Building An Empire Starting From The Labor Camp In Exile - Chapter 11: Early morning work out

It was a time where demons roamed the earth and chaos reigned. The story took place in Luoyang, the legendary capital of the times. During the night, one could find people holding on to their food with dear lives as they faced off against stray dogs, people with weapons in hand vowing to fight against Fate to their very last breath. There was bloodshed everywhere as some died meaningless deaths, while the strong tyrannized the weak and the truth was frequently hidden. Some of the citizens had completely lost their mind, while some died on their travels. Most importantly, the words of a certain youth caused much panic in the human world. It was a time of little warmth as nights in the capital were frequently accompanied by gusts of wind and rain, and it would be covered with snow during winter. Such were the days…

- Description from Novelupdates

Xi Nan had loved Cheng Yi for ten years.After graduating from college, she confessed her feelings but faced rejection.Eventually, one went abroad and the other ventured into the entertainment industry.Five years later, Xi Nan became a highly sought-after celebrity in the entertainment circle, and Cheng Yi rose to be the youngest head of the Cheng family, known as a business genius by the media.An arranged marriage contract reconnected them once again.Rumors had always spoken of Cheng Yi, the CEO of Yi Feng Group, as decisive and aloof, a unique figure with almost no romantic scandals, yet he attracted countless admirers.However, the latest news drove all the high-society ladies in Jing City mad.Reports claimed that Cheng Yi was secretly married and had even commissioned a famous international jewelry designer for a priceless engagement ring.One day, as Xi Nan was watching television at home, Cheng Yi called her, asking her to retrieve a document from his study.Finding the document on the desk was easy for Xi Nan.But at the same moment, she discovered Cheng Yi’s secret—a small black box inside a cabinet.It contained a diamond ring, easily seven to eight carats, fittingly described as a 'pigeon's egg'.Xi Nan tried the ring on, and it fit perfectly.In that instant, something deep within seemed to blossom, her eyes swirling with a layer of subtle surprise and bewilderment.

Chen Chao dreamt of becoming a powerful immortal cultivator, flying on his sword and vanquishing enemies with daoist magic. His hopes were dashed when he discovered that he had absolutely no talent for immortal cultivation.

Refusing to submit to his fate, Chen Chao joined the ranks of countless other talentless martial artists and embarked on the path of martial cultivation, a path scorned by the immortal cultivators.

In this era of strife where martial cultivators, immortal cultivators, and demonic cultivators wrestled for hegemony, Chen Chao will either rise to the top or fall into eternal damnation.

“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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