The Apocalypse Path of Rebirth - Chapter 127: City C: Conquest

Juvenile Luo Yang, because of the body being blocked by evil dragons, and with the blood of God, has embarked on a road to heaven! Rise from the humble, turn the mountains and seas, step into the world, and press the heavens!

- Description from 69shu translation

Reborn in a frail body disgraced by its family, Zhuang Xing—the once-legendary Pill God—awakens to a brutal world where martial prowess defines destiny. Surviving an attempt on his life by his own family’s henchmen, he realizes he’s been reborn in the Great Qi Country as the despised son of the Zhuang family.Three months before the prestigious Hidden Dragon Ranking, Zhuang Xing must rise above his limitations to claim his birthright and reclaim his former strength. With enemies surrounding him, will Zhuang Xing overcome his frail shell and silence those who doubt him?

“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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Trojas was a land of beauty, rich in warmth and culture. It was also home to some of the finest warriors on the continent. The people of this prosperous nation lived happily, taking great pride in their homeland.Ceremus Marcrinos had just inherited the throne, and despite his grief, he carried out his duties the best he could. Unfortunately, his loneliness overwhelmed him, and the only escape from the pain in his heart came through his vices. Whether it was drinking the night away, sleeping with countless strangers, or getting into unnecessary fights, the king just couldn’t stay out of trouble.The citizens of Trojas initially tolerated his behavior, sympathizing with his loss, but things only grew worse. Ceremus, once revered as a benevolent king, became a tyrant. His abuse of power pushed the people to their breaking point, and in desperation, they prayed to Kaleeso, the goddess and creator of mortals, to ease their suffering. The goddess, moved by their cries, chose to send someone who could finally put the unruly king in his place.A man emerged from the heart of the Aphthonia Forest becoming the protector of its land. He had but one mission—to save the people, but more importantly, save the King of Trojas from himself.The problem was, would the prideful Ceremus be able to accept such a change? Especially when all he had known for the last eight years was solitude? I mean his chosen one was destined to be a man!