Grand Ancestral Bloodlines - Chapter 2242 Grand Ancestral Bloodlines

Alexander lived—and died—as a wretched, poor virgin, meeting his end as he laid in the hands of his own mother.Stricken by a strange illness, his final vow was a desperate plea: If I’m ever reborn, I’ll attack all the ladies. I'll give my canal desires more attention!Miraculously, fate answers.Reborn into a world eerily similar to his last, Alexander awakens as a Guardian Candidate—a chosen warrior destined to endure trials and serve the gods.But he has no interest in destiny. Armed with divine skills and a frustratingly incompetent and seductive system, he rejects his ordained path, determined to seize this second life for one purpose: conquering women.Now, as a self-aware, unapologetic pervert, Alexander embarks on a relentless quest to charm, seduce, and claim every beautiful woman he encounters.Will his insatiable appetite lead him to the harem of his dreams, or will his reckless pursuit bring another premature end?Join Alexander in this wild, uninhibited adventure—where desire defies duty, and pleasure reigns supreme!

Chen Shiping, a Qi training monk from the Foundation Establishment family, is struggling in the world of cultivating immortals

- Description from novelbuddy

There were three words in the Sun star empire to describe Scarlet Su, Useless, trash and stupid. But one day, Scarlet Su's star account went from having the user name 'The mecha king's bride' to 'The mecha king sucks.'

Suddenly everyone wondered, what new attention seeking game was she playing?

Dying in a zombie infested earth, a young woman dives into a door way which should lead to a wonderful new world but instead, she awakens on an interstellar world in the body of Scarlet Su, the unwanted wife of the empire's favorite general and mecha king.

She becomes an instant mother to the general's son and the part owner of an undeveloped garbage planet.

Luckily, she has transmigrated with her storage space, millions of supplies and a willingness to work hard.

Unfortunately, she is tricked into becoming a grim reaper in this interstellar world. Every week she must deliver souls to the underworld or risk losing her newly acquired mental strength and return to the being the old Weak, useless Scarlet. She went from being Scarlet the useless to Scarlet the amazing and her husband suddenly came calling desperate for her to accept his love.

She said, “Talk to your son first, he is the one seeking a father.”

But his son said, “You want to be my daddy, join the line of suitors over there and fill in your information.”

Excerpt:

“So the prodigal husband returns after all this time and here I thought you were dead.” she said sarcastically.

“Watch your tongue Scarlet, I am still your husband.”

Scarlet laughed and crossed her arms, “So you are aware that you are a husband, how should I react now that you have chosen to embrace the title you so easily wanted to discard a few months ago. Should I clap my hands and then take my clothes off and beg you to ravish me?” she rolled her eyes at him and scoffed.

She watched her husband slowly walk toward her with a focused furious look in his eyes and she wondered if she had pushed him too far.

“You dared to send me divorce papers, Scarlet, have you lost your damn mind?”

'No,' she thought, 'On the contrary, you have lost yours.'

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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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