I! Cleaner! - Chapter 548 - 483: Reports and Threats

This is the story of a young boy who steps into the world of immortals.If you love Fantasy and cultivation novels, then you can give it a shot.It will be slow paced in start, but I will try my best to not make it too slow, that it might become unbearable to read.The main character (MC) will be a lone individual, avoiding excessive social interactions, including friendships.This is my first novel, so please forgive any errors. I will do my best to make it as error-free as possible.Do remind me in the comments for any errors.

Song Yuan accidentally picked up a 5-year-old child.

The child has bright eyes, chiseled features, and prideful demeanor. He referred to himself as “this prince” and his mannerism was wild, cool, and stuck up.

“This prince will never eat such lowly food!”

“How dare you flirt with other men behind the back of my imperial father?”

“He insulted this prince and you sided with him? This prince will sentence his entire clan to death!”

Song Yuan was very disturbed. The DNA test had confirmed that the child was, indeed, her son, but why did he act like he was delusional?

More importantly, who was the father of the child?

The prince was going mad from worrying; Imperial Father, if you don’t come soon, Imperial Mother is really going to cheat on you!

- Description from Novelupdates

...[Inside an underground basement]“You are going to die for nothing, hahahaha,” the old man's voice thundered through the room, sending chills down my spine.Step.With a swift and ruthless motion, he lunged forward, his sword slicing through the air and slashing my throat, crimson droplets staining the darkness.“We'll see,” I whispered defiantly, my final words escaping as a mere breath against the impending darkness.Slowly, inexorably, my consciousness slipped away, and I descended into a deep, unfathomable slumber.“Huh!?” My eyes fluttered open, and I found myself seated in a bustling tavern, the air thick with laughter and the clinking of glasses.In front of me stood a captivating lady, her beauty juxtaposed with an angry furrow upon her brow, threatening to shatter the harmony of the jovial scene.“Don't follow me around!” Her words pierced the air like shards of ice, the intensity of her emotions palpable as she cast a resentful glare in my direction, before swiftly departing from the tavern....Am I trapped within the confines of a game? The fragments of my shattered common sense scattered before me, leaving me to question the very fabric of my reality.

The tale of Oliver.
An orphan boy from a Mine, in 19th century Europe, filled with Magic.