MTL - Data Cultivation System - Chapter 91 : 4-star monster Garuda Roc

This is the story of a man who had no choice but to become a villain.But not just any villain because even villains have standards.This is the journey of a man learning how to become one. And to help him, the MC has access to an unlimited number of villains in his System Space, pulled from across all realities from every known dimension: Murim, Cultivation, Supernatural, Urban, Martial Arts, Mecha, and beyond.So what is it that Razeal can learn?What can he teach? And why?How can someone with knowledge from nearly every kind of reality reshape the one he’s living in?Someone with the potential to access everything the multiverse has to offer?Tired of seeing the same ideas repeated?The same system copy-pasted with no soul?No real character building no personalities, no free will?Come read this.Who knows you might find something worthwhile.

Oosuki Masato is an ordinary high school boy who is magically transported to an alternative world, but for some reason his doting, over-protective mother comes along as well.

After an unfair life and death, Qin Hua was miraculously gifted with a second chance. But she was a dog now? And the world suddenly changed?

Terrifying beasts roamed the streets instead of cars and trucks. Plants turned deadly. Rifts to other realms opened in random street corners and more importantly, humans gained unimaginable abilities!

Earth entered a new beginning where mana was abundant and one's monetary wealth no longer determined their fate!

With the strong surviving and the weak perishing, will Qin Hua kill or be killed in this new world?

This is a story of the earth's spiritual awakening and a dog's rise to power!

“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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