After spending a full ten years in the World of Warcraft, Old Wang found himself transmigrated once again—this time into the Marvel universe. Bearing the legendary artifact, the Heart of Azeroth, imbued with the might of all the Titans of the Pantheon, Old Wang resolved to quietly live as he had in his previous life: a grandmaster monk, skilled in tanking, healing, and damage, undisturbed by the chaos around him. Yet, upon awakening, he discovered to his shock that his golden cheat—his powerful artifact—had vanished without a trace...
Eighteen years ago.
New York, United States. Chinatown. An orphanage.
Thunder and lightning raged outside.
With a blinding flash, the front door was shattered to pieces, and Old Wang, a newborn with a necklace around his neck, landed on the floor, wailing his first cries.
...
...
Ten minutes later.
The elderly director hurried over, umbrella in hand, a bitter expression on her face.
“Lightning strikes wherever it pleases—how am I supposed to find the money to replace the door now… Huh? Which heartless soul would abandon a child in this weather? Not even a swaddling cloth?”
She quickly scooped the naked infant into her arms, sighing. “Another mouth to feed... What am I going to do?”
...
...
That very night.
A shadowy figure crept into the room and took the necklace.
...
...
Eighteen years later.
New York, United States. Chinatown, Apartment 77.
Old Wang sat on a battered sofa, feet propped on an even more decrepit stool, wielding a rolling pin he had used for seven years, sipping a bottle of Erguotou aged for thirteen. He let out a sigh.
“The Titans really can’t be relied upon!”
This was the second time. The second time!
As a perfectly ordinary descendant of China on Earth, he had been swept up in the tide of transmigration, his soul sent to Azeroth by a twist of fate, where he became the apprentice of the legendary monk, Chen Stormstout, embarking on a grand (and somewhat tragic) journey to save Azeroth.
He had out-drunk the competition at B