MTL - Wanderer of Myriad Worlds - Chapter 1683 progress

Du Jiuyuan lay in a grave of love for three years. Finally, her heart was as dead as ashes, she gave up on finding love and decided to go down a career path of a strong woman. But what was going on with her ex-husband? He used to be someone whom she would only see once every four to five months. Why was he appearing in front of her now and then? When she talked to others about collaboration, he would coax her from behind. “Yuan Yuan, this person is unreliable. Let me invest in her for you, okay?”

When she got into conflict with others, he would support her from behind. “Yuan Yuan, don’t be afraid. Your husband is Ji Jinchen. Don’t worry about her.” Du Jiuyuan was speechless. “…” Please take note that it was her ex-husband who divorced her. One day, when a male colleague sent her home after a meal, she was seen by Ji Jinchen. The man blocked her at the foot of the wall and questioned her in a low voice. “Don’t be with others, otherwise… I will lose my mind.

Later, Du Jiuyuan rose to the top of her career and attracted countless suitors. One such suitor gave her a bouquet of roses and the next day, her office became a sea of flowers. Some suitors gave her desserts that could only be bought after queuing up. The day after that, her office would be flooded with desserts. Some suitors gave her a pet… Du Jiuyuan went crazy. “Ji Jinchen, if you dare to give me a house full of pets, I will fight it out with you!”

Ji Jinchen said, “Jiuyuan, forgive me for being stupid and not seeing your grievances, but you have to believe that from the moment I married you, I never thought of getting a divorce. Du Jiuyuan: I thought that the man I loved for seven years was a stone that couldn’t be covered up, but then I realized what kind of fiery heart was hidden in this stone.”

“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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