MTL - RPG - Chapter 47 Set forty seven

Everyone thought that the most powerful scientist they had ever seen was a national treasure-level scientist until they saw Baizhi-
The light of technology, a cosmic scientist.

Three thousand worlds are different.

In each world, she is keen on scientific research.

This is a story of a scientific researcher who concentrates on scientific research, explores high-dimensional science in various worlds, and refuses to admit defeat and fate. The text is easy to comprehend, flows smoothly, humorously, and the plot is full of ups and downs, and it is full of positive energy.

- Description from Novelupdates

It is an ultimate goal and dream for every man to be fully in charge of the power while lying drunk beside a beauty’s knees.

There was an ordinary man who had originally led a calm and average life. His life should have been mediocre throughout. However, one day he got a queer stone from an old swindler. Surprisingly, with the help of the stone, he actually possessed the ability to see through things. His whole life was turned upside down overnight. The door to a brand new world was open to him. In the end, having numerous beauties surrounding him, he got caught up in a relationship vortex, a grand scene of fighting over power: Starting from being a mediocre and nameless nobody, he overcame all the difficulties on the way and raked in the power, the beauty, and the wealth all in the end. Let’s have a look at how he had the whole city in the palm of his hand, how he lived a glorious life, and how he made himself a legend with just one simple stone.

“Y-y-you’re the heir of Reyes Group?” Ian managed to stutter out.

“Yes. And I would prefer no one in Mor Co. figured it out. If I know Marco’s efficiency by the time we get back to the office my appointment as an assistant to the President of Mor Co. will be announced. At the same time all business registrations of Mor Co. will be moved to my name. All the directors will be informed of this but no one else.”

Camilla and Ian nodded in understanding.

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Cedric Reyes has a secret, he is the heir and eldest son of the rich and powerful Reyes clan. As tradition all heirs of their family have to go through a form of poverty training at the age of fifteen. They are left to fend for themselves with no contact and barely any money.

Since leaving, he's gotten married to Adrianna Herandez, the Treasure of the Hernandez clan. Adrianna's family had always looked down at him due to his humble origins, but Adrianna has always stuck by him. Treated badly by his classmates in the past, and his in law in the present. They are about to encounter the shock of their lives.

The Reyes Heir rules the country with his friends, the four princes, who are each from powerful and well respected families.

“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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