MTL - The Almighty Boss Lost His Vest Again Today - Chapter 177 School of Aviation

Mu Xi was reborn back to the age of eighteen, and became a waste of women disguised as men and abandoned by the family.

waste? Say who?

The mysterious master of metaphysics is she,

She is the dean of the medical world,

The great god of the game industry and the top of the hacker world is also her…

With countless vests, she suddenly became an almighty boss who turned her hands into clouds and covered her hands into rain.

*

“Mu Xi, as long as you come back, grandpa is willing to pass on the position of the head of the family to you.”

Mu Xi raised his eyelids lazily, looked at the old Patriarch Mu who was looking at him expectantly, and said word by word, “I don’t care!”

*

“Big brother! Big brother! I heard that you can do anything.”

Mu Xi smiled modestly, “I can’t say that, at least I won’t have children yet.”

The next moment, a figure passed by and carried away Mu Xi who was being interviewed, “Mrs. Ling, are you implying that I’m not working hard enough?”

*

Let’s see how the trash “juvenile” succeeded in counterattack and reached the pinnacle of life.

This article is one-on-one, double-strength, and cool.

- Description from novelbuddy

Synopsis: Yang Chen, the inheritor of the divine throne of Hades, was separated from his family at a young age and sold to a foreign assassin organization. Enduring the darkest of worlds, he eventually returned to his homeland incognito. Intending to live a low-profile life as a street vendor selling lamb skewers, fate took an unexpected turn when he married a well-known local corporate CEO. Hoping for a quiet existence, he found himself drawn into the role of a guardian knight due to the presence of beautiful women from various walks of life. As he navigates through these connections, his past experiences and former comrades resurface. Inadvertently, he delves into the world of cultivation in China and uncovers the essence of this world.

“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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- Description from novelbuddy