MMORPG: Divine Monster Transmuter - Chapter 939 - One Hand Changed The World

Lancelot Haier came from a dynasty of politicians who had ruled with tyranny and oppression. Despite those origins, he despised his family and was willing to help the citizens who had long suffered under their rule.However—before he even had the chance to change his country, the people revolted. His entire family was executed, and he was killed along with them. In his final moments, he wished for a second life—one where he could redeem himself and carry the sins of his bloodline.Unexpectedly, that wish was granted.He was reincarnated into another world as the crown prince of the Kingdom of Aragon. But in this world, everything felt backward.The country was ruled by an absolute monarch. Feudalism was the norm. Technology resembled that of the late 1700s.Fortunately, in his past life, he had earned degrees in both mechanical engineering and political science—knowledge he once hoped to use to reform his homeland. Now, it seemed he would use them here instead.He would use his modern knowledge to transform the lives of his people, industrialize his territory, gain the upper hand in technology, and form alliances with foreign nations—all while navigating the treacherous waters of internal affairs and politics.P.SWhile Reincarnated as the Crown Prince draws inspiration from historical settings, political systems, and technologies of the late 17th and early 18th centuries, this work is entirely fictional.All characters, governments, names, and events—although some may resemble real-world history—are products of the author’s imagination or are used in a fictionalized, altered form for narrative purposes.This novel is not a historical account. It should not be interpreted as a factual representation of any real monarch, nation, revolution, or political figure.Lancelot Haier, his backstory, and the alternate version of different kingdoms portrayed here are entirely original creations. The inclusion of familiar concepts like feudalism, industrialization, and political reform serves the plot and world-building, not historical documentation.Readers seeking accuracy in history are encouraged to consult verified academic sources. This story is a creative work meant for entertainment, character development, and speculative exploration of “what-if” scenarios rooted in alternate history.Thank you for reading, and I hope you will enjoy the journey.

Legend has it that there is a place called “No. 8 Pawnshop” in the fourth dimension of space, where you can pawn gold and silver jewelry, land deeds, property deeds, even your limbs, internal organs, or luck, intelligence, reason, happiness, happiness, Love, even expensive souls, to fulfill all your desires.

Pawnshop No. 8, there is only code entry, no redemption.

That’s the road of no return.

Those who go there, when they come back, will become without hands, feet, liver, stomach, and heart, and even lose the mutation of their souls.
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One day, they will become less human because of the pawn.

In the pawnshop No. 8, smiles are fake, sincerity is fake, pity is fake, everything is only a means of deception and seduction.

This article has no CP

Because of the problems of adding V to the list, the first story needs to be greatly changed. Therefore, the author apologizes for the trouble caused to readers, and has already started a separate chapter.

Content tags: Travel through time and space, infinite flow, martial arts, Hong Kong and Taiwan dramas

Search keywords: Protagonist: Ye Li ┃ Supporting roles: Ye Zhilan, Hei Ying, Lao Bai, Ye Chenyang, Shen Yue ┃ Others:

- Description from novelbuddy

Cliche. Another monster progression story. That was probably what you thought when you read the title of my story. And, I can't lie, for the most part, it probably is.But, what else am I supposed to do when I've been thrusted into a world that could kill me in an instant? There's nothing to do but to progress, to devour and evolve. You would do the same too.Such is the basis of a monster.Such is the right of any living being.So that's what I did. I ate, I killed and I hoarded anything I could get my big limbs on. Friendship, allies and love? There used to be a little god calling himself “Heaven's Equal” who spouted of such things, before I ate him. The world went pretty quiet after that.Follow my story. Read for yourself how I evolved from a little monster in a lake I thought was the ocean, all the way into the Titan Of Destruction.What To Expect:- A relatively quick progression story- Ruthless, I mean - Fang Yuag levels - of ruthless protagonist.- A system? that grows stronger along with the protagonist- Big Monsters Duking It Out, with minimal humans/beastmen/elves, etc. . .focus. Basically, monsterverse without annoying ass humans ruining the show.- Did I mention that the protagonist was pretty evil?

“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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