Apostle of the Gods - Chapter 89 - Spending Holiday with Saria, RunRun and Everyone

Wyatt Jacob, a young man who hated the profession he once loved as a marine biologist after being brutally castrated and sexually assaulted by a pod of dolphins, had lived his life with pain and suffering as an impotent man having no other choice than to continue his work as a marine biologist with the emotional trauma that now accompanied it to earn a living.

But that was until he met the 'Happiness god' who granted him the chance to be reborn in the 'World of Tharcania'. A world filled with wonders and mysteries as 'a pirate; -'a prince exiled by his empire and thrown into the sea.

Now given another chance to live his life with his little brother intact, Wyatt will sail the seas of the 'World of Tharcania', exploring its beauty and wonders with the various pleasures that came with it.

Traveling through the Naruto world, he was reborn as Uchiha Itachi’s uncle, and awakened Dio’s substitute “World”.

Have you ever seen Uchiha practicing blocks?

Ghost back, tire shoulders, a face of Araki lines.

Tear Susano with your hands, step on the tailed beast, and fight Kaguya Hime hand-to-hand.

I heard that the thunder escape ninjutsu in Yunyin Village is unique in the ninja world? I invented Uchiha’s Yin Escape Illusory Body Art.

I heard Itachi wants to exterminate the clan? When I went up, I just slapped my nephew’s teeth.

I heard that Obito Kamui is invincible? I punched through the void.

I am the god of muscles of Uchiha.

Smash – Varudo!

This book is also known as: “Saving Uchiha from the Destruction of Konoha”

“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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His life was full of ups and downs, rebellious, and brilliant. No one can deny his excellence. With hundreds of millions of box office in his left hand and countless trophies in his right, even the most critical film critics have to lower their heads, let alone It is said that countless movie fans all over the world worship him, leaving an indelible mark in this era.
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You can only avoid falling in love with him if you completely loathe him – The New York Times

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