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... orld. Although there was no territorial dispute in the ACG world, having a force was still very important. For example, when a rare item appeared in the wild, having a Mount Legion would increase the chance of getting the item. Thus, between big cities, the ball battle of mount legions became a means of military confrontation.


Luhua City was just a small city, but it suddenly had a Mount Legion that completed ball battle training. This was very shocking! Of course, the credit for thi ...

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Argon Raze, the best swordsman of the continent. He was dubbed the Sword Saint due to his unparalleled skills with the sword. He lived a life of endless victories in duels and challenges. However, all that came to an end when he challenged a young mage. He lost his winning streak and his life at the hands of this young mage.Seemingly ready to accept his death, he found himself inside an unknown forest after being swallowed by an immense light. He was still alive, he realized. Although, he also realized he wasn't the same Argon Raze as before.Feel free to support me on Paypal or Patreon with five or more chapters ahead.

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As soon as Zhao Huai opened his eyes, he realized that he had become the last crown prince of the Great Yan Dynasty. However, he wasn't excited about it because the Great Yan Dynasty had already perished. In the current world, the New Dynasty reigned supreme. He had fled south and settled down, becoming a small pawnshop owner. From being the crown prince of the Great Yan Dynasty to an unknown pawnshop owner, the only thing Zhao Huai could rely on was a golden copper coin he received when he first transmigrated here. By flipping the coin, he could receive instructions in his mind, know the outcome of things, and predict the fortune and misfortune he would face.

In front of you is a mysterious ring. Do you accept it? The instruction you receive is “fortune.” You accept the ring and obtain the destiny of “Good Fortune.” In front of you is a marriage proposal. Do you agree to marry her? The instruction you receive is “misfortune.” You choose to marry her and obtain the destiny of “Divine Insight.” In the chaos caused by demons and monsters in the Central State, you have achieved great cultivation. Do you want to emerge from seclusion? The instruction you receive is “fortune.” You defeat the demon lord with a single sword, shaking the world, and obtain the destiny of “Sword Saint.”

As the New Dynasty was established, its foundation was unstable. Demons and monsters caused disturbances, and people's hearts were unsettled. The world was filled with countless bones, and small countries were on the brink of collapse. Foreign tribes on the border were watching closely. Even in this prosperous era, there were countless plagues. This was a world where cultivation was revered, and Zhao Huai knew that only by becoming an immortal could he protect himself. While the former officials of the Great Yan Dynasty were searching everywhere for the heir of the former dynasty, attempting to restore the nation and continue the imperial legacy of the Great Yan Empire, Zhao Huai said, “Restoring the nation? It'll not be too late for me to do that after I become an immortal.”

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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.

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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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