly trembling voice.

"What do you want? I-I retired long ago. I don’t care what freak organization in bizarre costumes you come from, but I swear I washed my hands of it all. I’ve spent years living under an assumed name, and I absolutely haven’t done anything bad!"