Claiming My Possessive CEO Husband - Chapter 339 - : The Enemy of My Enemy is My Friend

On 1977, Voyager I took flight.

On 2010, Voyager II sent some rather strange information back to Earth.

On July, 2021, Voyager II lost contact with Earth four years before the planned date.

At the start of the 26th century, civilization on Earth was isolated and held in captivity.

At 10 a.m. on October 27th, 3020, humankind went extinct.

One year before the extinction, an ordinary youth

Harrison Clark from the 21st century travelled forward in time and arrived a thousand years into the

future. He discovered that after he died, he would be returned back to the

21st century.

Reading history in the future and changing the future in history.

In this seemingly never-ending cycle,

Harrison Clark began to look for that one glimmer of hope for both himself and humankind.

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In this world riddled with strife, where even kids know spells, and powerful mages are nobility, Cael was born with no mana at all. An heir to the family of mages, he was his father’s disappointment, and his city’s laughingstock. But who knew that he had a much different destiny? To prevent a looming catastrophe no one else knows about—to stop the Starspawn.

“Blood Mage System activated. Greetings, user. I am your Blood Mage System. Consume the blood of powerful creatures to purchase new abilities.”

With that power, Cael will become a hero able to stand against the fate that crushed countless others—even if the world will call him a demon instead.

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By some ill fortune, Hikaru died in a traffic accident. He was in heaven standing in line, waiting to be judged, when he took an unexpected request to transfer his soul to a person in another world. He received an ability called Soul Board which he could use to allocate points to Skills to make himself more powerful.

But there was a catch…

「I want you to take revenge on someone for me within an hour. If you don’t, I’ll destroy your soul.」

To pull off the task assigned to him, he poured all his available points to the Stealth skill tree.

This is a story of a boy who specialized in Stealth. With his skill trees as weapons, he would demonstrate his unrivaled strength in another world.

“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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