Chapter – 32 50-50
Charlie vaguely remembered reading the Captain America Civil War comics from Marvel. In that story arc, when the Superhero Registration Act was enforced to collect all superhero information, it was revealed that over 3,000 registered superheroes were active in New York alone. This didn't even take into account the countless other Marvel superheroes scattered across the globe or the growing numbers of Inhumans and mutant heroes.
[TL Note - I don't wanna change the number just in case it is actually true, but... something's fishy]
And that was just Marvel's world.
When you factor in the sheer number of heroes from the DC universe next door, the numbers become mind-boggling. From iconic characters to obscure and little-known ones, the hero pool is vast and deep, filled with both legendary figures and those who have faded into obscurity.
As Charlie considered this, the excitement he had felt about his recent draws began to dissipate. It was like being forced to wade through an entire encyclopedia when he had been eager for a thrilling adventure.
He had just drained all his remaining Hero Points in one go, hoping for something exceptional. Instead, two heroes appeared on his screen—both utterly useless in the grand scheme of things. To add to his frustration, he received a piece of equipment during the process: Hawkeye's wrist guard. It seemed like a nice piece of gear, but without the right hero to wield it, it was practically useless.
The moment his points hit zero, Charlie, who had felt so rich just moments ago, was now back at square one. He had thrown over 2,400 points into the system, and all he had to show for it was a vague sense of regret and the haunting memory of countless card games that had left him feeling just as empty.
But Charlie wasn't the type to give up so easily. After all, yesterday's mission had not only earned him points but also rewarded him with a Hero Point coupon. This coupon could be exchanged for eight single-draw opportunities—a last chance to change his luck.
A great man once said that a hero can't run away from their destiny.
Another wise man declared that it's pointless to hold onto something when it should be used.
"I must draw the card immediately!" Charlie thought, his heart pounding with anticipation as he prepared for his final draw.
When the penultimate draw was made, a burst of radiant light filled the screen. Slowly, a solid blue figure emerged from the light, standing tall and proud in the center of the screen. The character was dressed in a tight blue uniform, with a white letter "A" emblazoned on the forehead of his helmet. On either side of the helmet were small, white wings.
It was none other than Captain America—Marvel's iconic Avenger.
Captain America. The name alone carried weight, evoking images of heroism, sacrifice, and leadership. But to Charlie, what mattered more than the name was the character's abilities and how they would perform in the game.
The heroes he had drawn before were no match for the likes of Batman; they were outclassed in almost every way. But Captain America was different. While Cap might lack Batman's vast wealth and advanced technological gadgets, he more than made up for it with his physical prowess.
Batman was, after all, just a mortal—a man at the peak of human conditioning, but still human. Captain America, on the other hand, was a super-soldier.
As the embodiment of the super-soldier concept in American comics, Captain America possessed physical abilities that far surpassed the limits of ordinary humans. The exact extent of his powers had always been a topic of debate among comic book fans.
The super-soldier serum that gave Captain America his abilities was shrouded in mystery and idealism. It was said that the serum responded to the heart and will of the injector, enhancing good qualities in good people and worsening traits in those who were bad. It reflected the inner strength and character of the individual in their physical form.
This abstract nature of the serum led to some wildly varying depictions of Cap's abilities. Officially, he was said to be able to bench press 1,200 pounds—a staggering 545 kilograms.
But comic book logic is notoriously flexible. For the writers of American comics, consistency isn't always a priority.
So, while one story might show Captain America struggling against a formidable foe like Crossbones, another might depict him stopping a helicopter with his bare hands. In yet another tale, he might be seen going toe-to-toe with Thanos, one of the most powerful beings in the Marvel Universe.
In the world of comics, there's a joke about Kakashi from Naruto's Konoha Village being called the "50-50 guy," meaning that no matter how strong or weak his opponent, Kakashi always seems to fight them on even terms. Captain America had a similar reputation—his strength seemed to adjust to match that of his opponent.
Charlie couldn't help but wonder if this idealistic, passive ability could apply to the game characters as well.
In the past, he might have dismissed such metaphysical notions as pure fantasy. But after last night's intense battle, he wasn't so sure anymore. When he controlled Batman during the fight, he had witnessed the character's incredible willpower as Batman resisted the infection. There was even a poignant moment when Batman experienced a flashback to the night his parents were murdered.
This led Charlie to a startling realization: the characters he controlled in the game had more than just their abilities—they had a piece of their original spirit as well.
While it was clear that these game characters lacked true consciousness, they were far from mindless puppets. They followed Charlie's commands without question, whether it was logging out on command or charging into battle without hesitation—even if it meant certain death.
Yet, they weren't completely devoid of individuality either. Batman's reaction to the infection, the display of his superhuman willpower, suggested that there was something more at play.
Charlie began to think that the truth lay somewhere in between.
The heroes in the game were indeed just virtual characters, but they were imbued with more than just their powers and equipment. They carried with them their background, their spirit, and the core elements that made them who they were in their respective universes. For example, Batman's strict no-kill policy, his unresolved grief over his parents' deaths, and his extraordinary willpower were all integral parts of his character. These elements were perfectly preserved in the game.
It was almost as if the game characters were projections of the original superheroes from another world. They had all the characteristics of their real-world counterparts—from their abilities to their personalities—but they remained under the control of the player.
Players like Charlie drew characters from the card pool, gaining the ability to control these heroes in various missions. However, the players didn't embody these characters; they were more like commanders, directing the heroes from behind the scenes.
If Captain America could bring his 50-50 passive ability into the game, that would be a significant advantage. But even without it, his basic physical capabilities were top-notch. Combined with his world-class combat skills—skills that made him one of the best fighters in the Marvel universe—he was more than equipped to handle the infected foes Charlie would face.
Another defining feature of Captain America was, of course, his iconic vibranium shield.
This shield was a marvel of advanced technology, exclusive to the Marvel universe. While it might look like a simple star-spangled shield, it was anything but. The shield was nearly indestructible and had the unique ability to absorb kinetic energy. Cap had used this shield to block grenades, RPGs, and all manner of attacks, emerging unscathed from situations that would have obliterated anyone else.
Though in Avengers: Endgame, Thanos shattered the shield with a few powerful strikes, this did little to diminish the artifact's legendary status.
Drawing Captain America made Charlie feel more balanced. This was the first serious supercharacter he had managed to pull from the card pool, and it was a significant victory.
There were still two chances left to draw cards.
Now feeling more at ease, Charlie's mindset had shifted. The remaining two draws were taken with a sense of calm resignation; he didn't expect much from them anymore.
The next draw resulted in a simple "Thank you for participating" message, a typical result for most players.
But the final draw brought a surprising flash of light, revealing a large object in the center of the screen.
Charlie stared in disbelief.
Was that... the Bat-Signal?
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