The Avalon Of Five Elements - Chapter 707: Chapter 707 - Spirit Swords

Since a young age, Su Qing already knew she was adopted and that her adopted parents didn’t like her. Hence, she learned to be independent as a child and became quite aloof. Aside from being slightly warmer toward her grandmother who she had lived with, she was indifferent to everyone else. Fearful that Su Qing’s mental health might be affected after her grandmother’s death, the doctors helped Su Qing find her biological parents and threatened them into taking Su Qing back.

However, once Su Qing returned to Su Manor, she was immediately cornered by her five older brothers, all warning her not to get too close to them! Su Qing, who held no expectations for the Su family, chose to ignore them. To everyone’s surprise, after a certain period of time, these five brothers seemed to have changed and kept hounding Su Qing.

Big Brother: This luxury mansion is for you. Do you like it? Second Brother: I heard you like sports cars. I just acquired this company, so just tell them what kind of sports car you like and they’ll make it for you. Third Brother: There’s a hundred million yuan in this card. Just ask me for more if this isn’t enough. Fourth Brother, carrying his laptop: I have scandals on everyone. You can see them all! Popular hunk Fifth Brother: I’ll scold whoever bullies you with my main social media account! When a man, who was kicked under the bed the first time they met, appeared at Su Manor’s door, asking Su Qing to proceed with their marriage as promised, all five brothers flew into a rage. “Scram! She’s our sister!” The man said, “Excuse me, she’s my wife.”

A man from modern Earth is reincarnated into baby Zeus.Arm with future knowledge of the Greek mythology even if it was little, it still covered major events in the world, he will make sure to be a better and more powerful version of the Sky Father.

The youngest Wiseman of the continent, Chu Tian, has traveled 30,000 years back in time to the age of antiquity due to an accident.

“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.]

……………………………………………………………

Dear readers! Without any ads, maybe you will prefer .