MTL - The Game is Suspended, Only I Know the Invasion of Reality - Chapter 257v2 Brilliant Saint Crystal, and the Scroll of Divine Favor!

“Destiny is a matter of Choice not Chance,

It is not a thing to be waited for but a thing to be Achieved”

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The story sets in a mana blessed world, Planet Vermillion, where every being possesses a System.

At the edge of his life, Zero, a man without a System, finally loses everything and embraces his death with a tired yet relieved expression.

As if by fate, the owner of the system approaches Zero through a screen and gives him a chance to connect with the System, however Zero denies it in exchange for a chance to change or undo all the mistakes he has done in his life.

The owner of the System accepts Zero’s wishes but at a certain price and sends Zero back into the past.

Still without a System, but with the knowledge of the future and various skills honed over the years, Zero begins his new journey to change everything he could.

Save everyone who needs to be saved and kill everyone who needs to be killed.

However, the more he moves forward, the more he realises that the ‘truths’ which he had known in his previous life are much more complicated than what they seem.

Balancing his previous beliefs and the new found mysteries that could shatter his perspective, he still keeps moving forward despite things getting more chaotic with every step.

As if fate itself wanted him to fall, an unknown disaster approaches him from behind and a familiar screen comes in front of him

[Ummm… Zero. It might be a bit late but… Looks like I have messed up big time]

In that life, Fan Qingyao was the daughter of a famous family, the successor of a miraculous doctor, and her medical skills were superb. But she poisoned the traitor Zhongliang, considered the thief his father, and threatened her relatives to seek power and seize the throne for him.

The whole family of my grandfather died without any body parts, and my brother was burned into a handful of ashes. Having been drained of all her value, she was thrown into the cold palace and died tragically under the boning knife in his hand.

When she opened her eyes again, she was back to when she was ten years old. People are still the same people, things are still the same, but Fan Qingyao vows to turn things around!

For her seriously ill mother, her wasted sister, and her nameless brother, she wanted to personally find happiness and health for them, and a bright future ahead of them.

Stepmother who dominates her mother’s status, since you love money, I will keep you in poverty for the rest of your life.

Partial father, if you like power, I will ruin your reputation!

You scumbag who deceived her, you love the throne, I will let you watch others sit on that chair!

My sister with a hidden smile, everything you like, I will crush it to pieces in front of you with my own hands!

In this life, relatives must be protected and enemies must be fought. Of course, revenge is not avenged in a day, and the road is not completed in one day.

However, as this road of revenge continues, one more person appears out of thin air! Your Highness, could you please give way?

- Description from novelbuddy

“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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How long I’d been here, I couldn’t quite recall. From this sorry situation, I as always raised my eyes to the sky; a sky in which the great, massive sun was clad in levity. Sunlight poured gently upon all. What a blessing it would have been for the world if only the skies could remain clear. For tomorrow too, and for all days to come, I was to continue to pray for calm. To endure for those who cried, with desperation I remained in prayer.

And then, one freezing, forlorn, soulless, stagnant, drizzly day we died. Or so I thought…