MTL - Super Urban Master - v5 Chapter 9 Anti-eye

“It’s not a lie, my family is really an ordinary family, I really don’t know any big people”

As a sophomore in high school, Chen Chu really didn’t feel that he was special, an ordinary family, an ordinary student.

Until a rich man in this city donated 10 million yuan to the school to install air conditioners for the whole school, build teaching buildings and sports fields.

In front of the teachers and students of the whole school, the rich man put his arms around his shoulders affectionately, and the leaders, teachers and students of the school were all surprised.

Chen Churen was dumbfounded: “Listen to my explanation, my family is really an ordinary family, and I really don’t know the richest people in this city!”

…

The city leaders came to the school for inspection, patted him on the shoulder kindly, asked him about his studies and how his campus life was, and invited him to visit him.

Looking at the strange eyes of all the school leaders, teachers and classmates who said “you are just an ordinary family”.

Chen Chu was numb: “I’m not lying, my family is really an ordinary family, how can I know the city leaders!”

- Description from novelbuddy

Once feared as the Queen of Shadows, Eydis now faces her greatest humiliation: high school.Stripped of her magic, her kingdom, and (most insultingly) her dignity, she’s stuck in the body of a weak, whiny teenager with no power, no allies, and no money. And her terrifying familiars? Complicated. Her new greatest adversary? The Maths teacher.And we certainly can’t forget about that giant, pulsating eye watching from the heavens (debatable), ominously known as… The Eye… (I know, right?) that threatens to tear apart her new reality.But one thing Eydis hasn’t forgotten: shadows always trail after you.The real question is whether she’ll stand in them once more as their queen… or be swallowed by them, piece by piece.“Royal Reboot: Level Up, Your Majesty!” - a comedic dark fantasy where nothing is as it seems and every choice could be her last.A/N: Action/Romance/Slice of Life/LGBTQChapter updates weekly, weakly.While the story has a comedic undertone, darker themes are presented.

Some crowns are forged in blood. Others are drowned beneath it.In a city strangled by smoke and silence, where children are shackled to machines and shadows rule behind gilded masks, Keiran is just another forgotten soul—until the mark appears.Buried beneath the factory’s foundations lies a world long erased from history. Ancient oaths whisper through stone and water, and something older than memory begins to stir. As Keiran is drawn deeper into the abyss, he uncovers a legacy not meant for mortal hands—a crown shattered in defiance, a flood sealed by sacrifice, and a power that demands a price.Hunted by tyrants, haunted by echoes, and bound to secrets he never asked for, Keiran must choose: drown in the tide of what came before, or rise against the current and reclaim what the world was forced to forget.But the deeper he goes, the more the truth unravels…And beneath it all, something still breathes.

“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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