MTL - Can You Love Me? - Chapter 524 New year, want a baby

The technology fanatic Huo Tian from the future world died because of a research accident and transmigrated into the body of a fake rich daughter from a wealthy family.

Before the real daughter of the family came back, she was the treasure of the family, and everyone treated her like a princess. After the real daughter returned, her status plummeted, and they treated her as an outsider.

Living in a wealthy family that valued blood relations the most, Huo Tian, an unrelated outsider, was given a hard time. Everyone hated and despised her. Leaving behind a letter of severance, Huo Tian left the Huo Family on her own accord without any lingering reluctance for her once luxurious life.

She started a new life with the original Huo Tian’s biological mother and uncle, who had been abandoned by the Huo Family’s real rich daughter. She started a business from scratch.

With her understanding of the future world and her grasp of futuristic technology, Huo Tian quickly became famous in the business circle and established a research company that was renowned throughout the country. All the researches from her company were ten years more advanced than everywhere else in the world. With every research published, the whole world would be taken aback and impressed by how miraculous it was.

As time passed, Huo Tian became increasingly successful. Just as she was getting used to being called a fake rich daughter, the secret that her biological mother hid was out of the bag—Huo Tian’s biological father was the head of the noblest and the most powerful wealthy family at an international level, the Xi Family.

Compared to the Xi Family, the Huo Family was nothing but insignificant. The fake rich daughter in everyone’s eyes and the joke among the wealthy circle suddenly became a real rich daughter of the most influential family. Moreover, the head of the Xi Family seemed to be spoiling his long-lost daughter to the heavens...

My name is Zhang Yanhang, just an ordinary Awakener and a part-time college student living a monotonous life, following the routine of school, cultivation, and home. I neither smoke nor drink; my only hobby is observing humanity during moments when time stands still.I thought my dull life would continue forever, but one night, as I lay in bed ready to sleep, I unexpectedly stumbled upon something interesting.【Enter the Ashen World?】【Option One: Yes (Successfully enter the Ashen World and gain the ability to digitize your body as well as ways to become stronger, the price might be oversleeping and being late for school tomorrow.)】【Option Two: No (Refuse to enter the Ashen World but feel it's a waste to sleep immediately, so decide to stay up all night gaming and cultivating, the price might be oversleeping and being late for school tomorrow.)】【Option Three: Ignore for Now (Suggested for those with difficulty making decisions, you will agonize over whether to enter the Ashen World and will only fall asleep at two in the morning, the price might be oversleeping and being late for school tomorrow.)】ps: The protagonist is not saintly, is decisive and ruthless, and thinks differently from the average person. Please refrain from criticism if this is not to your taste.

“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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