The Amber Sword - Chapter 864 - v5c52p1

He was once the most feared villain in the empire, a master of manipulation who wove chaos from the shadows. Ruthless, untouchable—until the day he was betrayed and executed by the very man he sought to control.But death is not the end.He awakens in the body of Lady Elara Valcrest, a fragile noble girl doomed to be a pawn in political games. Stripped of her former power, she is forced into an arranged marriage with none other than Cairon Everhart—the man who once killed her. He does not recognize her, but she knows him. And she will never forget.To survive, Elara must play a new game. One where deception is her only weapon, and trust is a dangerous illusion. She must outmaneuver her enemies, uncover the truth behind her execution, and reclaim the power she lost. But as she navigates the treacherous world of court intrigue, one question lingers—Was Cairon truly her greatest enemy? Or had she been blind to an even greater threat?Time is running out. The villain has been given one last chance. And this time, she refuses to lose.

“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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America, 1980. No sooner had Xu Yi transmigrated than he was put on the dissection table; then he gradually came to understand the true nature of this world. “Studying medicine can’t exorcise undead demons; I must become an exorcist!” he resolved silently to himself. On a misty, rain-soaked night. “Miss Evil Spirit over there, the night is cold and damp; be careful not to catch a chill! Come over here and warm yourself by the fire!” Xu Yi said, holding a lighter, as the pale gold flame slowly approached the other. The Evil Spirit shrank back, looking at Xu Yi with fear. “Don’t be afraid, I just want to warm you up...” Xu Yi’s face broke into a warm smile, “by setting you on fire!” Ding dong! Ding dong! “Sign-in at the Land of Fear successful, Resurrection Coin awarded!” “Synthesis pathway requirements met, do you wish to combine the following entries?” Psychic + Scholar + Painter = Psychic Painter! Saintly Offspring + Gunfight Technique + Revolver Mastery = Holy Gunslinger! Undead + Revelation + Holy Nation = God!

The universe. This infinite field of stars is the dream of every Hunter.

For the Hunters who run amidst the stars, the only limit they truly have is the universe.

Is there a limit to the universe? And where would this limit lay?

When the Shadow Hunter; a young man named Cillin obtains a strange chip by accident, he begins his journey into this endless field of stars.