MTL - The Road Turns White Tonight - Chapter 272 Chapter 121: Miss Gu is Pregnant (1)

Meet Damon CrossAs a child, Damon Cross had to deal with the horrible realities of domestic violence and being homeless.He and his mother, who had always been there for him, struggled to find security.After losing his first backyard fight, When Damon gets a new MMA system, his luck changes dramatically.This mysterious system becomes his guide, improving his skills and raising him into the world of mixed martial arts.He learns more about mixed martial arts and gets better at it with the help of this system.With this renewed strength, Damon is determined to not only move up in the fight world, but also make a better future for both of them as a way to repay his mother for what she did.[YOU HAVE AWAKENED THE EMMAC SYSTEM][CONGRATULATIONS TO HOST FOR BECOMING A DOUBLE CHAMP]witness how Damon goes from a Bum to a Champ.Romance: YesFights: Yes

HE DIED BEGGING FOR LOVE. NOW HE IS BACK TO BURN THE WORLD DOWN...and maybe fall in love along the way.Genre: BL | Dark Fantasy | Revenge | 18+ | Apocalypse | Second Chance Rebirth#BL #ZombieApocalypse #EnemiesToLovers #ColdMLxBrokenMC #DarkRomance #18Plus #TraumaRecovery #Revenge #PowerAwakening #SlowBurn #SupernaturalAbilities---Everyone in the Capital knows about the notorious Greyson family—wealthy, powerful, and rotten to the core.But the real scandal?The arrival of the triplet illegitimate sons, dragged into the mansion like unwanted baggage after their mother died.The younger one, Asher Greyson, became the family’s favorite punching bag: mocked, overlooked, a stain on their perfect reputation.All Asher ever wanted was to be loved.What he got instead was betrayal and a death so cold it burned.After dying at the hands of his half-sister, dissected like an animal for his rare lightning ability, Asher is reborn. But the world hasn’t ended…not yet.This time, he’s four months ahead of the outbreak.He won’t beg again.He’ll become something terrifying that the world itself will kneel down and beg for mercy.The apocalypse began with falling meteorites, shards of radioactive hell carrying the Z-virus. The purple moon will rise and black rain will follow. And from the ashes, ability users will be born…Asher will be one of them.But he’s not the only one walking through fire.Commander Caspian Winters, the Ice Emperor, is haunted by dreams of a boy with lightning scars and crimson red eyes. A boy he doesn’t remember holding as he bled out. A boy he’ll soon meet again.And when they collide, the spark is instant—dangerous, hungry, and inevitable.[The man who once haunted Asher’s final days like a ghost, untouchable and unreadable, now stands before him under the glow of the purple moon.Caspian’s gloved hand tilts his chin up.“You’re not what I expected,” Caspian murmurs, voice low and cold.Asher’s lips curl faintly, eyes glowing crimson.“And yet,” Caspian whispers, “You're exactly what I want.”---“Why do you keep looking at me like that?” Asher’s voice breaks on the question.Caspian doesn’t blink.“Because every time I look at you…” he says, stepping closer, “…I feel like I’ve already lost you.”]Asher swore he’d never trust again. But Caspian’s ice is the only thing that can soothe the storm inside him.Let the world burn.Let the dead rise.This time, Asher Greyson is taking back everything, his power, his revenge, and maybe… his heart.

Her revenge required his resources. His price was her surrender.She ran from a gilded cage. He’s the only man who can give her the keys to her revenge—and the one who knows how to make her beg for his touch.Her only weapon is a job at Daki Tech, where she finds herself at the mercy of her childhood rival, the ruthless billionaire Reomen Daki.He offers her a deal: his resources for her vengeance, in exchange for her absolute submission in a brutal professional war that bleeds into nights of white-hot tension.Their every clash is a battle of wills laced with searing attraction, a dangerous game where the lines between hatred and hunger blur.To burn her family's world to the ground, she must first play with the one man who knows how to make her burn.

“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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