MTL - Data Cultivation System - Chapter 771 : Ascension (finale)

Living in a world of cultivators is like walking on the edge of a knife. If you slip, the best result is a deep cut, but the likely result is death. Su Fang is brought into this world completely unprepared, knowing nothing, and lacking any skills to help him. This means only one thing. He is destined to die.Fortunately, Su Fang is immortal. Not because he cannot die, but because when he does, he un-dies.In this world, everyone is born with a Golden Finger to help them survive. Su Fang’s blessing is to return to the beginning of his journey after every death. His System provides him credits upon death with which he can purchase absolutely anything, but he is only rewarded enough credits to help him return to the point he died. To advance further, he must rely on himself.This is both a time loop story and a xianxia story. At different points, one element is more pronounced than the other, but it is always a combination of both.This can also be considered a slice-of-life story. It isn’t about saving the world or defeating a big bad guy. It is about living life in an unfamiliar world where it can sometimes seem like everyone is out to kill or enslave you.Expectations:-Detailed cultivation and crafting.-Limited fighting scenes through most of the story.-Slow cultivation progression. Each level will be explored in detail.-Somewhat unreliable narrator. Cultivation affects the mind, and it will affect the MC’s perceptions of the world. Facts can generally be trusted, but many times there are layers beyond what the narrator sees.-Xianxia tropes with a world built around them so they make sense. Why do young masters go crazy shouting “You dare!”? Why do their guards willing throw themselves to their death against someone with significantly higher cultivation? All that and more is explained.-This is a story of cultivation. It has cultivation in the xianxia sense, working to gain strength and power, but, more importantly, it is a story about cultivating the self. Finding ways to make yourself a better version of you.New chapters drop 5 days a week, M-F, at 7:00AM Central Time (US)

Lin Xing has the ability to turn back time.Whenever he faces a life-threatening danger, he would return to the past.He falls to his death, and returns 5 seconds earlier.He is killed by a falling object, and returns 1 minute earlier.He is struck down by a dump truck, and returns 20 minutes earlier.Then one day... he finds himself having returned to one year ago.

DING![Ist Skill Devour Successful]______“They say a man's skills are honed over a lifetime, but what if he could devour them all in an instant?”Ryuen Takeru, a skilled, retired assassin, decides to pursue a better job that would keep him away from the dark life he once led.However, after a while, that peace was shattered when an unexpected train ride derailed reality itself, throwing him into a world and a life he had always hated.A world teetering on the brink of ruin, destroyed by an apocalypse as a result of the unending war between multiple races.Unfortunately, the post-apocalypse had already begun.Ryuen finds himself captured, exchanged, and made to serve kings of different nations.Yet fate had more in store for him.A devastating twist, capable of destroying or elevating him—the one thing he had overlooked as normal until the moment he was informed.A curse.Possible reincarnation?[Skill Devourer Activated: Plunder, Consume, Adapt, Evolve.]Nevertheless, for everything given, something must be taken—or perhaps sacrificed.

“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 .