MTL - My Senpai Knows Magic - Chapter 111 Roselle reappears

My girlfriend is too beautiful.

And, she treats me so nicely.

I didn’t even confess, I was confessed to.

So…

Why me…?

A mysterious VR game company has unleashed a revolutionary MMORPG, Ascension of Souls, a game so advanced it threatens to blur the line between reality and fiction. Marketed as a groundbreaking innovation, it promised to change the world—but for Leo, it’s far more than just a game.It’s his only hope for survival.Thrown into an expansive, ever-shifting world, Leo fights alongside a growing circle of powerful allies—each with their own ambitions, rivalries, and hidden pasts. Like them, he can level up, grow stronger, and carve his path through a world where strength is everything. But unlike anyone else, he possesses a pair of mysterious bracelets, a power seemingly tied to him alone, unlocking fragmented memories of a past he doesn’t remember.As whispers of forgotten legends surface and unseen forces pull the strings behind the game’s mechanics, Leo realizes that survival isn’t just about leveling up—it’s about unraveling a truth buried deep within the game itself.But uncovering the truth comes at a cost—one that could rewrite everything he knows

Lancelot Haier came from a dynasty of politicians who had ruled with tyranny and oppression. Despite those origins, he despised his family and was willing to help the citizens who had long suffered under their rule.However—before he even had the chance to change his country, the people revolted. His entire family was executed, and he was killed along with them. In his final moments, he wished for a second life—one where he could redeem himself and carry the sins of his bloodline.Unexpectedly, that wish was granted.He was reincarnated into another world as the crown prince of the Kingdom of Aragon. But in this world, everything felt backward.The country was ruled by an absolute monarch. Feudalism was the norm. Technology resembled that of the late 1700s.Fortunately, in his past life, he had earned degrees in both mechanical engineering and political science—knowledge he once hoped to use to reform his homeland. Now, it seemed he would use them here instead.He would use his modern knowledge to transform the lives of his people, industrialize his territory, gain the upper hand in technology, and form alliances with foreign nations—all while navigating the treacherous waters of internal affairs and politics.P.SWhile Reincarnated as the Crown Prince draws inspiration from historical settings, political systems, and technologies of the late 17th and early 18th centuries, this work is entirely fictional.All characters, governments, names, and events—although some may resemble real-world history—are products of the author’s imagination or are used in a fictionalized, altered form for narrative purposes.This novel is not a historical account. It should not be interpreted as a factual representation of any real monarch, nation, revolution, or political figure.Lancelot Haier, his backstory, and the alternate version of different kingdoms portrayed here are entirely original creations. The inclusion of familiar concepts like feudalism, industrialization, and political reform serves the plot and world-building, not historical documentation.Readers seeking accuracy in history are encouraged to consult verified academic sources. This story is a creative work meant for entertainment, character development, and speculative exploration of “what-if” scenarios rooted in alternate history.Thank you for reading, and I hope you will enjoy the journey.

“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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