PREVIEW

... here was a common saying in the Inner World: If you triggered the rules of a Forbidden Land, then just find a good place to await your death.

If you have B-level strength, you can try to break out of the Forbidden Land.

If you have A-level strength, you can break out of the Forbidden Land even if you were at the center.

If you have S-level strength, just do whatever you please.

So, that was why Wang Bingxu said that even with peak C-level strength, Qing Huai would ...

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MTL - Dinghai Fusheng RecordsChapter 138 At the end of the song, I’ve read a million miles.
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Immortal arts, magic weapons, magical powers*, and the boundless spiritual Qi between heaven and earth vanished into obscurity overnight, and all the exorcists became mere mortals.

300 years later, the Five Barbarians traversed the pass, a prelude to an era of great turmoil in China. They heralded the end of the world, where thousands of drought fiends stalked the night and the collapse of the Divine Land** was imminent.

Fortunately, within this long, dark night*** where silence had fallen on all magic, a lone star still glistened brightly on the horizon.

The Heart Lamp appeared, illuminating the vast expanse around it. A 16-year-old young man, who will end his life on his 20th birthday, embarked on a journey of reclaiming the spiritual Qi of the heavens and earth that had been sealed away — only four years remain.

The road ahead was filled with countless thistles and thorns, and it seemed improbable for him to succeed.

Chen Xing, “The important thing is that I’m the last exorcist in this world, yet the only magic I am capable of is emitting light. What can I do?”

Wait patiently then. When the Dinghai pearl reappears on earth, the uncertain trajectory of everyone’s fates will be completely disrupted before converging once more.

Chen Xing, “Could I be partnered with a more normal Protector martial god?”

Isn’t your Protector really skilled in fighting?

Chen Xing, “He is good at fighting, but when he loses it he’ll hit even me……”

There’s nothing that can be done about that, you can only blame yourself for losing yourself to lust.

*: Buddhist term: Abhijñā, a mysterious force that surpasses the limits of mortals gained through meditation

**: old name for China

***: figurative meaning: long period of misery and oppression

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MTL - After Mermaid O Got Su Shuang’s ScriptChapter 58 extra
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Xiao Yu transmigrated into an interstellar novel and became a mermaid Omega.
It’s just that he was unlucky, traveled to a desolate star that was about to be destroyed, and fell in love with the villain in the book.
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No one knew that this cold-blooded and merciless killing machine left the only softness in his heart to his little mermaid.
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Xiao Yu, who came across time, became the mermaid’s only salvation by accident, and was also hated by the mermaid’s enemies.
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The Omnistore SystemChapter 465: Broken worlds pieces (R-18)
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“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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