MTL - The Rest Of My Life Is For You - Chapter 2397 Lurking Super Xueba (7)

Situ Xin was highly intelligent, but because she had been an orphan since a young age, she was quite unemotional.During her last mission, she was betrayed by “one of her own.” As her soul was in the process of Soul Formation, she was saved by the Phoenix Jade Pendant she wore, allowing her to be reborn as a fetus in her mother's womb. Moreover, she carried a space with her.Let's see how she lives a different life after being reborn in 1988.A new work by Ai Guo—Rebirth: Not To Be Cannon FodderIntroduction: Mi Zhiyao, the heir of the mysterious and ancient Aristocratic family—the Mi Family, woke up from her sleep, only to inexplicably become another Mi Zhiyao from a different time and space, who committed suicide for love in the Mi Family.The same name and a similar status, but two completely different personalities.Watch as Mi Zhiyao fiercely dumps her scumbag fiancé, deals with her greedy cousin, and then leads the once-declining Mi Family back to the pinnacle of their family.

Betrayed by those he empowered. Slain at the peak of his reign. Reborn into a world unworthy of him.Tian Mo was once a supreme cultivator, a dark sovereign who ruled with absolute might and terrifying intellect. After a million years of conquest, his closest allies turned on him, stripping him of everything. But fate offered no rest. Reincarnated into modern-day Earth, he awakens in a weak mortal body—yet his memories, ambition, and ruthlessness remain untouched.In this strange new world of technology and fragile peace, Tian Mo finds new prey. With the Primordial Chaos Demonic Evil Physique and the forbidden Divine Sins Emperor Technique, he begins building his empire from the shadows. He manipulates the system, devours the corrupt, and topples the powerful—not out of justice, but vengeance... and the endless hunger for power.There are no heroes in this tale. Only a monster reborn—and the world that will burn beneath his feet.

I was reborn as the villainous daughter, Yumiela Dolknes, in the world of an otome RPG game. Yumiela only had a small role in the original story, but after defeating the Demon King, she will appear as the Hidden Boss with a bonus specs to solo fight the Hero party.

Having a gamer-spirit, I’ve been raising my level since I was a child. By the time I enter the academy where the game stage is, I was level 99.

I wanted the heroine and the capture targets to defeat the Demon King, but they just flirted around and didn’t raise their level. Moreover, they treat me as if I’m the Demon King just because I have dark hair and use dark magic.

It’s a story where I aim for peaceful days.

“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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