MTL - Han’s Son is Not a Slave - Chapter 17 hero

On the day he experienced the most shocking betrayal of his life, as if that wasn't enough, he was beaten half-dead—and that was when the Infinite Wealth System awakened within him.[System Activation Complete!][Congratulations, Jayden Cole. You have been chosen as the Host of the Infinite Wealth System.][Now let’s fix your miserable life!]Thus, the Infinite Wealth System changed his life.The system tasked him with completing many challenging missions—some that could even threaten his life or land him in grave trouble—but the rewards were mighty![Task #002: Buy the most expensive item in a luxury store. Pay in cash. Say, ‘Keep the change.’][Reward: 1 Million Dollars!]---[Task #004: Slap your troublesome landlord with a rent receipt and say, ‘I just bought your building.’][Reward: 5 Million Dollars!]-------[Task #005: Take a beautiful rich lady you never knew to a 5-star hotel and spend one week with her. You must nut her twice or more!][Reward: 20 Million Dollars!]---[Task #007: Attend a luxury auction. Outbid a billionaire on a Rolex and walk away without collecting it.][Reward: 15 Million Dollars!]---As the world’s most dangerous and outrageous missions begin piling up—from dismantling corporations to outwitting billionaires’ most important workers and daughters—one thing becomes clear:Jayden won’t just climb the ladder of success. He’ll set fire to it and build his own throne at the top.Power. Vengeance. Wealth. Women.And one man bold enough to claim them all.

This was a fragmented and disorganized world, this was a place that had been forgotten.

Humanity achieved dominion over the galaxy long ago.Once that was accomplished, they turned their ingenuity inwards. With their prowess over biological engineering, they transformed themselves into deific beings now called the Gene Tyrants. For centuries, the Gene Tyrants terrorized the galaxy, designing and abusing their genetically engineered servants and serfs as their whims took them.No tyranny can last forever, though, and the Gene Tyrants were eventually overthrown. The rebels discovered a strange light of the mind called Aether, which gave them the strange and fantastical powers they needed to eradicate their creators. Once that was done, however, that by no means meant peace.In the thousand years since, the face of the galaxy has changed. The most powerful human civilization is called the Supremacy, the homeland of 'might makes right'. In the Supremacy, a crime committed by the strong is no crime at all. With their military strength and mastery of Aether, the Supremacy has spread across the galaxy -- with the other powers able to do little but stall their advance. This struggle has developed into a cold war, and that cold war has frozen over for years now.Dragan Hadrien, a low-level administrator in the Supremacy, cares nothing for any of this. Dragan's primary concern is getting himself a promotion and taking it easy for the rest of his days. When a mysterious prisoner is brought aboard his ship, he thinks he has found the means to do just that.How naive of him.

“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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