Descent of the Demon Master - Chapter 483: Captured (3)

Dual cultivation and apocalypse—words that mix like oil and water. There's nothing charming about seducing feral women on the road.

However, when Kaze Lexicon, the emperor of the Immortal Plane, got transmigrated into the past, he refused to give up his debaucherous ways—apocalypse or otherwise.

Armed with the knowledge of the future and an encyclopedia of overpowered cultivation techniques, he immediately set forth to obtain resources and build a lavish settlement to live a comfortable life dual cultivating in the apocalypse.

However, while it's obscenely protected and powerful, he finds himself in another predicament. The cultivators farming humans for their war, and the desperate humans, become enemies far more dangerous than the zombies and monsters that afflict humanity.

Join Kaze as he rebuilds his reputation from a bullied weeb, obtains wealth, builds power, starts a faction, makes lemonade, trains his people, protects his past lovers, conquers settlements, and fights humans, monsters, and cultivators, all for the sake of two obscene goals: enjoying life and building an army of engineers to bring modern technology to the higher planes.

A youth crept on the ground in a snowy night. Hours ago, his tendons were cut because the girl he liked plotted against him. A mysterious middle-aged man saved him, and a pair of gigantic purple pupils appeared in the sky. Under the thunders and lights, the rare Demon Pupils and Sacred Body were awakened. That was what he should have been.

However, in this world, strength was the only way to support a man to live. His adoptive father died for covering him. His true love fell into the abyss for saving him. He wanted to rise up, to take revenge, and to protect the ones he cared about.

Occasionally did a strange figure confuse him. Behind the huge demon pupils, he often saw a thirty thousand feet tall black figure. What was it? Who was that?

It was said that the ultimate bloodline of the universe was the Primal Chaos Divine Body. It was a divine existence which could break the heavens and annihilate the world in a second. However, this sort of divine body had been extinct ten thousand years ago.

Could it be that apart from the Sacred Body, there was another body in him?

- Description from Novelupdates

Cheng Ling, the descendant of modern martial arts, traveled to the ancient times of war, and took his family to escape from the famine, farming, practicing medicine, and doing business…

Working hard for tomorrow, only to get a place to live in this strange era after the world is stable, to stand up with dignity, instead of kneeling and begging for life.

But who knew that disguising as a man was so successful that the new dynasty left her good name everywhere.

Young Master Hou’s Mansion: Young Master Cheng is very talented, and what he said casually was the rule of the world. I must recommend him to the prince.

Guozijian sacrifice wine: Cheng Xiaoyou has a splendid beauty in his chest, and the day when the imperial examination resumes, it must be the time when he will become famous. If he can’t win the top spot, the old man will slam into a pillar to tell the sky.

Miss Xiangfu: Cheng Shenyi is a prodigy, but he has a noble character and is not interested in fame and fortune. I respect him and love him, even if I have no relationship with him, I should ask the prince’s cousin to give him a birth.

Ten Miles of Spring Breeze Hua Kui Lady: Except for the three feet of snow on your body, who in the world is matched with white clothes? In that court, were they okay with you?

With a sigh, only remote mail.

…

And the prince, who was always mentioned in passing, intentionally or unintentionally, had already quietly raised his chin.

Prince: My brother, my confidant, what do you say?

Cheng Ling:  …

- Description from novelbuddy

“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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