Heroes of Marvel - Chapter 1310: Attack

“What those edited and conceptualized main characters call ultimate and full power is but a grain of sand under the steps of my weakest subordinates.” Quote from Patrick.

Patrick, a regular arrogant kid with extremely attractive looks and a high IQ, lived in the alternate version of Earth. But in this alternate Earth, there were awakened humans who possessed abilities beyond the scope of human knowledge. Yet, despite living in an awakened world, Patrick didn't awaken any ability.

But just when he was annoyed with his unawakened life, he acquired an unknown entity called a system. With that, it opened a gateway of infinite possibilities that caused the existence of the story “GOD OF ALL SYSTEMS.”

She was reborn as the antagonist of a fantasy novel, a child who bears her family’s resentment.

As it stands, her fate is to end up on the guillotine at the hands of the furious villagers!

Kynemeia, for the sake of a comfortable future, plans to gather some Munchkins to govern the fief. However, there’s one problem…

Kynemeia stared blankly at the boy sitting in the underground prison.

“…Why?”

“I got caught.”

She’s on the receiving end of an unwanted obsession from a suspicious mage?!

This is the story of the struggles of a Grand Duke’s daughter who wishes to transform her life
and the Munchkin mage who feigns innocence!

*Munchkin: a Korean slang for a character with overpowered skills.

I couldn’t even clear the 2D version, now to clear the game in reality?Maybe I’ll have to live here for the rest of my life.Well, even that won’t be easy.– A player found himself in the game, Dungeon and Stone, as a savage barbarian.To keep his secret, he must become the mask – must make himself be seen as more savage, more fearless than any others – a paragon of his race in the eyes of the whole world.Back on earth, in the empty darkened room, the quiet computer again began to whir. Text began to appear on the black screen.「Synchronization complete. 」

“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.]

……………………………………………………………

Dear readers! Without any ads, maybe you will prefer .