Path of Medicine With a System - Chapter 277: Face like a demon’s and endless regret

A young man who had longed for stories of good and evil since childhood lost his life in a tragic accident and was reincarnated as a boy named Chrono Mak in another world.

He learned that in this other world, there is magic and witchcraft, and depending on how you train them, you can become as strong as you want to be, so he decided to become the strongest demon king in order to recreate the story of justice and evil he once dreamed of.

It was well known that in every novel, there would always be a supporting male character like this:

They were either crazy about the female lead or willing to work.

Even if they gave themselves a green hat, they were ready to.

The female lead was misunderstood by the male lead, so he came to explain.

The female lead had career problems, so he came to help.

In the end, he only got a sentence from the female lead: “I just think of you as a brother.”

He could be used against the male lead. In the end, the male and female leads ruined him as the strong prevailed over the weak.

After Gu Jingyu became one of those miserable supporting male characters in the novel…

The heroine of the domineering novel said: “I just think of you as a brother.”

Gu Jingyu: “Thank you. My mom only gave birth to me.”

The heroine from the modern-day time-travel novel: “This is a vegetarian snack that I have carefully developed for you. I think you’ll like it.”

Looking at the spicy veggie meat stick in the heroine’s hand, Gu Jingyu fell into silence. Did he look like a fool?

The useless protagonist in the immortal cultivation novel said: “For thirty years, people east of the river prosper, then for another thirty years those on the west prosper: life is full of ups and downs. Don’t bully the poor youth! You wait, I will definitely come back to take revenge.”

Gu Jingyu directly imprisoned the protagonist until he ascended.

- Description from Novelupdates

“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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