Frostbound [LitRPG Apocalypse] - Chapter 233 - Dancing Lights

A teenager who unexpectedly gets transported to the modern world from ‘the world of the immortals’ . He finds himself in the body of an ordinary guy. He wants to go back to his world and for that, he will have to practice to get stronger and investigate the reason why and how he crossed through to this world.

Under the vast immortal sky, the brilliance of an era is nothing but fireworks blooming at the fingertips.

Overlooking the earth, for thousands of years, life and death, where are they all? The Immortal Gate, the Dynasty, and the Supreme Holy Land are all just a handful of loess under the Immortal Vault.

A thousand years of splendor, and a smash into ashes.

Cinders sprout in the depths of the ruins, and you and I strive to be the trees that reach the sky.

What the hell is on the other side of the Immortal Firmament?

- Description from novelbuddy

The wife is first, the country is second, and the husband is of lesser importance.

All of his life was spent riding a war horse and accomplishing meritorious military services. But what was the result? In the end, he was cast aside once he had served his purpose.

Out of selfishness, he had favored his consort and neglected his wife. Ultimately, the one who stood by his side was the wife that he had neglected for 10 years…

After being reborn, Jing Shao decided to repent and turn over a new leaf…

Standing outside the door while holding a pillow, Jing Shao gazed at the sky. He must first mend his relationship with his wife. Jing Shao formed a fist and knocked on the door, “Jun Qing, I know my wrongs, let me in!”

- 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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