MTL - The Best Of You - Chapter 51

What if one could defy death and, instead of perishing, be reborn?

Such a situation happened to Kieran Silver after succumbing to his circumstances caused by wicked superiors.

After being reborn, Kieran's desires changed and he considered the many routes.

The route that resonated with him most was Zenith Online, the MMORPG that changed his life initially.

In his past life, he was a bare minimum kind of guy, using the least at its maximum potential. However, his current outlook changed.

Accomplishing the bare minimum? No, he would go above and beyond!

On his path to greatness, creating an immortal legacy that resounds throughout the universe, dethroning his former guild, and other grand feats will become his stepping stones.

To ensure his aspirations become reality, Kieran must walk a path where he becomes an entity prime for destruction.

Magic, destruction, and ancient practices are just a few of the factors that mold his ultimate power. What began as one of the Hidden Classes would ultimately evolve into a one-of-a-kind entity!

The ultimate power isn't given or born, it is manifested.

In a world of Monsters and Mythical Creatures, he was reborn.

Not as a Human, but as a Monster.

'So you're telling me I can't leave this place?'

[You must first clear the Dungeon's Ten Floors.]

'Only then, will I be able to check out this new world?'

[You must build your strength.]

'By using my “Devourer” and “Evolving Monster” Unique Titles, huh?'

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Baicao Poetry for College Students of Traditional Chinese Medicine in the New Century,

Accidentally transmigrated into the little widow of the same name in the book, and is also bound to a not-so-serious “Herb Garden System”.

When the little widow went to the mountain to dig grass, she rescued a beautiful young man who was dying, but was slandered by her elder sister-in-law to sink the pig cage into the pond.

As an expedient measure, the young man married Baicaoshi.

The Baicao Poetry, which is properly controlled by the face, can’t bear the beauty of the mouth to fly, and said boldly:

“You are in charge of being as beautiful as a flower, and I am in charge of planting grass to support the family!”

The system rewards psyllium seeds, commonly known as weeds,

Baicaoshi raised ducks and opened the first Quanjufang Roast Duck Restaurant in Dayan Country by the way;

The system rewards Zoysia seeds, commonly known as green grass,

Baicaoshi adapted measures to local conditions and opened the first VIP golf course in Dayan Country, and the chuiwan movement has become popular all over the country since then;

The system rewards Cordyceps sinensis seeds, with a gold prescription medical book,

Baicaoshi opened a pharmacy, launched pharmacy meals, and launched cosmeceuticals,

Established the Baicao Conservation Base, founded the Materia Medica Academy and trading center, and became famous as a miracle doctor.

Ying Zhexu, a gifted genius since he was a child, was framed by a traitor and became a sick and weak boy living outside.

“I originally came from the Asura Sea of ​​Hell, so what qualifications do I have to give you happiness?”

However, with her favor, the young man, who has seen the warmth and coldness of the world, is finally unwilling to let go.

All the herbs in the world are inferior to you, you are my only medicine stone.

Up to the poor and down to the underworld, destined to be with you.

Yan Shuiyi’s first ancient Chinese novel after transformation,

A brand new story about Materia Medica under Heaven.

PS: 1v1 Shuangjie, this article is superficial, please do not research it.

- 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.]

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