MTL - True Marvel World - Chapter 485 Destroyer through the universe

While reading a novel, Fu Erdie thought more than once that if she arrived in an apocalyptic world, she could only wait for death.

The cars could not be driven, roads could not be recognized, they could not even cook food.

There was also physical strength involved…there was no need for her to encounter a zombie because with just a sudden drop of temperature, she could get a cold and fever and die from it.

As a useless person of the new century, she sincerely hoped that the whole world would be prosperous and free of disease and calamity. At the same time, she could just draw at home and earn living expenses while muddling through.

As a result, God played a joke on her.

After a shower of rain, the world changed. There were zombies and dead plants everywhere.

She looked down from a window on the 10th floor and saw the crowd panicking. The cars rammed and blocked the road, and the small noodle shop she often went to was now stained with blood… Everything pulled back Fu Erdie from her fantasy.

The world had truly changed.

Fu Erdie decided to go out to find her relatives, and she would bet on whether she would become a zombie or an alien. She gathered her courage and opened the door, then stepped back and closed it. The zombie neighbors in the corridor were horrible! It is impossible to fight zombies, you can only wait to die in a wretched manner. And any chance, there was a lot of stored food at home that she could eat for a month.

But her ending was probably one of the two choices she had in her mind, to die now or die in a month. And she chose to lay down and continue her everyday normal life. She would just wait to meet the upcoming water and electricity cuts.

On the first day, everything was the same. The next day, everything was the same. The next day after, everything was still the same. The next…

A month later, it was time to pay the utility bill. The internet got disconnected and she did not pay the bill. The rest of the building was pitch black.

But her room was still bright.

The flush toilet could be used as usual. The natural gas could be used for her luxurious bathing. The small kumquats, small peppers, and shallots planted and grown on the balcony even thrived at a rate that did not conform to the laws of nature.

Fu Erdie suddenly found out that she had not mutated, but her own house had mutated?!

- Description from Novelupdates

Here, only those with spiritual roots can cultivate while those with mortal roots are destined to stay mortal.

Mo Wuji only has mortal roots, but will he only remain as a mortal?

Raised on earth to be the ultimate playboy, Ryan finds himself traversing into another world, being the only male on the planet able to cultivate.

Men are used as little more than servants, but a select few are born with the power to be enhancers.

Enhancers seed has special properties that help cultivators rise in levels, but it looks like all the men on this planet have severe erectile dysfunction...

With Ryan's devilishly good looks and skills, will his previous experience being a one-pump chump be enough take the world by storm? Or will his end be as fast as he is and come to a finish prematurely?

“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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