MTL - My Two-sided Cultivation: Starting From Collecting Experiences - Chapter 247 The sad Kunpeng clan! Golden Spirit Temple! (four k)

Cool and abstinent president X gentle and pure beauty

Wen Hua is getting married.

The other party is said to be the head of a Chinese family of European financial giants.

When we met, he was dressed in a suit and leather shoes, and his gestures were dignified and self-reliant, with a demeanor all over his body.

Wen Hua stared at him in silence, and after a while, she chuckled, “Interesting.”

After marriage, the two are model couples outside, but the queen respects each other as guests and does not disturb each other.

A friend asked her why she married Xi Mo.

She smiled at Yan Yan, “He is rich and powerful, if there is someone richer than him, I will marry too.”

Suddenly looking up, the man’s dark handsome face was hidden under the psychedelic lights of the bar.

Friends watching the excitement didn’t think it was a big deal: “Huahua, you’re miserable, go home and kneel on the washboard.”

It was impossible to go home, so she went back to her natal family.

Go back to your natal home if you get into trouble, go back to your natal home if you get angry, and go back to your natal home if you say something wrong

Mr. Xi is no stranger to this, and nine out of ten times he coaxes people back with nice words.

When he caught up with Wen’s house, someone was sitting in the living room eating oranges, saw him, and unhurriedly ate the last piece, with a provocative expression on his face, “Don’t move here, I’ll buy you some oranges. ”

“…”

Instead of being angry, he gently and patiently coaxed her home

- Description from novelbuddy

In the year 2057, the world has become a corporate-run utopia for the super-rich, and a hellhole for all the rest. Catherine 'Cat' Leblanc is an orphan that is about as far from super-rich as one can be. When the Incursion alarms start blaring and the sky starts raining hungry xenos, it's just another blemish on an already piss-poor afternoon. A cyberpunk magical-girl alien-invasion LitRPG.It’s exactly as wild as it sounds.

Luck is limited and when villains and heroes hoard it, extras lose it.An ambitious villain defeated and killed far too soon, and a heroic group that couldn't prevent humanity's extinction, find themselves back in the past.Their battles and stolen opportunities cause consequences unknown to them, impacting the lives of all those around them, especially extras, moreso one named Neville. Unbeknownst to him, his fate is greatly influenced by the 'main characters'.He'd seen it all, gangsters, politicians and their mistresses, arrogant celebrities, even bratty heirs. But nothing prepared him for the night his client was involved in an 'accident'.Right after he was summoned by his boss who fired him and accused him of being involved but since they couldn't prove it only his license was revoked.After getting out of the building, his boss tells him that the client's family demanded to meet thehim, hoping for some answers and closure.But before going there he needed to pick up the client's eldest daughter...After that encounter his world went through changes his family pushed him to the edge and the supernatural became natural and he had to adapt to his strange new abilities!

“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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