Reborn: Instead of Chasing the School Beauty, I Chased Her Mother - Chapter 32 - 0 Auntie Rao, let me drink for you.

A person from our world is transported into the universe of the Avatar animated series. The protagonist's adventures begin in the Spirit World, in a form familiar to this world.“So this is the afterlife. It's not what I imagined. Strangely, my memory remains, but it feels one-sided—all the information is impersonal. No name, no loved ones, as if they never existed. I remember being a middle-aged man when, for some unknown reason, I ended up here. My entire life flashed before my eyes, but the emotions I once felt are gone...”Покорение стихий by EvopalanTranslated with LLMNote: when translated terms like magic / mage / magician were used instead of bending / bender / and chiI'm going through fixing the issueIf you want to support me and get exclusive transitions check out my patreon.com/PHINJO just getting started more to come.Planning on making creating an audio series for the fanfic.

Spiritual energy ecovery brought about fundamental changes throughout the entire world, and posed an imminent threat to it. Chen Yang died in an accident and reincarnated to become a tiny koi fish inside the fish tank in his own home. Just as Chen Yang complained about the unfairness of destiny, he awakened the Evolution System. Thus, with his sister’s feeding, Chen Yang started his insane evolution. As the whole world sank deep into apocalypse, Chen Yang descended from the skies to crush everything.

He had evolved from a tiny koi fish to a gargantuan dragon. “This world shall be ruled by me!” When the fish playing in the waters was frightened by the net, it jumped over the Dragon’s Gate to become a real dragon. This is a story of how a loli raised a giant dragon, and dominated everything.

“Obtaining the topmost degree of talent in sword arts in the world requires giving up 72 years of lifespan, which leaves you with only five more years of your life. At the same time, you will never be able to feel love, kinship, and friendship, and you’ll end up leading a lonely life until your death, unable to procreate, or to have any descendants.“From now onwards, everything related to happiness in the human world shall no longer be of your concern. Are you willing to accept this?”“Hahahaha, I’m already alone bereft of all support, my hopes dashed to pieces, shouldering only absolutely irreconcilable grudge and hatred, why would I disagree? Why would I not want it? I couldn’t ask for anything better!!”His sword sweeps across the Divine Continent for seven days and nights, moving 90,000 miles through the starry skies, unhindered.He slays saints and buddhas in Heaven, slaughters demons and devils in Hell, sweeping away all the grievances in his heart.

“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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