Naruto: The Hidden Protector - Chapter 142: The First Human Sage

All Pete wanted was to be buried in wine grapes. Was that too much to ask?Now he's in a fantasy world, far from home, and stuck underground in the body of a smelly dwarf with fantastic facial hair. The worst part though? The swill that the dwarves are falling all over themselves to drink. Its flat, it's watery, and it has the alcohol content of a rancid coconut. Can Pete save the dwarves from their own Sour fate, or will he be forever doomed to plink his pickaxe away in hopes that he hits the mother lode. Come for the cozy fantasy, stay for the beer puns that will leave you hop-ping mad! A bubbly slice of life LitRPG with love, laughter, and a little melancholy, just like drinking a bottle of Whitbier on the beach. Has some monster fights but no real gore. No elves or harems allowed.

The first time Yan Zhaoge crossed worlds, he landed in a martial warrior civilization that was at the peak of prosperity. He ended up in the book storage building of the the Divine Palace, which collected and preserved the classics of the entire world from all fields of knowledge. However, a world class calamity struck soon after and even the Divine Palace was destroyed.

Yan Zhaoge’s soul once again crossed over, but this time he arrived in the same world, except countless years have passed.

With his brain full of rare books and classics from the era of peak prosperity, Yan Zhaoge’s second crossing over to the present era was like a gamer who was used to playing hell mode suddenly finding himself playing the game on easy.

That was just way too awesome.

But before that, he needs to fix a certain problem.

“I’m not a main character? In fact, I’m actually the main character’s love rival and the antagonistic Mr. Perfect senior martial brother? This script is wrong!”

PS from author: ‘History’s Number One Founder’ is already complete with 4.6 million characters, I welcome you readers who have favourited and fed my book until it became fat to enjoy this book as well.

“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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“Congratulations, you're now a Handler. You'll serve the state with utmost loyalty and pledge your life to its causes.”That was what Trent heard just before being handed an envelope—and a whole lot of disrespect.Mocked for his poor combat performance and labeled pathetic by his superiors, Trent finishes Handler training humiliated and underestimated. But they made one mistake: they judged him by his strength, not his mind.What Trent lacks in brute force, he makes up for with a rare genius in finance.So when a mysterious voice speaks to him in the bathroom—“Hello, Host. This is Ave-511e69.”His world flips upside down.Now equipped with Ave, a mysterious financial system that seems to know everything, Trent is about to rise through the ranks in a way no Handler ever has.Through stock markets, black-market missions, and calculated chaos, he will prove that money is the greatest weapon of all.They looked down on him. Now, they’ll look up in fear.