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Next chapter: Chapter 58-59
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... cause of dehydration.”


As Ramphil spoke, both Leona and Zin looked at Ramphil. “You weren’t born in the fortress?” Leona asked.


“No, I was born outside the fortress. I don’t remember… but it might have been a Point.”


“Hmm… Wargrave rarely accepts outsiders. That’s news to me,” Zin murmured.


Wargrave consisted of soldiers, but everyone had different roles. Similar to other military organizations, Wargrave had many combat soldiers, but there were also non-co ...

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Demons, devils, ghosts and monsters

Plunge the mortals weak in horrors;

Arms of gods and blades of devils,

Shroud the world in untold evils.

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In this world, ordinary mortals live in dark fear and helplessness, without any means to fight against the supernatural.

As Lu Sheng struggles desperately for survival, he stumbles upon a game mod he had designed for a mobile phone app in his previous life. It unexpectedly becomes his special ability, which enables him to instantly level up any skill he learns, albeit at a cost.

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Beside the coast, a hundred-meter star gate is overflowing with light.

Outside the star gate, the army made of steel can’t see the edge at a glance.

On the sky, a fighter jet flew across the sky, interweaving the iron curtain.

In the distant ocean, aircraft carriers, destroyers, and frigates are all over the sea, ready to go.

All the muzzles were aimed at a figure walking out of the star gate.

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“war?”

Ancient and Jinlai took a step forward, and his body rose against the wind. In an instant, he grew from less than two meters to a Chaos Demon God thousands of meters high. The brilliance of a white dwarf radiated from him, and his own gravity alone caused it to be caused by thousands of miles around. Lightning and thunder, tsunami tides.

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Looking at a toy-like war weapon.

Reaching out, a hydrogen bomb fell into his hand.

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“I think you should choose peace.”

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“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.

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*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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