I Transmigrated As A Prison Guard And Suppressed The Princess - Chapter 1366

In a world where elements lay barren and powerful wizards had abandoned their homeland a millennium ago to explore the multiverse, Sunan found himself reincarnated as a noble scion stripped of his title. This world, once brimming with magic and wonder, had fallen into a desolate state, and wizards had become mere legends.Sunan was acutely aware that after a thousand years, the elements would awaken once more, heralding the return of the wizards and ushering in a new era of prosperity. He understood that his path was clear: he must train diligently to become a wizard himself and survive until this glorious age arrived.“Resources are scarce?” he mused, determination flickering in his eyes. “Then I’ll just have to synthesize them myself.”With that thought, he activated the Synthesis Cube, a device that granted him the ability to combine materials into something new. This Cube was not just a tool; it was a symbol of his potential in this world, reflecting his status as a player in a game he once played.As he set to work, the Cube glowed with possibilities, presenting him with a myriad of options. He had a few basic materials at his disposal, remnants of his previous life and the knowledge he had accumulated from his past experiences in the game.Sunan began experimenting, combining herbs and minerals he had gathered. Each successful synthesis filled him with a sense of accomplishment, inching him closer to his goal of becoming a wizard.Days turned into weeks, and Sunan’s skills improved rapidly. He crafted potions, improved his understanding of magical theories, and honed his mental abilities through intense meditation practices. The Star Ring Meditation, one of the first techniques he mastered, allowed him to tap into the latent mental energy within himself, enhancing his cognitive functions and magical sensitivity.As he progressed, whispers of his endeavors began to circulate among the remaining noble families and the common folk. Some viewed him with suspicion, while others saw potential in the young man who dared to challenge the status quo.Sunan knew he needed allies. He began seeking out individuals who shared his vision—a return to the age of wizards. He discreetly approached the remnants of the nobility, the few who still held some influence, and began to forge connections.His reputation grew cautiously, and with it, the opportunities to gather resources and knowledge. He learned of hidden libraries, ancient texts, and artifacts that could aid in his quest.One fateful day, while exploring a forgotten ruin, he uncovered an ancient tome detailing the rituals of the wizards who had once thrived on this land. The pages contained knowledge that could accelerate his growth, including spells long lost to time.“This is it,” Sunan thought as he carefully transcribed the contents into his own notes. “With this, I can not only learn the spells but also improve my synthesis techniques.”As he delved deeper into the arcane arts, he realized that the key to his ascension lay not just in personal power but in understanding the intricate web of alliances and rivalries that defined noble society. He had to navigate these treacherous waters carefully.In the back of his mind, Sunan always remembered the impending return of the wizards. The time was coming when he would have to reveal his true potential and lead the charge into the new era.With each passing day, he grew stronger, more confident, and increasingly aware of the responsibilities that awaited him.The world was changing, and Sunan was determined to be at the forefront of that change—a wizard in a world that had forgotten what it meant to wield true power.

“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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