Judging by the few signs, I ended up in Central Park in New York City. It's like a huge green lung of the city. The park turned out to be incredibly large, and I had been walking along the path for half an hour, yet it still didn't seem to end.
My legs were starting to feel really shaky, so I decided I'd walked far enough from the incident. I sat down on the first bench I found, stretched out my legs, and stared blankly at the sky for a few minutes.
My mouth felt dry, and I could really go for a drink of water. Hmm, maybe now is the time to take inventory? I placed the heavy, bulky backpack on my knees and tried to open it. But handling the zipper in heavy winter gloves turned out to be quite the challenge, so I gave up and took them off. I'll need to remember to find something lighter; I could almost cook in these!
The backpack offered a whole bunch of random junk. Why the hell did the previous owner of this body have a full set of winter clothes? It's the middle of summer, or am I mistaken? Or maybe it's just a sunny, warm day? But, okay, whatever.
I pulled out a small cosmetic bag and stared for a long time at the lipsticks, mascaras, pencils, foundations, and other crap. What the hell? Did I really end up in a guy's body? Maybe Rogue just chopped off her hair? I ran my hand down my pants and was relieved to find my dick still there.
Phew, at least here I'm not being set up!
But then, what's the deal? Why the hell does a healthy young guy carry such a huge cosmetic bag? He's not a spy or a big theater actor! My gaze landed on the hands freed from the gloves.
"Shit," I groaned, feeling an urge to smoke.
Unfortunately, a quick scan revealed that there were no cigarettes—of any kind—in the bag. I had to reluctantly bring my trembling hand to my eyes and look at the clear-coated nails. Things had really gone downhill. I'd rather have ended up in a woman's body than in a damn metrosexual!
I pulled a small mirror from the cosmetic bag and carefully examined my face. There was definitely some makeup and other stuff on it, as evidenced by the perfectly plucked eyebrows and the long, thick lashes, but at least my lips weren't painted, and that was a plus! Overall, it looked bad, but not as critically bad as I'd imagined.
I complained to myself for a while, but mostly kept it internal, as I didn't want to scare off the rare passing girls. Well, we're seasoned transplants, hardened people, not so easily taken down! We've fought through worse!
Alright, so what if the local guys paint their nails and do their lashes? Who cares? I've ended up in the body of a mutant who can't touch others—could be worse. I could've ended up as some Beast or a rock creature from the Fantastic Four!
In fact, Archie didn't lie about one thing—my potential abilities really are imbalanced on their own! That's good, means I don't have to worry too much about freaks I'll encounter along the way. Though, I don't want to think too far ahead yet. Global plans can wait for later; for now, it's more important to understand what resources I have at the moment and where I'm going to sleep tonight.
I opened my wallet and sadly stared at the empty compartments. I could probably scrape together a few bucks, but nothing to count on for more than that. Well, I think I've got the general picture. It seems like I was dumped in a time when the first signs of powers made the previous guy who owned this body run away from home, fearing persecution of mutants. I think it's for the best, though—at least I can cut all ties with relatives and not worry about them. Otherwise, I'd have to pretend to be someone I'm not.
So, what do I have, in the end?
No money, just winter clothes, half a pack of chips, and half a bottle of still water. Oops, the water bottle is already empty. I also found a dead button phone and an ID. According to the documents, I've already reached the age of consent, so I could easily engage in all sorts of indecencies and have no legal issues.
By the way, I remember Rogue's original name was Anna Maria. In my case, the ID clearly stated that I'm none other than Hanan Marius Carlyle!
The surname made me burst out laughing! Whoa, really? A vampire-sounding name, that's something! With that, I'd have no shame hanging out in the vampire community, haha!
If I'm serious, though, I'm not going to go by Hanan. I can tolerate the second name, though. So it's decided: I'm Marius now. Still sounds too much like a vampire, but if I introduce myself without the surname, Blade shouldn't come after me.
Anyway, first priority: get at least a few dozen bucks and find a place to crash. Thinking too much won't help the situation. I shoved the cosmetic bag and the other stuff back into the backpack, stood up from the bench, and headed for the park exit.
A couple of girls I met on the way happily agreed to answer a few questions, and that's how I learned about the nearest flea market. According to them, the closest one was in Hell's Kitchen. Fortunately, I'm not so out of my mind that I'd walk around a place like that! That's one hell of a criminal area!
I decided to walk a bit further, and I accidentally wandered into the Korean district, or as they called it here, Ki-Town. The place turned out to be unusually orderly, clean, and cultured. Not that I'm biased against Koreans, but I expected to see dog meat shawarma or cockroaches sold as snacks on every corner.
In reality, the streets were full of well-dressed workers, and while most of them were of Asian descent, there were plenty of others, too. It felt like a business district, though the sight of the characteristic characters made my eyes a little dizzy.
After crossing Ki-Town, I quickly ended up at the Chelsea flea market. I was greeted by a tiny little square hidden between skyscrapers and a parking lot. Hmm, is this really what I'm looking for? In any case, I'd almost killed my legs getting here on foot, so it's worth checking out.
Those girls had suggested taking the subway, but I suspected I wouldn't have enough money for the fare. So, I had to walk. One good thing: during my little journey, I managed to get a better feel for the city I'd ended up in.
The streets were practically full of women. Half of them preferred short hairstyles and men's outfits. Even the girls in Ki-Town were wearing more business suits than skirts and heels!
No matter how hard I looked, fast food victims were a rare sight. Most people had pretty fit and athletic bodies, and it seemed like they added a little bit of super soldier serum to the drinking water here, or something!
Men were much less common, and it was better that way. They could be roughly divided into two categories: chubby guys and transvestites. The former were slightly overweight guys with minimal makeup on their faces, and the latter... well, you know! Dressed in what looked like dresses, covered in jewelry, pierced ears, and a ton of makeup. Brrr!
What's worse is that each of these guys was surrounded by at least a couple of girls who were literally taking care of their... half-men! The sight made me shudder, and I kept myself under control thanks to my experience as a seasoned transplant.
My stomach betrayed me, growling loudly, and I remembered I'd eaten half a pack of chips about two hours ago. I gathered my thoughts, tried to forget the disturbing picture of bearded guys in dresses, and walked toward the market.
Although the flea market was basically out in the open, it was almost completely covered by large white umbrellas. To be honest, it was surrounded by a fence from the street and road!
At the entrance, I was greeted by a female security guard, casually lounging on a chair in the shade, staring at her smartphone screen.
"The entrance fee is a dollar," she said in a bored voice without looking up, clearly noticing that the new visitor was hesitating.
"Seriously?" I said, barely hiding my surprise. "You charge for entry to the flea market?"
"We have a cultural...," she started to explain but suddenly stopped, lifting her gaze to me. The girl jumped to her feet, and it turned out she was two heads taller than me. "Ha! S-sorry, dear! Of course, the entrance is free for guys!"
When a two-meter-tall, muscular woman starts stumbling in front of you like a middle school graduate, it's quite a nice feeling. But wait a second! What the hell? The entrance is free for guys? Really?
While I was trying to process this new reality, the girl probably thought I was upset or something.
"Please don't cry!" she pleaded. "I didn't mean to! I just didn't see who was coming! Please don't be mad! How about... how about I buy you some ice cream or whatever you like?"
Now she's trying to bribe me with sweets? Archie! You damn whale! Where the hell did you send me?
Forcing myself to calm down, as a seasoned transplant, I reminded myself to fit into local realities. I put on a strained smile and said:
"Thanks, but I don't need anything. Just tell me, can I walk into your market and sell a few things?"
Ideally, I should have blended into society and accepted the girl's apology, so I wouldn't stand out. But hey, I'm on vacation, right? I can do whatever I want, and no one can stop me! Hmm, that idea's tempting! Maybe I'll become a villain and mess up Archie's plans for this little world?
"Well, you'll need permission from the administration and pay for the space," she said, playfully, or at least trying to sound playful. "But for you, handsome, I'll make an exception! The twelfth stall is empty today; you can set up there. If anyone asks, your permission is with me."
No, I'm not rushing into bold plans. For now, I have to play the good guy, and honestly, I don't really know how to destroy worlds. Plus, it's not my thing.
"Okay," I nodded, "Then I'll go?"
"Of course, handsome!" she winked at me.