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... 'That's strange, I definitely heard that voice, and it seemed familiar too..'

As Max sat there thinking about it, a person suddenly appeared in his room. Max already knew this guy by now, he was the one who had stopped him multiple times from escaping. He was one of the guards keeping a watch on him.

"What's up? I am sure, I didn't do anything for you to pay me a visit.." Max asked him with a curious look on his face.

The man stared at the Max, but there was no effect on ...

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Until he became the lowest-ranked master, his lonely and luckless life never changed.

Suddenly one day, a descendant injected him with a nanomachine, and the machine started ‘speaking’ to him.

[I am the seventh generation Nanomachine manufactured by Sky Cooperation, and I am operating as a central nerve connected to your brain.]

“What? What are you talking about?”

This was beyond the boy’s knowledge, he turned pale.

The Nanomachine linked to his cerebrum realized the User was not understanding a single word it said.

“Who are you, and why are you doing this to me?”

[“I am the seventh generation Nanomachine.]

“Nano Mashin?”

[Yes, Nanomachine.]

The boy’s face hardened.

Mashin was the deity the Mashin Religion worshipped, along with the Sacred Fire.

The religions’ Master communicated with Mashin.

“Um, are you really Mashin?”

The boy knelt down and asked with a trembling voice. At this, the Nanomachine attached to his cerebrum realized it had been misunderstood.

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I struggled until I was thirty-eight and couldn’t afford a house. I had to pay a gift of three hundred thousand in advance to get married. I lived frugally and frugally for most of my life until my liver was broken. But where was the money? Who made the money?

Jiang Qin, who harbored countless grievances, was reborn at the age of eighteen. The only thought he had when he opened his eyes was to start a business and make money.

The first step is to snatch back the love letter you sent, turn it over, and write three lines in the school belle’s astonished eyes:

You can’t work for anything, and you can stay with a rich woman if you can.

You can make more money if you lose it, but you can make more money if you lose your conscience!

Social animals, never slaves!

As for love? Dogs don’t even talk about that stuff!

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The Scattered Arts, lost pages of manuals gathered from scattered archives from all across the world. Known also as the Old Arts, these are what remained from a vast collection of knowledge that was destroyed during the war that almost wiped out all of mankind. But we prevailed. Mankind rebuilt and reached for the stars.

Wang Xuan, a student of the Old Arts Research Department, had read about tales of individuals capable of inhuman feats, of practitioners ascending to the realm of immortality. But in an age of technological wonders, not many would believe in such tales. Only the truly desperate, and with the wealth and resources at their disposal, could even dream of unlocking the secrets behind these tales.

Corporate greed. This was how the research into the old arts started. But with new discoveries made in the New World, and the Old Arts declared obsolete in the way of the ‘New Arts’, the studies into the realm of the ancients is coming to an end.

Are the immortals real? Can mankind truly break its shackle of mortality and escape death? These are questions that Wang Xuan desperately sought to answer. He was determined to walk down the path of the Old Arts even as he reached for the stars beyond.

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