This was, without a doubt, the best news Bella had received so far.
In a world like this, overflowing with danger, one thing it certainly didn't lack was life. Especially in Marvel—villains were everywhere. And to Bella, most of them were just trash mobs. Easy experience. If they needed to be killed to gain strength, then so be it. No hesitation. No regrets.
She wasn't going to play hero like the neighborly grandpa in red and blue tights or that annoyingly noble alien in a cape. No, her vibe leaned more toward a certain skull-shirted antihero. Uncle Punisher's approach? Now that she could respect.
And anyway, beyond Earth's criminals, there were other galactic threats—Chitauri, Outriders, Zerg-like swarms. The Marvel Universe was practically a buffet of living targets.
Assuming her panel had no upper limit, Bella was confident. She could become unstoppable.
After experimenting with the panel for the first time, Bella found herself famished—ravenously so. She had devoured the entire steamed fish and all four crabs, yet still felt the gnawing hunger in her belly.
To satisfy her craving, she cooked up an additional plate of scrambled eggs with tomatoes, a stir-fried dish of cabbage, and polished off four to five bowls of steaming rice.
The appetite was worrying. If not for the insurance money from her late father, she might have been living off instant noodles.
Still, as someone who genuinely loved food, having a monstrous appetite wasn't all bad. The real problem was sustainability.
What if I run out of funds before I become strong enough?
She worried about it for a second… then brushed it off.
When the money's gone, I'll find more. It's Marvel—there are idiots with more money than sense everywhere. New York, here I come.
That night, well past ten o'clock, she lay in bed with excitement still coursing through her.
"Maybe I should work at a slaughterhouse?" she muttered, smirking. "Earn money and level up... though they might start calling me Miss Butcher."
The thought made her laugh softly before she drifted off.
A month passed, quietly and steadily.
Bella's transformation stayed under wraps.
In Fox Town—a small, relatively remote community outside New Orleans—news traveled fast. With a population of around 10,000, anything out of the ordinary quickly became gossip material. The sudden death of Bella's father had been a hot topic.
Many residents pitied the poor girl. A beautiful young woman, now orphaned—such a tragedy.
Especially the teenage boys. They watched her from afar, assuming she was grieving too deeply to leave the house. She rarely went out, save for groceries or necessities. Her school granted her a long leave. Everyone assumed it was because of her father's passing.
No one knew the truth. No one knew her father had been an abusive addict.
He had hidden his vices well from the public, pretending to be a hardworking single father. And Bella? She kept up appearances.
In the entire month, her only public outing was a stroll with Angie through the flower park.
No one could guess what changes had taken place inside her.
Catherine Isa Bella
Strength: F+
Stamina: C+
Agility: F+
Magic: F+
Mental Power: D-
Luck: C
Noble Phantasm: None
Riding: D+
Intuition: D+
Charisma: A
The improvements were real.
All of her lower stats had inched upward. F- to F+, with mental power jumping to D-. Her charisma, as always, remained an A—after all, she was still the belle of Fox Town.
Her only complaint?
Luck hadn't budged.
No lottery wins. No surprise benefactors. Bella sighed every time she looked at that stubborn "C".
She ran a few experiments to test her growth. After her strength rose to F+, she tried lifting the wardrobe in her bedroom—barely broke a sweat. Her speed had increased dramatically too. On a quiet night, she sprinted full-tilt and estimated she was moving at over 120 kilometers per hour.
That's more than 30 meters per second. Not bad for someone who used to get winded jogging across campus.
Vertical leap? Dozens of meters without effort. Using magic as a boost, she was sure she could jump over a ten-story building.
Her skin had hardened too. A kitchen knife barely left a mark. Fruit knives? Useless.
Magic-enhanced flesh, apparently.
At this point, she was beyond ordinary humans. Even Captain America in his prime probably couldn't match her.
But there was a price.
A steep one.
To maintain her rapid growth, she killed and consumed three live fish and ten crabs daily. That was roughly $400 a day.
In contrast, the average family of three in Fox Town spent less than $50 a day.
Her expenses were eight times that.
And she couldn't even buy that much locally—too risky. Her popularity in town meant someone would notice. Suspicion could spread.
So, she borrowed Angie's car, drove over ten kilometers to New Orleans, and shopped discreetly at the farmer's market there.
Food alone wasn't the issue. Her new physique required absurd amounts of energy. If she didn't keep up, she felt sluggish.
In just thirty days, she'd burned through over $13,000 of the $15,000 living expenses set aside for her until she turned eighteen.
The rest? Locked in a trust. She couldn't touch it until she reached adulthood. Thanks, deadbeat dad.
She now had less than $2,000 to last an entire year.
Yet Bella didn't panic.
Instead, she spent her last few hundred on something important.
A black suit.
A proper uniform.
Because if she was going to be a superhero who "robbed the rich to feed the poor," she needed to look the part.
Everyone had a look—except maybe that green shirtless rage monster. But Bella? She had style.
More importantly, she didn't want anyone to recognize her.
The black suit wasn't the final version of her costume—just something to get started.
That night, the town of Fox was quiet.
The moon was hidden behind thick clouds, casting the streets in complete darkness.
Most houses had gone dark by 9 p.m., as families prepared for early work and school the next day.
Bella's house looked the same—still, peaceful.
But inside, her eyes were open.
She lay on her bed, expression tense, eyes locked on the darkened window.
"They're getting bolder," she whispered. "Looks like something's going down soon."
Not sensing any surveillance, she got up and walked to her wardrobe.
Her closet, like everything else in her room, was neatly arranged. Whether it was her or the predecessor, Bella's clothes were folded with care. A tidy goddess couldn't have a messy bedroom, after all.
If she couldn't be a male god, she'd become a goddess instead.
She selected a set of sleek black clothes and quietly changed out of her pajamas. Without turning on the lights, she could still see perfectly. Her vision had sharpened with her strength.
In the mirror inside the closet door, a different girl stared back—elegant, poised, dangerous.
Even Bella found herself captivated by the reflection.
No wonder those little boys in town couldn't stop thinking about her.