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... he horizon, Maesinius could not tell. He tried to deny it, but it was futile, Maesinius knew himself better than anyone. He was scared. Who would not be?He soon would be leading an army , if he made a mistake thousands of soldiers would die, and after that tens of thousands will follow.Their blood and death will be on his hands.The mere thought sent shivers down his spine, this time not for the cold.

'The north shall face the greatest famine it has ever seen since bending the knee' he ha ...

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When waking up, Jiang Tian found out that it was not too late.

In his previous life, Jiang Tian was a member of Jiang family in Jinling. He suffered a disgrace that was his fiancee broke off the pledge of marriage, so he had to marry into the Zhao family. Although Zhao Xueqing, his wife was the first beauty in Hangzhou, he always beat and scolded her. A few years later, he went through a family upheaval, and his loved ones died one after another. With despair, guilt and hatred, Jiang Tian jumped from a cliff. But he did not die. Instead, he started a cultivation journey for as long as ten thousand years in another space.

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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.

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*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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