Global Demon King: Starting as the Abyssal Dragon - Chapter 176: Succubus Queen’s Visit to Darkness City

Well-known Composer Fang Zhao was in the glorious stage of his career, when the Apocalypse arrived; After finally experiencing the bitter difficulties of a thousand dangers, when the Apocalypse was simmering down to an end, he collapsed; When he opened his eyes, he was reborn in a New World, 500 years after the end of the apocalypse, in the body of a student who had been dumped barely after graduation, who had been cheated of his hardwork barely after he started working…

The World of the Future, Virtual Idols PK Real Idols

“Every time background music plays in my head, I feel like there is nothing to be afraid of.” —Fang Zhao

Toward the end of the apocalyptic period, Fang Zhao lost his life. However, instead of dying, he found himself 500 years later in the body of a young and aspiring composer who shared the same name. Having received a second chance at life, Fang Zhao sets out to achieve the previous owner’s dreams.

Armed with the experience of living through an apocalyptic age and his profession as a composer before that period, Fang Zhao uses his talent, wits, and knowledge to make his mark in the entertainment industry of the future.

- Description from Novelupdates

“Come not between the Dragon and his Wrath.” — William Shakespeare The year was 2140, and Earth was nothing but a distant memory. Humanity now drifted through the galaxies aboard colossal ARKs, massive skyships that served as the last bastions of civilization. Yet, these ARKs were more than just floating cities; they were humanity’s last containers, preserving what remained of their species. A century before Earth’s final collapse, humanity discovered a gateway to a realm known as Eternia — a fantastical world straight out of myth and legend. Reaching this realm required more than just advanced technology; it demanded a complete departure from the physical body and entry into a mysterious process known as the Dream Weave. In the present day, Cloud lived aboard ARK NO. 427, where he had been training from a young age to step into the Dream Weave. He was a standout among his peers, excelling in every tasks that came his way. Everything seemed to be on track for him — until the pivotal day of the Class Selection process.

“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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