Advent of the Three Calamities - Chapter 441: Confessional Hearing [4]

Six thousand years ago, Su Changsheng traveled through the fantasy world. He practiced hard and wanted to reach the peak, but he failed to even attain sainthood and was backlashed. He was disheartened, and when he wanted to die…The system was accidentally activated.‘As long as you marry a wife and have children, and develop the family, you can continue to get rewards and resources.’Su Changsheng suddenly realized the right way to advance to the peak.[You married Gu Qingge, the Empress of Destiny, and she gave birth to your first daughter. Talent: Indestructible Body, Aptitude: Peerless in the world!] [Rewards: Indestructible Body of the First Demon of All Calamities; Emperor-level Scripture!] [You vigorously developed the family and successfully promoted it to the ancient family!] [Rewards: Ancient Clan Gift Package; Luck-Golden Dragon; Imperial Weapon from Ancient Clan] [You married the Ancient Queen…] [You married Quintuplet Goddess from the Celestial Clan…]“I can have such achievements in my life, it’s all thanks to my own efforts!”Several years later, Su Changsheng, the supreme immortal master of the heavens, revered as the Great Heavenly Emperor Changsheng, humbled himself.

Qin An was a former senior grim reaper who retired after serving the underworld for thousands of years. Because of his outstanding service and had enough merits, he was given a chance to become a human and unexpectedly transmigrated to the Interstellar era. But, how can he live his retirement days when has no money and everything? So, Qin An entered a reality talent show for idols and became an existence that everyone admires to.

Lucas Arthur was nothing more than a weak and struggling C-rank hunter, barely getting by in a world where power dictated everything. Forced to participate in a risky raid in a Class B cell, he found himself abandoned by his comrades when a deadly ambush left one of them, Andre, mortally wounded.As Lucas stood beside his dying comrade, the impossible happened. A glowing blue screen appeared in front of him.[Congratulations! You have earned the unique skill: “System Maker (SSS Rank)”]Before he could realize the absurdity of it, another prompt followed.[You have met the requirements to grant Andre the System: Evolutionary System]Driven by instinct, Lucas agreed and watched in shock as Andre's wounds healed, his strength rose, and his eyes shone with new power.Then, with unwavering loyalty, he spoke:*“Your orders, sir?”*It was then that Lucas realized he had the power to create systems for the Hunters, growing stronger with each follower.Each follower and each hunter Lucas gave a system that could evolve and increase in level and powerBut as Lucas grants more systems, powerful enemies take notice—ones who would do anything to control or destroy a System MakerWith every hunter he empowers, Lucas steps closer to becoming an existence that defies the very rules of this world.

“Coming live to you, from Cerou Street, this is MBP News, and we have an unfolding situation to report. Late last night, at approximately 3:00 AM, an explosive-like sound reverberated through this area, disrupting the sleep of residents and instilling fear in their hearts,” the news anchor, a striking figure, delivered the report with poise, standing before the camera amidst a bustling scene.

In the background, the blaring horns of ambulances and police vehicles disturbed the serenity of the beautiful morning light. Two individuals wearing protective suits, presumably forensic experts, held a stretcher carrying a charred body.

The news anchor, who had been reporting earlier, placed a hand on her ear, fitted with an earpiece, and looked visibly surprised. Her voice filled with urgency as she continued, “We have just received an update from our headquarters regarding the sole fatality in this unexpected incident. The victim of this tragic event is none other than Norman, the famous gigolo of Night palace.”

“My colleague, who was set to cover an event today at Nightplace, obtained this information firsthand from Countess Maria, who held a special place for Norman in her heart. Our focus this morning is on this breaking news,” the female news reporter continued amidst the chaotic scene, while Norman's charred body lay alone in the ambulance.

Meanwhile, in a different world, a young boy lay fast asleep with his head on the table. The sun, seemingly displeased with the boy's carefree slumber, cast its rays directly onto his face. Annoyed by the intrusion, the boy shifted his head in another direction, unwilling to be roused from his deep sleep.

*ZZZr Zzrz Zzrzzr* However, an additional source disturbed his sleep, filling the room with a buzzing sound. The boy furrowed his brows in annoyance, his eyes still closed. He searched his surroundings and discovered a glass-like slab. With closed eyes, he slid his finger across it and placed it near his ear.

“Hello...” he mumbled in his drowsy voice, which carried a hint of depth.

“Hey, Pissed-up Prat, where are you?” a voice laced with disdain emanated from the slab.

The boy, referred to as the “Pissed-up Prat” by the irritating female voice, recognized it as a voice he heard frequently but couldn't recall its owner. With his eyes still closed, he inquired, “Who is this?”

“What do you mean, 'who is this'? Wake up, come home, or eat shit for breakfast if you prefer!” the voice behind the transparent slab retorted before falling silent.

The boy, still not fully awakened, gazed at the half-opened glass slab with a mixture of confusion and surprise. As his eyes darted around the room, he became increasingly shocked.

As he recollected the fragmented memories from the night before he lost consciousness, his gaze fell upon the entrance of the shop. Once old and damp, it now bore a different appearance. While not transformed into a luxurious space, it had undergone improvements compared to its previously dilapidated state.

The shop took on a rectangular shape, with one longer side adorned with wooden shelves intricately patterned. Rows of empty glass jars lined these shelves. On the opposite side, there was another wooden shelf, also displaying empty jars. Towards the beginning of the counter, where the boy had been sleeping, there stood a peculiar machine.

Confusion etched across his face, he murmured to himself, “Whose shop is this?”

In response to his question, a mechanical voice resonated in his mind.

[The Omnistore belongs to you, host.]

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