MTL - Quickly Wear the Face of the Devil - Chapter 128 12.6

Su Binglan was known to be the most awful woman in Suteng Village. She spent money to buy a beautiful slave and had him marry into her family, but physically and verbally abused him every day.

The new Su Binglan who transmigrated over learned that this slave was a descendant of a family of generals. The courageous warriors in his family had sacrificed themselves, leaving only him alive. Seeing the man covered in wounds, Su Binglan decided to spoil her husband. Blessed with incredible luck, equipped with a spatial spirit spring and possessing divine medical skills, she led the entire village on a journey to gain wealth. She became everyone’s lucky star.

The weather was dry with no sign of rain. The crops were about to die from this drought, but with a snap of her fingers, rain immediately started pouring.

Despite the villagers’ painstaking efforts, their harvest amount was low. She presented them premium seeds and helped everyone achieve great harvest.

Poison? Fractured limbs? Not to worry. She could use her medical skills to cure them all.

Whichever mountain she entered, the treasures inside seemed to call out to her, begging her to take them home.

Their food culture wasn’t as advanced. She casually made a few dishes and started a new food trend.

The man who dotes on her and protects her: Darling, I’ll give you whatever you want.

All the villagers: Binglan, you’re our village’s lucky star. Don’t let anyone take you away.

Her brothers: Our sister is the priority. We will get you whatever you want.

[Group pampering + multiple identities + a kingdom building story with no awful characters + strong female lead + sweet story about pampering her husband]

Life is simply too short to have fun.

Yan An agreed with this saying and decided to seek some sort of fun during her lonely trip.

And now, in the present, inside the cramped airplane cabin, the skydiving instructor is sitting next to her.

With an upright face and long and toned legs, the instructor overall has a striking and abstinent impression.

Indeed it is an abundantly beautiful spring; spring is now in the human world.

“Hey, handsome, my life is now in your hands now, so why don’t you give me your phone number, huh?”

*

As the first ray of sunlight penetrates the receding darkness of the night, Shan Yi slowly gets up, his rugged and sensual figure laid bare for all to see.

But room is so dead and quiet as if there hasn’t been any trace of any living person.

Then the phone under the pillow vibrates: I have a sudden emergency, I’m returning to China first, thank you for your hospitality, and see you in the rivers and lakes soon! Bye-bye, Handsome.

Shan Yi silently smiled at the message; the morning rays of the sun didn’t bring any warmth.

*

In Beitong Airlines, a new batch of trainee pilots has been recently dispatched.

Yan An, who was assigned to follow the new captain of the aircraft, heard that he is one of the most competent and punctual captains in the entire civil aviation industry.

And around that time, she heard the clacking sound of leather shoes approaching the door, Yan An decided sneakily stretched her neck to take a quick look, where she was left utterly dumbfounded.

The man is in a crisp and pristine uniform. He has broad shoulders, narrow waist, and tall, upright body, that is seemingly bursting with testosterone.

The gaze of the two collided, and with his black eyes so piercing and deep, Shan Yi raised his thin lips into a smile yet not like a smile, he gently pressed a hundred-euro bill onto the table, and calmly stated,

“Returning it to its rightful owner.”

The man declared in a cold-clipped tone: “My worth, when compared to this amount of money, is far from close.”

Yan Dog: F*ck, you have lost your future by being wild like this!

- Description from Novelupdates

“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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