Dungeon Maker - Chapter 190 Rude Awakening 1

In the previous life, limited by talent and an unsteady Dao Heart, Li An stopped at Core Formation.Reborn into a new life, Li An resolves to cultivate the Life-Nourishing Immortal Skill he obtained in his previous life, all while keeping a low profile on his path toward immortality.

Li Xingwan had transmigrated into a book, becoming a D-list celebrity scandal-ridden and already married.Her husband was a bad omen. Rumor had it, he was a poor and elderly man with hemiplegia. Not only that, she also had to play stepmother.In effect, Li Xingwan was just like a widow.Regarding these rumors, Li Xingwan herself remained silent.The clamoring on the internet grew more intense.“That person who appeared on screen just now, couldn't have been a woman taking care of her hemiplegic husband, could she?”“And what about that ugly freak of a stepson?”“Won't this family put on some sort of tragic drama in front of the camera?”“Li Xingwan, she's just shameless. For money, she'd even marry a hemiplegic.”But...As the camera panned,who was that cold and abstinent Buddha's Disciple? And who was that soft, adorable little bun?!Ahhh! I'm going crazy!!

A genius magician, to fight against his fate to die a natural death from old age, grasped at the truth of magic to allow himself to reincarnate with a power he created himself.

The cycle of reincarnation is repeated multiple times and in his 31st reincarnation, the magician became a boy named Syril who lives in a village of elves.

However, that village is ruled by Humans, and the Elves are treated as livestock.

After becoming 14 years old, Syril, who regained his past knowledge and experience, stands up to help a girl, who is his childhood friend.

The story of the creation of an ideal country begins in that one village, a place where all races can coexist. Elves, Fox-girl, and various other Heroines.

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“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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