Blacksmith of the Apocalypse - Chapter 970. Grant May

Xiang Ye, who was working overtime and died suddenly, woke up and found that he had turned into an acre of land.

Just when he was at a loss, several big men carried a female corpse and buried it under him.

The accidental corpse dumping case made him uneasy, but then something even more shocking happened. The female corpse buried deep in the ground came to life on a certain moon hiding in the clouds at night…

“I don’t want to be a paradise, I want to be the most ferocious and most evil in this world.”

PS: It is probably the story of an acre of wasteland becoming a fine.

- Description from novelbuddy

In 2025, the mysterious “Virus Z” appeared in the Russian city of Sevastopol, transforming citizens into ravenous zombies. What was first thought to be a simple epidemic quickly revealed itself to be the most threatening pandemic in human history.Confident at first that they could stop this new pandemic, the world's governments failed to grasp the scale of the threat. As a result, China and Korea were among the first to fall. Then India, then Russia, until the whole Asian continent had collapsed. With no army able to stop the zombie tide, all of Afro-Eurasia succumbed and became a massive uninhabitable zone. In the end, only nature's impassable borders—the oceans—halted the spread of Virus Z.Ten years later, the world is divided into two zones: the forbidden Black Zone, where the infection is still present, and the White Zone, home to the world's survivors and refugees. The White Zone survives only due to Dr. Goldberg's “Genesis Project”—the creation of living biological weapons immune to Virus Z. These people, whose DNA has been modified to make them super-powerful, are known to the world as “Hunters.”Follow the story of Alexandre, a young American of modest origins and appearance, who becomes a novice Hunter and joins the most brutal and mysterious training ground imaginable—Hunter Academy!-------------------------------------------Tag : Action, Adventure, System, Cultivation,SuperPower, School, Gore, WeakToStrong, Apocalypse.

“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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