MTL - Bamboo Horse Alpha - Chapter 39 Arbitrary

“I miss the feudal era very much.” Chen Muyang once said to his friends.

When a friend asked him the reason, Chen Muyang said yearningly: “Because of polygamy in the feudal era, think about it, you can have many wives, you can sleep in different ways every day, and you can sleep together.”

“Cut!” The friends despised them, but their yearning was no less than that of Chen Muyang.

One day, the legendary system merged with Chen Muyang, giving him the ability to travel through the heavens and the world. Chen Muyang’s claws stretched out to countless goddesses in the heavens and the world!

“My, all beauties are mine!”

- Description from novelbuddy

Game has become reality, toppling the world’s rules. Humanity has entered an era of global class awakening.Demonic creatures wreak havoc! Secret realms and dungeons proliferate!Terror and treasures coexist! Danger and opportunity walk hand in hand!Only by becoming a class user! And raising your level and becoming stronger! Only then can you stand at the top of the world!On the day of his class awakening, Lin Moyu became a Necromancer, which is a unique hidden class.He obtained a godly talent. Despite being merely a level 1 talent, it amplifies all skills by 10 times.He obtained a godly passive skill, which transfers all damage he suffers to his summons.As a result, so long as his summons aren’t completely annihilated, Lin Moyu won’t die.“An endless swarm of Godly Skeletal Warriors!”“Millions upon millions of Lichs!”“Countless Undead Bone Dragons!”“Can you handle it?”Subjected to curses, gods transform into white bones.When corpses explode, the sky topples and the world collapses.“I sit high upon a throne of bones, treading the boundary between life and death.”“I am a disaster!”

“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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