Doomsday: I Obtained A Fallen Angel Pet At The Start Of The Game - Chapter 179 - Trafford For Mutation!

My name is Zhang Yanhang. I am an ordinary awakened person and a part-time college student. I live a monotonous life at three o’clock and one line every day. I go to school, practice, and go home. I neither smoke nor drink. My only hobby is to pause in time. Observe humans at the time.

I thought this boring life would last forever, but when I was lying in bed and preparing to go to bed that night, I accidentally ran into some interesting things.

[Whether to enter the world of ashes? 】

[Option 1: Yes (Successfully enter the world of ashes and gain the ability to digitize the body and the channels to become stronger. The price is that you may be late for school tomorrow because of staying up late.)]

[Option 2: No (Refusing to enter the world of ashes but feeling a bit wasteful to sleep right away, so I started playing games all night and practicing by the way, at the cost of being late for school tomorrow because of staying up late.)]

[Option 3: Ignore for the time being (It is recommended for patients with difficult diseases to choose this option. After that, you who have been suffering from sleepless nights and entangled whether to enter the ashes world will go to sleep at two in the morning. The price is that you may be late for school tomorrow because of staying up late. )】

ps: The protagonist is not the Virgin, kills decisively, the brain circuit is different from ordinary people, don’t like it if you don’t like it.

- Description from novelbuddy

A man from modern with wavy remains is possessing a notorious street mouse and scum, and what is even more tragic is that the scum also intends to commit misdeeds against the butterfly of the Qing Dynasty.

What will happen to him, who is hated by the world, after changing his soul? Once again in the face of him, the extremely disgusted of proud Lin Shixin and Ji Die, after the gorgeous metamorphosis, how does he make them feel?

Let’s see how Ye Chu steps out of shocking footprints on a road full of thorns! Stir the wind and clouds, evil control Monarch!

In a strange way, to create a very different fantasy world, bring everyone different feelings.

- Description from Novelupdates

You had taken up the Student profession

You had now reached level 7.

Acquired skills: elementary school knowledge, junior school knowledge, and senior high school knowledge.

You took the university entrance exam and scored full marks.

Your have been upgraded to level 9, and you have activated the profession-change interface.

You became a scientist and gained R&D skills.

You used R&D skills and gained space fortress-building technology.

You used R&D skills and gained starship technology.

You are now invincible.

“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.]

……………………………………………………………

Dear readers! Without any ads, maybe you will prefer .