MTL - Wall Street Legend - Chapter 426 The birth of the iPhone

In an era when the power of Fire Magic was considered to have reached its limit, one girl began researching nuclear fusion.

Dad promises that I will be always there with you, my little baby.

It was Ye Qian's promise to his child who was yet to be born.

However, fate didn't seem to agree as it took his life in the form of an accident before he could see his little one's face.

The promise that was made to his wife and daughter reverberated as he left the world, just two months before the child was born.

He died, but his soul transmigrated to another body in a different realm.

5000 years of deliberate cultivation in the heavenly realm as a venerable, helped him to reveal the secrets that could pave way for his return to the mortal world.

Finally, he achieved the ultimate power to break through the spatial tear and returned to earth.

Don't worry, my baby. Dad is on the way to meet you, He chanted as he confronted the tribulation. Even when earthly suppression depleted his cultivation, he frets not.

All he wants is to meet his family and fulfil the word he once gave to his daughter and her mother.

Let's accompany Ye Qian in his journey to search for his family and witness his efforts to keep his wife and daughter happy as he helps them to cultivate, for an eternity together.

Yuan Xiao was reborn. Only after her death did she discover that she was living in a book. In the book, she was a fake heiress who did terrible things and made the real female protagonist look like a good person. After being reborn, Yuan Xiao decided to become a scholar. As long as she studied hard enough, she’d repeatedly get the opportunity to draw prizes and stop herself from being controlled by the storyline. She wanted to change her life. Yuan Xiao did not want the terrible fate of her past life to repeat itself.

She wanted a life that belonged to her! Other students looked down on her. She made sure to win as many prizes in competitions as she could and consistently claimed the number one spot in school. Some people suspected she might have forged her educational accomplishments due to her young age. She directly solved the toughest questions in the world to prove those people wrong. Did somebody mock her for not being able to do anything else but study? She’d show them her world-class piano-playing…

Yuan Xiao went down the scholarly path and never looked back. She was no longer the bad student she used to be. The smart student in school, who nobody dared to offend, forced her into a corner and nervously gave her a lollipop. “I just gave you a lollipop, the thing that I like the most. When will you be my girlfriend?” Yuan Xiao tapped on his chin and chuckled. “I’ll be your girlfriend if you get into Q College with me.”

“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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