The Richest Man In the World: Starting From Receiving 7 Billion Red Envelopes - Chapter 687: Fifteen years in the blink of an eye, emperor level!

What does “being perfect” mean to you? To Hashidate Yuuto, it means everything. All his life long he strived for perfectness until a single incident occured in middle school that ruined his plans of being perfect: He pooped in front of the whole class and parents. Believing, that his reputation was destroyed and that he would never be able to reach perfectness anymore, he wished that the incident never occured. This is when a mysterious Goddess named Maki offers him a button that allows him to go back in time.

Based on the popular Vocaloid song “” by kemu.

A woman with heavy makeup said, “My husband's net worth is over a hundred million, and all I need to do every day is go shopping for beauty treatments. I don't need to work at all!”

Suri Drew said, “Hmph, my husband's liquid assets alone are a billion. Did I mention it?”

A sexy lady said, “My husband is a master of judo and karate. I feel so safe with him!”

Suri Drew said, “My husband can take down ten strong men with his bare hands. It's just a piece of cake.”

Ding! Congratulations to the host for obtaining one billion in funds.

Ding! Congratulations to the host for acquiring top-notch combat skills.

Wife's boasting all became a reality.

Yigol Novak is a bit panicked as he said, “Honey, if you keep bragging, the entire blue star will be mine...”

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In the post-apocalyptic era, amidst the wasteland and chaos, the great path reaches the heavens.Mad Outer Gods, uncontrollable cursed cultivation methods, extraordinary martial artists facing ominous old age... Above the starry sky, deities circle, and below, ghosts roam at night!In this doomsday scenario, Xu Shu carries the “Primordial Scroll” and transmigrates. Through a simulation game, he achieves one exclusive accomplishment after another, seeking a sliver of hope for survival.The ten-day apocalypse, the Dragon King returns, resurrects his lover, and saves the world;With a passionate and generous heart, he fights and conquers while carrying the burden of a grieving father whose child was stillborn...As more and more accomplishments are achieved, he gradually lets himself go within the simulation game.Until...A true disciple of the Female Void Palace is pregnant overnight, announcing an emergency lockdown;The long-extinct master of the White Jade Capital rises from the grave, destroys enemies with a wave and proves his Dao as a Great Emperor;A shepherd boy arrives at the gates of the Holy Temple, claiming to be Ye Su;Moreover, a young man riding a cow attains enlightenment, leaving Hangu Pass and preaching with a scroll:- The human race must strengthen itself. You may admire me, but there's no need to worship me;- Together, we punish those who claim to be gods!...Dreams reflect reality, and more and more people begin to spread his name and words across the land. Only then does Xu Shu realize that the life he simulated has far-reaching effects, like a butterfly flapping its wings!And those rampant Outer Gods finally recall the fear that once dominated them...He dies thousands of times on the path to ascension, and another night passes in the Primordial Scroll.Suddenly looking back, he has shattered both heaven and earth.“I, Xu Shu, am a crude person. My apologies, fairy!”---

“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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