My Wife Is A Killer - Chapter 12: Episode The Tiger Comes Out of the Mountain

For the crimes he commited, Theo was executed by the exile to the outlands, beyond the limits of human civilization, where the S-rank monsters reigned supreme.Yet, rather than feeling despair, guilt or anything else... Theo was excited.He had no memory of comitting any of the crimes he was sentenced for. Or, to be more precise, he had no memory of doing anything in this world other than sitting in the prison-coach as it drove to the edge of the civilization.And how could he not, with the system prompt hanging out in the corner of his vision, promising to activate only once he set foot in the outlands?Turn the world into blocks... and mine them out. Craft whatever your heart desire. Construct, automate, explore and exploit!But when you hear the boss music kick in...Do you run, or do you stand your ground and fight?!And what if, while you play minecraft... Others play game of thrones?

She, the prime minister’s daughter, was timid and cowardly. Because her engagement fell through, and her reputation was ruined, she was pressured to spill her own blood in the palace hall! Once again opening her eyes, the cowardice had vanished, replaced by coldness, causing others to be intimidated at first glance. Yet no one realized, she was not her.

He, the current dynasty’s Chu Wang, served the country and brought peace and stability. Peerless and magnificent, all the girls under the Heavens eagerly pursued him! He helped her break off her engagement in the palace hall, but she avoided him at a great distance. He set his mind to pursue her, but she didn’t intend to love him.

At home, the turbulent currents of government affairs surged violently, disputes from every country continued to spring up everywhere. The stunning her who had been reborn, and how she didn’t bat an eyelid to resolve that terrifying carnage; her name had shaken the whole world!

When the dust had settled, and the song and dance had ceased, who could hold hands with her and look upon this thousand-year golden age, this flourishing ten thousand miles? Nowadays in this land under the Heavens, everyone spoke of how Chu Wang was cunning and two-faced, he desired the whole world, and was someone they seriously could not provoke. Yet the one they could not provoke even more was his Wang Fei – Yun Qian Meng! Anyone who provoked Chu Wang Fei, must surely be prepared to lose their necks!

A breathtaking rebirth, a thrilling marriage, in the blink of an eye the once weak woman had become the honorable Chu Wang Fei!

Wang Fei: In the palace chambers, between the feasts, smiles are hiding daggers, with layers and layers of plots and machinations; those who hurt my flesh and blood will have to pay the price.

Chu Wang: In these troubled times, carrying the fire beacon, over thousands of miles of fortresses and mountains, I have traveled to the distance to these border stations; if you dare to hurt my wife I will take your life.

Wang Fei: In another country, in a foreign land, will his thoughts stay pure? The princess of another nation is graceful and beautiful, will “a pair of people for one life” change?

Chu Wang: Returning home, difficult problems arise. As green hills extend into the distance, beautiful flowers and tender feelings grow deeply; dealing with the ruler and his ministers is harder than rising into Heaven.

That night, all the monarchs struggled for power, smoke rising all around; that night, the husband and wife were separated, neither humble nor haughty; that night, the land was in great disorder, lying corpses filled the plains; that night, whose heart was confused, whose family was broken, whose country was lost?

In the chaos of war, during their separation, separated by thousands of miles of unmoving mountains and rivers, the gentleman’s heart and the wife’s heart never changed. In the lonely city without aid, hand in hand as before, they advanced together while chatting lightly about this West Chu country.

- 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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Within the Immortal Realm, there were nine thousand major realms, with three thousand at the top, three thousand in the middle, and three thousand at the bottom, along with countless minor realms.