Marvel Ultimate Gacha

Michael suddenly paused, spotting two sisters working at a small café. He paused, observing them closely.

"These two sisters…" he trailed off, recalling their significance. "They were witches featured in the first episode of The Originals. The elder sister ended up dying after using magic to confirm that Hayley was pregnant with Klaus's daughter."

Michael frowned, his thoughts shifting to the events that followed.

"And she was pregnant, which led to the start of The Originals drama," he muttered under his breath, still watching the sisters from a distance.

He studied them carefully, contemplating his next move.

"I can either wait for the elder one to die and have the younger sister assist me, or simply help them directly," Michael mumbled, pacing back and forth. Over the next few days, he scoured all of New Orleans, desperately searching for a medium but never managed to find one.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" he yelled in frustration as he sat at the edge of a bridge, staring at the beautiful sunset. "Damn it, what do I do?" he muttered, trying to calm his mind.

"Hey, you!" a voice called out, snapping him out of his thoughts.

Michael turned, confused. "Hey, you! Yes, you sitting on the edge. Don't jump or something!"

He blinked, stunned, and stood up. "You… can see me?" he asked cautiously.

The blonde woman standing across from him crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. "Of course, I can. What are you doing up there, anyway?" she asked nonchalantly.

Michael leaned back, trying to process her presence.

Michael smiled, relieved. "Michael White. May I have the pleasure of knowing your name?" he asked, extending a hand toward her.

She chuckled, shaking her head at his formality. "That's a new way to ask someone on a date," she teased before taking his hand. "Camille O'Connell," she said with a small smile.

Michael blinked in surprise, the name instantly ringing a bell. "Ah, so it's you," he muttered.

Camille raised an eyebrow, curious. "Do you know me?"

"Personally, no. By reputation? Yes," Michael replied with a smirk, gesturing for them to walk.

"Maybe we should walk and talk—it's getting late," he added politely.

"Of course," Camille agreed as they strolled down the street.

"So, what rumors have you heard about me?" she asked, glancing sideways at him.

Michael grinned. "Just the usual: a smart and stunning bartender with a talent for helping others," he said smoothly.

She giggled, shaking her head. "Is that it? Sounds like this little rumor is getting out of hand," she teased.

"Well, it's true. People admire beautiful things, but it takes a lot of courage to actually talk to them," Michael said with a charming smile.

Camille stopped walking and looked directly at him. "Now, that's a great way to ask someone on a date," she said, leaning in close.

Michael smirked. "So, do I pass?" he asked confidently.

Camille leaned in, brushing her lips lightly against his in a playful peck. "Tomorrow at the bar I work at. Let's have a proper date," she said with a grin, walking away.

Michael nodded, watching her go. "Well, I guess I just got lucky," he mumbled to himself, a small smile forming on his lips as he turned to leave.

"Now, I just need to secure a witch," Michael mumbled as he sat down on a nearby bench, leaning back and closing his eyes. He decided to wait for time to pass, though it felt agonizingly slow.

Time always seemed to crawl when you had nothing to do—a fact Michael was experiencing firsthand. As a spirit, he didn't even have the luxury of sleep. He simply sat there, staring idly ahead. Occasionally, people passed by, but none paid him any attention, forcing him to move aside when they got too close.

Just as he was beginning to lose himself in thought, he noticed a couple entering the park. They walked hand in hand, laughing softly, before suddenly stopping near a tree. To Michael's surprise—and mild irritation—they began to make out right in the middle of the park.

Michael stared at the couple in disbelief as they continued making out. He shook his head, feeling slightly uncomfortable. "Fuck, they sure have a weird fetish," he muttered under his breath, trying to push the unsettling sight out of his mind.

With a sigh, he decided to move on. "I'll just head to the bar," he mumbled to himself.

He made his way through the streets, finally reaching the bar. As he entered, the familiar warmth of the dimly lit room greeted him. He walked up to an empty table and sat down. "I can't even ask for a drink," he mumbled.

"Wait! Now that I think of it, I never had even drunk in my life—or any life," Michael mumbled, sitting back in his chair. The bar was still, as he just sat there, lost in thought.

"Can't you just leave the TV on?" he muttered, as the girl working there closed it and left.

"Sigh, my luck," he lamented. But then the bar door opened, and Marcel walked in with his usual entourage. They began their usual party with human drinks, and many guys and girls around them started drinking blood.

"Yeah, kinda forgot vampire bars also exist," he mumbled to himself as he observed them.

They partied until 5, talking about a lot of things, most of which were irrelevant. But Michael did manage to learn some interesting things. As soon as the dawn came, they all left the bar.

After a few more hours, the bar was reopened by the girl working there. She came in, cleaning everything around the bar as Camille walked in.

"Since when are you here?" she asked, noticing Michael.

"Since I left you yesterday," he said, as Camille chuckled. "Some can't wait to get their date," she said.

Thinking back, she asked the bartender, "Hey, when did the guy come in here?" she asked.

"Who?" he replied, slightly confused.

"I am talking about him? Are you Drunk?" Camille asked, pointing to Michael sitting at the bar.

"It's you who is Drunk, there's no one here," the bartender replied, leaving Camille standing there, puzzled.

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A/ N : While waiting for new chap, do check out my new book, In Marvel with Ultimate fantasy System

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