MTL - I Became the Pet of the Five Bosses - Chapter 446 Ji Qinglin is already dead

A mechanical engineer Poul Nielsen along with his best friend Jonathan Axelsen a civil engineer died after a truck crashed at the coffee shop where they were hanging out and got transmigrated in a late 19th-century parallel world, in the country of Avalonia. It was at the height of the second industrial revolution and to survive daily, they’ll have to work like others to earn pennies to get by the day. However, the two didn’t settle for less. They want to be the Edison, the Chrysler, the Rockefeller, the Carnegie, the Ford, and the Westinghouse of this new world.

This world doesn’t seem to have electricity? Then let’s start an electric power distribution company. Light is not enough, let’s build appliances and motors as well to make our business profitable.

This world doesn’t seem to have vehicles and ground transportation relies solely on horse-drawn carriages and trains. Let’s start an Automotive Manufacturing Company.

Huge infrastructure projects such as metro stations, skyscrapers, bridges, tunnels, and dams? Let’s start a Civil Engineering firm and build miracles in this world.

There is always money in guns, they say. Fine, let's invest in another venture, the arms manufacturing company.

And before we even know it, we will be the richest men in the world. However, the path won’t be easy as fierce competitions are up ahead. Robber barons who would do everything just to crush their competitors. Predator against predator, and government intervention.

Yu Youyao had a nightmare. In her dream, she was married to the Marquis’ son, Song Mingzhao, and had become a mere medicine-human for her third sister, Yu Jianjia. After having blood extracted from her heart for three years, Yu Youyao’s life was nearing its end, so her wrist was slit and she died just like that.

Upon waking up, her heart thumped wildly and she decided to choose the first man she saw to escape that tragic fate. Thus, she clung onto the leg of her maternal cousin who had come all the way from the You Kingdom. “Cousin, I’ll be good to you for the rest of my life.”

Zhou Linghuai looked at the girl nestled in his arms. She had a lovely face and puppy eyes. Despite his usual ruthlessness, he suddenly found himself unable to reject her. And so, he became Yu Youyao’s protector, helping her to take revenge on those who bullied her, fend off the schemes of others, and reject all of her suitors. He even helped her attain glory and magnificence.

Once Yu Youyao reached adulthood, events started to progress according to her dream. The Marquis’s son, Song Mingzhao, had indeed come to request for her hand in marriage. However, Zhou Linghuai pressed Yu Youyao against the wall and said in a low voice, “You’re mine. You can’t marry anyone else!”

The Blood Warrior of the Ungpae Association, who created a sea of blood wherever he went, made the world of the Forces of Evil possible.

The Nine Great Sects and the Six Great Clans joined forces to fight him, but were unable to stop him.

Four Great Warriors, who were Murim’s last hope, appeared.

The four of them fought against the Blood Warrior and eventually defeated him at Mount Song.

The time has come for the legacy of the Blood Warrior to rise once again.

“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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