MTL - Farm Gate Escape: There is Room For Full-level Bosses - Chapter 267 Why is she here!

In the era of pirate riots, who is the real overlord of the sea?

The four emperors standing at the top of the pirates?

The mighty Qiwuhai?

A revolutionary army that emerges from the strong?

Or the navy that suppresses the sea?

No, not at all, there is only one real overlord of this sea.

“That’s me, Fire Dragon Kahn!”

Kahn’s life creed is: “As long as you pay, this old man can perform a hand-splitting dragon man!”

Kahn, formerly known as Xu En, has traveled through pirates for fifty years, and has become a vice admiral from a small soldier with his own efforts.

Kahn, who is already seventy-two years old, is getting old and is no longer in peak condition. He is spending his days leisurely in the East China Sea. He has even submitted his application for retirement, and he is ready to put himself to death until the end of his life.

Congratulations to the host for reaching the system opening conditions, and the super money system is loaded!

The sound of the system interrupted his plan.

Kahn: “Can you buy life?”

System: “Yes, a portion of the water of life can restore the host to its peak state.”

Kahn: “Is it possible to live forever?”

System: “Yes, a portion of Eternal Water can completely free the host from the restriction of life.”

“Are there any devil fruits?”

“have!”

Kahn was instantly overjoyed.

“Hancock, wait for me, I’m just old, not dead!”

But then Kahn was taken aback.

“How much are these two things?”

“The water of life is 20 billion Berries, and the water of eternity is 500 billion Berries.”

Kahn:? ? ?

Then, looking at the oil and water that I had worked hard for several years, the feeling of satisfaction disappeared instantly.

In the end, he decided on a goal, first earning 10,000 small goals before considering retirement!

- Description from novelbuddy

“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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