The moment Richard realized he was in the Marvel Universe, a sense of urgency gripped his heart.
According to the timeline, there were only a dozen or so years left before Thanos arrived on Earth. He had to become stronger—fast.
A magic cottage simply wouldn't cut it.
He needed—at minimum—a floating city.
That old fear from his bloodline—insufficient firepower anxiety—flared up again.
Staring at the $173,367 he'd seized from the cartel, Richard sighed. It was a decent start, but building a floating city? Even in his old world of Mothrella, the most basic model cost at least 10 billion gold shields, and the Arcane Council's mega-cities could easily run into the trillions.
Here, in this reality? Factoring in materials, technology, and infrastructure, it would probably take hundreds of billions in US dollars, if not more.
Still, there was hope.
America had the tech. It had the productivity. If anyone could build one, it would be here.
Richard began gathering supplies.
He was still an undocumented ghost as far as this world was concerned—but thanks to Suggestion spells, he had little trouble acquiring everything he needed. Even firearms.
He even took a crash course at a gun shop. Compared to spellcasting, guns were cheap, accessible, and fast.
Casting a single Arcane Missile took seconds. In that same time, a trained shooter could empty an entire clip.
---
Over the next few days, Richard stockpiled weapons, tools, and food, preparing to return to the old district.
In his absence, chaos had erupted.
The Hungry Wolves gang had suffered serious losses—and they were furious. Believing a rival gang had ambushed them, they launched a wave of retaliatory strikes. Several blocks descended into open turf war.
The few NYPD phone lines serving Brooklyn's edge had been jammed nonstop. But they were under-resourced—clean-up usually came after the mess, not before.
Richard, meanwhile, returned with a plan to eliminate the Hungry Wolves entirely.
Gangs like them always had deep pockets. Removing them was doing the city a favor—and pocketing their assets would be a perfectly fair reward for his heroic intervention.
He was pondering the best way to move in when suddenly—a gorgeous blonde woman burst from the alley ahead, sprinting toward him, eyes wide with panic.
She was being chased.
Before she could escape, two burly men stepped out from the crossroad ahead, cutting her off.
She turned to run—only to find more thugs closing in from behind.
Their bulging jackets made it clear they were carrying.
Local pedestrians took one look and scattered like startled birds. They clearly knew who these men were.
"Bitch! Run all you want—see where it gets you!" the lead thug sneered. "Grab her!"
At his command, four enforcers surged forward.
"Help me! They're trying to kidnap me!" the blonde shouted to the only person nearby who hadn't fled—Richard.
The gang leader turned and glared at him, flashing his gun in a clear threat.
"This is Hungry Wolves business. Walk away while you can."
He motioned to his men to drag the woman toward a nearby vehicle.
She thrashed wildly.
"Please! Help me—don't let them take me!"
But there was no way she could overpower four grown men.
Just as she was about to be shoved into the van, a wave of eerie, violet light surged from her body.
It slithered through the air like seductive serpents, instantly wrapping around the gangsters within a three-meter radius.
They froze.
Their expressions shifted—blissful, entranced—until their eyes rolled back and their bodies crumpled like wet rags.
Their life force had been drained in seconds.
The woman herself collapsed against the car door, exhausted.
"Isaac? Jim? What the hell?!" the gang leader shouted, panicked. "What did you do to them?! What are you?!"
Receiving no reply, he raised his gun in raw instinct and aimed it at her.
"You with the Hungry Wolves?"
A voice rang out beside him.
He turned just in time to see a steel pipe descending toward his face.
CRACK.
Blood sprayed. His body flew into the alley wall and slumped down, unmoving.
Richard calmly flicked the blood from the pipe and pocketed the handgun. Then, he turned to the blonde, who was still recovering.
"You okay?"
"Did I... do all that?" she asked, stunned.
"Who else would've done it?" Richard replied. "This area isn't safe. Planning to stay?"
"No! I'll come with you!" she said quickly, staggering upright.
Richard reached out to steady her—only for her to suddenly wrap both arms around his own, pressing her full chest against him.
A sweet, intoxicating scent hit his nose.
His blood surged. One word flashed through his mind:
Retreat.
---
Back in a dim apartment, Richard had barely shut the door when the woman—Katherine—pounced on him.
"Miss Katherine, you need to learn to control your bloodline, not be controlled by it—mmph!"
Before he could finish, she tackled him to the floor.
"I know, but I can't help it!" she whispered hotly. "You smell incredible. I'm drawn to you. I can't resist it anymore."
"We just met—wait, damn it, my bloodline!"
Richard finally realized: his draconic bloodline was a magnet to her kind.
She was a Vanshee Banshee—a rare, upper-tier subspecies of banshee who looked indistinguishable from human women and were always stunningly beautiful.
But intimacy with them came at a price.
No—stop pulling on my robe!
Her fingers worked frantically, tearing at his clothes until his dragonic rod sprang free, thick and eager. Katherine gulped at the sight, her liquid spilling through her thighs. With a growl, she yanked the fabric aside, exposing her glistening flower dripping with liquid.
Richard groaned as she straddled him, her wet flower pressing against his rod. "Katherine, we shouldn–"
"I cant take it anymore," she gasped, sinking down onto him in one smooth motion.
His rod disappeared into her tight flower, and she threw her head back with a moan. Her walls clenched around him as she began to ride him with desperate hunger. Richard's hands gripped her hips, torn between pushing her away and pulling her even more deeper.
"Ugh... too good," he gritted out, his control saying bye-bye.
Katherine's nails dug into his chest as she pushed faster, her breath coming in ragged pants as she moaned "Anghhhh~!"
A shudder ran through him as her flower bud devoured his thick rod, drawing him closer to the edge. With a growl, he flipped her onto her back, driving into her with dragonic force.
"I-I'm c*mm– Anghhh~!!"
She arched beneath him, moaning out as pleasure overtook her. A transparent liquid burst out of her flower as her moan reverberated across the room.
Richard gripped her hips as he thrust even more harder, ignoring her outburst and sending her directly to heavens!
"Angghh~!!"
"Wa-wait I'm still sens—anghh~!"
Not caring about anything right now, he felt an electric surge on his whole body as he uncontrollaby thrust his rock-hard rod on katherine's sensitive flower. Making the latter moan even harder with each thrust.
Not long after, Richard spilled his white liquid inside Katherine's wet cave. Thrusting in deeply as he left her mark on her insides.
Panting, he collapsed beside her, darkness slowly overtaking his consciousness.
---
It was unclear how much time passed.
Then came the system notifications:
[Magic reserves detected at reduced capacity.]
[Vitality depletion detected.]
[Minor life force drainage detected.]
As expected—banshees had a unique physiology that allowed them to absorb male vitality, physical strength, and in some cases, magic itself.
Ordinary men without special constitutions or powers would be drained to death.
Vanshee banshees were even more potent than average. Richard had raised both banshees and succubi as servants before—compared to fragile humans, long-lived beings like these were more durable, didn't age out, and didn't require replacement every few years.
Not because he liked them more.
But because they were more efficient.
Really.
---
The well-fed Katherine lay beside him, looking utterly content.
"Richard... that was the most satisfying experience of my life. My ex-boyfriends couldn't even survive a kiss before dropping dead. I've always been afraid of hurting someone... until I met you. You must be heaven-sent."
"Heaven didn't send me. Heaven would've thrown you on a pyre," Richard muttered. "You're a Vanshee Banshee. Any normal guy getting close to you is basically asking to die."
"Your bloodline was just activated. You must learn to control it. Otherwise, even standing near you could drain someone's life force."
Vanshee banshees were a rare breed. Before their bloodline awakened, they lived like normal humans. But after activation, their charm and physical allure skyrocketed—and their power surged.
The downside? During intimacy, they'd involuntarily drain life energy from their partners. If the target wasn't strong enough, they'd die—with a smile on their face.
No pain. Only bliss. Too much bliss.
It was why thrill-seekers in ancient times, especially nobles, still pursued them—despite the risks.
Unsurprisingly, Vanshee banshees were instinctively drawn to powerful partners.
To them, a dragon-blooded mage like Richard was irresistible—like a pile of gold to an actual dragon.
"Alright," Richard sighed, pulling on his robe. "Get dressed, grab some food, and we'll talk more later. We've got a lot to fix."
His legs still wobbled. With his powers depleted and this banshee in full activation mode, the drain had been more than expected.
Katherine leaned in, kissed his cheek, and finally stood—completely unbothered by how much of her body was still on display.
He had to admit… top-tier quality.
Still young, but the potential? Easily rivaling a succubus.
Even more rare, Vanshee banshees could have children with humans—and any daughters would almost certainly inherit the bloodline.
"Richard... why did I kill those men?" she asked softly.
"Your bloodline," he replied. "It awakened, and when that happens, power sometimes bursts out uncontrollably. Those guys? You drained their life force. Gone."
"Vanshee banshees have innate charm magic. They can enthrall men and gain massive boosts to strength, dexterity, and constitution. They're extraordinary beings. They can absorb energy and life essence to grow stronger."
Katherine's face paled.
She'd grown up human. Been educated as one. She couldn't stomach seeing others as mere food.
"Then only absorb scumbags," Richard said gently. "Gangers, thugs—the ones who deserve it. And if you really can't bring yourself to do it... I'll help you."
He smiled.
With his level of vitality, even small leaks were negligible. Magic could substitute as well. It wouldn't hurt him in the slightest.
After all, the power gap between them was still massive.