MTL - Reborn in Hong Kong: The Tycoon Grows Up - v2 Chapter 1727 New plan three

The ill-fated high school student Liu Yuan obtained the inheritance of the top civilization in the universe and changed his own destiny. He also used many powerful technologies in the inheritance to lead the Chinese nation to rise in the universe.

- Description from novelbuddy

I thought I had been abandoned,But I was actually the child that the Namgoong family had been searching for.It wasn’t until I was killed by the Blood Demon, whom I had called “teacher,” that I learned the truth. When I awoke again as a thirteen-year-old child, I decided to return to the Namgoong family.I didn’t seek to be recognized as family.I only wanted to prevent the Namgoong family from falling apart as it had before.“This is the jewelry, silk, gold bars, and elixirs that the family head has gifted to you.”“Here, little one. This is a congratulatory gift for your return.”As soon as I was recognized as the lost granddaughter of the Namgoong family,I gained delicious food, fine clothes, gold and silver treasures, and a high-quality sword!I also gained a grandfather and a father who cried and laughed for me.But what was that strange, tingling feeling in my chest every time that happened?In order to protect the smiles of those I had once killed,and to preserve this warm and ticklish sensation for as long as I could,I was determined to change the bloody future that awaited me, unlike my previous life…**Namgoong Mucheon’s face darkened.‘Is this child truly raised to be an assassin?’The sharp killing intent and the sword techniques essential for an assassin were reflected in her life, as if they were embedded in her very being.‘Damn brat.’Anger surged within Namgoong Mucheon.He restrained himself from cursing aloud in front of his granddaughter, muttering in his mind instead.‘How dare they raise my granddaughter as an assassin?’The blue energy surrounding Namgoong Mucheon grew even stronger.

A few years ago, the rumored delicate and fragile wheelchair bound beauty of the Rong Family was kidnapped by someone.

While everyone panicked and burned their heads looking for her, only one man was able to find her.

Rong Mo carefully asked the tall and gloomy man before her. “Will…..you continue to protect me?”

The man took one glance at her immobile legs and pale tender face and answered. ”No”

“Then why did you rescue me?”

She waited for a long time before she heard him say lightly. “It was along the way.”

A few years ago, Rong Mo thought this man’s blood must be cold. It was only many years later that he really did become the true sense of the word ‘bodyguard’, and she finally ‘‘experienced’ the warmth and hot blood that his body always had.

Afterwards, Rong Mo sat on her wheelchair in the school garden and looked at the man pretending to be a school worker at a far distance. She reached her hand out to him and said. “Hey. Come over here and lift me up. I need to get to class.”

Nie Feizhan: “….”

“Aren’t you my bodyguard?”

‘I’m only a school worker.” Nie Feizhan reminded her. ”I’m just here to do menial labor.”

“Then menial labor school worker, come here and carry me.”

Afterwards-

“Hey, the bodyguard over there, come here and carry me. I want to go to sleep.”

Nie Feizhan took big steps over. “Are you sure you want me to carry you into the bedroom?”

Rong Mo retreated slightly. “Didn’t you dislike carrying me?”

Nie Feizhan paused and bent down to sweep her off her chair. He said through almost gnashed teeth. “I can’t bear to pick you up everyday and put you in my pocket and you still think that’s not enough like?”

The previous Nie Feizhan: I don’t want to tease her.

I don’t have any interest in cute girls.

I don’t want to protect her, not one bit.

I also won’t fall madly in love with her in the future.

The future Nie Feizhan: Only I can carry her from her chair.

Whomever dares to touch her will be gambling his life away with me.

This is the story of a weak and frail gorgeous heiress vs her manly and protective bodyguard.

- 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.]

……………………………………………………………

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