After the Disabled God of War Became My Concubine - Chapter 161

Uchiha Natsuki obtained the power system, revived Uchiha, and created the strongest force in the ninja world.

Exclude me Uchiha? Sorry, we quit!

Whoever the garrison likes will go!

“Kakashi, Danzo was the mastermind behind White Fang’s death and was connived by the Third Generation. You actually worked for Konoha!?”

“Itachi, this time I will awaken the Eternal Kaleidoscope for you.”

“Bai, your actual combat ability is too weak. Please enter the Tsukiyomi space to practice for a few years.”

Sorry, we Uchiha have kaleidoscope per capita.

Who can fight in a group fight these days? Get on my shoulder!

Otsutsuki is coming to destroy the world, but you are still striving to be Hokage. There is something wrong with you.

Danzo: “We must not allow Uchiha to gain power!”

“Sir, Uchiha Fugaku has resigned from his position as captain of the Konoha Guard.”

“???”

Third Generation: “The position of Hokage will never be given to you as Uchiha!”

“Hokage-sama, Uchiha has withdrawn from the Hokage campaign.”

“???”

“Sir! Uchiha has established his own country!”

“What!?”

“It’s not rare for us Uchiha to use a Hokage as a treasure. Let’s wait and use him as a target.”

ps: Hizashi did not die simply because he wanted Neji to have a father.

- Description from novelbuddy

Ryu Han-bin, the main character who fell into a new world after being chosen as a ‘suitable person’.

Because of the error in the guidelines, the training is repeated endlessly…

Abandoned at birth in a humble stable, Shirone was raised by commoners—but he was anything but ordinary. Blessed with remarkable insight, he taught himself to read at a young age. A fateful visit to the city introduced him to the wonders of magic, igniting an unshakable dream of becoming a mage. Yet, beneath the city's dazzling facade lurked a ruthless social hierarchy, where power and privilege crushed those who dared to rise above their station. As Shirone uncovers the world's darkest secrets before even coming of age, one question remains—can he defy fate and claim his destiny as a mage in a world determined to keep him down?

“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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