World Teacher – Other World Style Education & Agent - Chapter 139: The Dragonkin and The Winged People

Through a chaotic world rife with war, where demons roamed freely, he found himself in the body of the patriarch of the Luo family, whose life was nearing its end, with one foot already in the grave.Just after arriving, he was about to die?What kind of mortal suffering was this?Just as Luo Changfeng felt bewildered and on the brink of despair, he discovered that he could actually consume the vital energy of the Luo Family members to increase his attributes.A little tap, and his lifespan grew.A little tap, and his cultivation soared.A little tap, and his cultivation technique reached perfection.Thus, Luo Changfeng embarked on a path of empowering his family, continually drawing upon their vitality to strengthen himself.

Kellen Woods grew up never knowing a normal world. By the time he could walk, his mother and father had already sealed several serious gates that threatened the safety of his hometown. By the time his sister was born, they were famous worldwide.So the world held their breath for when Kellen and his sister came of age, waiting to see what kind of power they would awaken.His sister was just like his mom, same power, same class, while Kellen, woke up one day to find out what it meant to be special in a family the world watched. But in the worst way.Awakening weaker then your powerful parents wasn’t unheard of, but when your younger sister awakened at the same class as your parent, anyone would feel inferior. And Kellen, never one to ask for hand outs, left the comfort and safety of his hometown to become better than the weak brat everyone thought he was.Kellen went to the front lines, to where the gates normally broke out. From there, Kellen worked hard, and then worked some more until no one could doubt that he was good at his job. He got so good that even with his lower class, people would still hire him to help. But Kellen never took it to heart. He had learned a valuable lesson on the front lines. Classification only meant shit if you walked back out of the gate. Otherwise, shut your mouth and listen to those with more experience. They determined who made it out alive or not.But Kellen was tired now. He had gotten everything out of his system, and the fast paced life on the front lines didn’t suit him anymore. Now, he wanted to go home, buy a house, maybe find a nice man to settle down with, and live a normal life.All the while, the yellow eyes he’d met on the front lines haunted him, no matter how much he tried to forget about them.Especially since the Esper they were attached to refused to let him go.

In the Solarian Empire, people were divided by their blood. The nobles enjoyed their life in wealth, with fine wine and amazing food. They reigned supreme over the commoners. The only reason they were able to do this was that they had knowledge of the most powerful force in the world - magic. The nobles controlled their knowledge from easily going to commoners, making it harder for them to learn magic.

Leo, a young orphan in Solaria, had an incredibly powerful affinity for magic. He didn't even know about it because he could never learn magic- he was too poor to try and learn from any magic academies. He was just trying to survive the streets of Solhaven until he found the lost tome of the Arcane Emperor.

"I can beat a 7th Circle Mage."

"Wow! You must have trained for many decades. How old are you?"

"17."

"..."

The world was going to be turned upside down.

“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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