Chapter 112 - 112

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….

I actually didn't even try, focusing all my willpower on preparing a cascade of illusions, "Ice Armor," and a strike with Gungnir for anyone who tried to mess with me. But... nothing.

No one tried to attack me, tie me up, or stab me with a ritual dagger... there was absolutely no one around out of those participants in the fifty-odd scenarios of my kidnapping that I managed to imagine in the few moments that passed since the strange portal opened.

After playing the role of a cockroach covered by a slipper for a bit longer, I slightly released my taut nerves and began to pay attention to the surrounding world.

I was lying, apparently, on some poster, its color scheme was painfully colorful. True, for some reason, this poster felt like a stone tile to the touch... And looked like a tile.

A drawn tile.

My spiritual senses, which had gone crazy, were slowly coming to their senses, but they were giving out some kind of mush. Magic, the soul of the planet... even space itself felt somehow wrong around me.

Completely unlike what I was used to... And the tile in front of my face...

Slowly getting to my feet, helping myself with my cane, I cast a glance over the place where I had landed... And was dumbfounded. Around... everything around was drawn! I mean, absolutely everything: the sky, the roof of the house I ended up on, the walls, the people walking on the street below, everything!

It was material, three-dimensional, even realistic... in places. But drawn. Even printed with color printing, I'd say.

The whole space, even the air, was dappled with a multitude of tiny, tiny dots of "paint," which were intangible but noticeable if you looked closely.

And the general contours... Not just brightly painted real objects, but naturally drawn(!!!) 3D models, only not in a 3D format, but a cartoon format.

Prodding the tile under my feet in prostration, I convinced myself that it, meaning, everything around, was real. With the characteristic style of Western cartoons of the nineties and two-thousands, but material and objectively existing.

I. Ended up. In a cartoon!

Just like Bob Hoskins in Who Framed Roger Rabbit...

"Aweso-o-ome!" a moronically happy smile crept onto my face of its own accord.

I didn't know how it happened, had no idea why, didn't even imagine how to get back, but... But I was in a cartoon! In another Universe! Not in the Marvel Cinematic Universe!

I urgently needed to make a Plan! And preferably a wild one! And the first point of the plan will be to understand what exactly this cartoon is... Although...

Walking to the edge of the roof, I peeked onto the neighboring street, where a projector hung on the wall of a building, displaying the highly recognizable head of Spider-Man in his classic red-and-blue suit.

On the one hand, this proved nothing, but something told me I wouldn't be mistaken if I said this cartoon was about Peter Parker, especially since next to the red head in the relief web hung a photo of a blond guy with a corresponding caption underneath... Wait a minute, what do you mean "Spider-Man is dead"?!

…

Yes, as it turned out a little later, he really died. This news was on the front pages of all newspapers.

In this universe, Peter Parker, aged twenty-five, was a very popular and wealthy guy who didn't shy away from making money on his heroism and exploits.

Comic books and TV series about his adventures, which I understood were slightly edited but based on true events, plus all sorts of souvenir merchandise and even a brand of ice cream, albeit an exceptionally creepy-looking one.

He left behind a beloved aunt, an inconsolable widow, and murky circumstances surrounding his death. And something told me that he botched his "last case," which is why I ended up here.

How exactly? Who knows. There were plenty of options. During the battle, something could have gone wrong, or it's a "side effect" of using some superweapon, or something else.

It's still Marvel, even if it's "cartoonish," which means any kind of wildness is possible here. And besides...

"Fshh-h-h," a strange rainbow ripple ran through my body, striking my nerves with pain for a moment. Not fatal, but very unpleasant. And it wasn't the first time during the initial study of the surrounding world.

Through subsequent examination and measurements of the physical-magical field "on the knee," it turned out that my cellular structure is not suitable for this universe.

I was an alien element to it, and therefore it tries to "dissolve" me, something like the immune system's reaction to "illegal" bacteria and viruses getting into the body.

And there is a suspicion that the more time passes in this universe, the more effectively this universe will react to the intruder and get rid of him.

However, what kind of God of Deceit would I be if I couldn't deceive anyone and anything? Unfortunately, a simple illusion won't do for long here, but everyone has their talents.

The gift of a "shapeshifter", that is, changing one's appearance to an animal form, was possessed by many Aesir.

True, it was of little use, because the animal you turn into couldn't take on the properties of your armor and weapons, making you, in fact, more vulnerable, but in a number of cases, the skill was useful.

And Loki, as the recognized Master of Magic, of course, mastered this direction much better than many; after all, it's the same transformation, just of oneself, not objects.

His favorite form, by the way, was a giant serpent.

Yes, yes, that same famous Jormungandr, whom all sorts of Scandinavians and other Nordic Germanic peoples feared to the point of soiling themselves, that was Loki transformed.

And because there's no need to spread dirty rumors!

But that's besides the point. So, close the eyes, catch the "wavelength," an effort of will, and... I change a little, while remaining the same. Except for the fact that now I, too, looked "drawn." And it was funny.

Nevertheless, despite the fact that my dream of escaping the Marvel Cinematic Universe has seemingly been realized, I wasn't going to linger here for long, I have Yuriko, the Combat Hamster, and an un-seduced Storm back there.

This is besides all sorts of friends, buddies, prodigal relatives, a crowd of ankle-biters, and other Frost Giants, whom I kind of promised to take on an interplanetary raiding campaign.

Abandoning them all without warning disgusted me.

Besides, you can't just up and refuse the opportunity to pathetically send an Army of Evil on a conquest!

My old-school heart won't survive such a loss! I must try it at least once; I've been a villain for a thousand years and haven't done it once yet. It's a shame!

The emotion coming from Gungnir expressed full support and approval of my plans.

The spear wanted to dominate and humiliate, and for it to be washed with as much enemy blood as possible, and most importantly, for everyone to see how awesome it is, like, the battle is over, everyone around has their noses in the humus before the King carrying it, and it sparkles...

Ahem... Anyway, things had to be finished first, and generally, it's better to move consciously, not by chance.

And if so, there's no point in messing around, it's not a fact that this whole story started with Parker, but as a starting point, he's no worse than any other.

So, to begin with, we go to his house.

Fortunately, I know where he lived in my world, and here, since he's so hyped up, where he and his friends-family lived must be well known...

…

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