MTL - Doraemon: My Nobita! Join Chat Group - Chapter 406

In the current era, people are either normal or are with ‘special abilities’. Cases related to the latter are managed by the “National Anomaly Prevention and Control and Special Species Management Office”.
Qi Zheng Emperor Sheng Lingyuan was reawakened a thousand years later after he jumped off the fiery Red Lake. Xuan Ji, a newly transferred staff to the Reparations Division of the Deviant Control Office, finds himself having to clean up the mess of a revived tyrannical monarch. The two seemed to share something from the past, but unbeknownst to them, a big conspiracy is stirring right underneath their noses that could destroy the balance of the world.

- Description from Novelupdates

“Sometimes it's about remembering and never forgiving.”Jane Devold, the only daughter of the CEO of one of the most successful tech companies in the country, grew up to be a seemingly happy and spoiled young woman, despite her stuttering and fragile condition.However, her rich and elegant way of living ends in a heartbeat when her father goes missing, leaving Jane alone and with an enormous debt on her hands.That's when she reunites with Vernon Lin, her strange and intimidating senior from college, who claims to be the new owner of her father's company and promises to resolve her financial issues if she agrees to marry him.His offer seems harmless, and Jane accepts his helping hand only to realize that Vernon's intentions are not so pure, and his personality is still miles away from that of a knight in shining armor.But what really does feed Vernon's unhealthy obsession with Jane? Whether it's his desire for revenge, his own twisted way of teaching the spoiled young woman how the real life works, or unresolved complicated feelings, he still succeeds in turning Jane's life into a living hell.Until he realizes that without her, his own life is hell, too.

When he wakes up, Su Changkong has traveled to a world where troops are chaotic and demons are rampant, and his martial arts qualifications are mediocre, but Su Changkong found that as long as his [lifespan] increases, his talent and potential can be [infinitely] improved!

Wu Qin Xi: imitating tigers, deer, bears, apes, birds and other animals.

Turtle Breath True Dinggong: Imitation Qigong, like a thousand-year-old tortoise breathing, breathing, breathing and closing for a long time, prolonging life!

Celestial silkworm magic: nine transformations of the silkworm, breaking the cocoon into a butterfly, rejuvenating the old and rejuvenating, opening the door of life and death, every transformation is a rebirth!

Cultivation of health boxing, practice the Qi of longevity! There are many corpses on the road of longevity, and Su Changkong has embarked on a longevity martial arts where heaven and earth are destroyed but I am immortal!

- Description from novelbuddy

“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.]

……………………………………………………………

Dear readers! Without any ads, maybe you will prefer .