Solo Farming In The Tower - Chapter 660: Damn! I Can’t Use It!

The world of pokemon is synonymous with young boys and girls going on a journey and facing many challenges.

This story is not like that. This story is about a SI coming into one of the most prominent companions of the pokemon world. Unlike other stories, Brock is already established and has gone on his journey. He's faced challenges and returned home to be other people's challenges. Which, there's a lot more to than most people realise.

Explore an alternate pokemon universe with an expanded cast and more mature ideals through the eyes of Brock, Gym Leader to Pewter City Gym, and family man.

Dad promises that I will be always there with you, my little baby.

It was Ye Qian's promise to his child who was yet to be born.

However, fate didn't seem to agree as it took his life in the form of an accident before he could see his little one's face.

The promise that was made to his wife and daughter reverberated as he left the world, just two months before the child was born.

He died, but his soul transmigrated to another body in a different realm.

5000 years of deliberate cultivation in the heavenly realm as a venerable, helped him to reveal the secrets that could pave way for his return to the mortal world.

Finally, he achieved the ultimate power to break through the spatial tear and returned to earth.

Don't worry, my baby. Dad is on the way to meet you, He chanted as he confronted the tribulation. Even when earthly suppression depleted his cultivation, he frets not.

All he wants is to meet his family and fulfil the word he once gave to his daughter and her mother.

Let's accompany Ye Qian in his journey to search for his family and witness his efforts to keep his wife and daughter happy as he helps them to cultivate, for an eternity together.

In a world where reality shifts with every roll of the dice, a man daily partakes in an extraordinary game with the gods, his actions dictated by his decisions and the face of the dice. He takes great joy in this game until the tables turn, and he himself becomes a piece on the game board. Now, the dice are in his hands, and it’s his turn to shape his own destiny. It’s time for the Snowman to play his part.

“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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