Transmigrated As My Former Uncle's Sweetheart - Chapter 64 - It Would Mean For Him To Wait Until Death Comes For Him

You have no memories. You don’t know who you are or why you’re here. But none of that matters.You are one of a thousand chosen, thrown into the Pantheon’s Ordeal, a brutal trial created by the gods. The rules are simple: survive, grow stronger, and uncover the truth about yourself. But this trial is not fair. The challenges will break you. The monsters will hunt you. And the people beside you? They are not your allies, they are your competition.Only ten will make it to the end. The rest will be lost forever. But if you survive, the gods will reward you with power beyond imagination.Now, fight. Endure. Remember who you are.Dune wakes up in a strange, empty place with no memory of who he is or how he got there. All he knows is that he needs to survive.As he faces dangerous creatures, humans, and tough trials, Dune starts to uncover fragments of his past. He meets allies and enemies, each revealing new clues about the mysterious world around him.Driven by a need to remember, Dune pushes through impossible, hoping to reclaim his identity and uncover the truth about world he’s trapped in.

“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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For the sake of his family, Ren embarked on the popular VRMMORPG, COVENANT, that used real-time in-game currency. But being a mediocre player who only knows how to gather information, he was put in a supporting role.

As the game explodes in popularity and every multibillion-dollar company invested in the game, things have turned for the worse for Ren. Due to the amount of information he gathered, the cheats, secrets, quests, and bugs he discovered, he was silent in fear of selling the information to the other guilds.

But given a second chance, he went back in time when his father was still alive and COVENANT was just in its starting phase.

This time . . . he wouldn’t be that guy on the side who gathered information from day in and day out for ten years.

Equipped with the games knowledge he accumulated, he will become . . . an Alchemist!

Chrono Mage? Djin Master? Summoner? Necromancer?
Chaos Lord?

What good are those?

Sure they’re powerful and rare classes and sought after by guilds, but it’s the alchemist who forged artifacts and concocts rare items and potions that gets the most coins at the end of the day!

It was better than being a blacksmith or a crafter! Plus, he could use all sorts of magic without limit to race and class!

It was the ultimate class! And no one even knows it!

“Young man, I can tell from your skeletal structure that you have an extremely rare talent. You must be a one in a million prodigy in the martial arts. Now that the Blue Planet has ascended, mutant beasts are ravaging our homes, and foreign species are invading our land, our people are in grave danger. Here, I have an [Infinite Demon God Physique Training Method], I’ll give it to you for just two dollars. You shall be entrusted with the mission of maintaining world peace.”Xu Lingyun was touched. He said, “I can’t believe that you can actually see my true potential. Here’s four dollars, no need to give me change.”The scammer took the money, left him a fake secret training manual, and left feeling content.Xu Lingyun brought the secret manual home. He slapped the cover of the book. Instantly, the aged, tattered book started emanating a magnificent array of lights. An ancient and powerful aura filled the air, dominating the stars and piercing through the age.A fake?Oh please, in front of me, there is no such thing as “description may not match the actual item, please see the actual item”.