Writing Web Novels In America - Chapter 296 - 301 Update ’King Arthur

During the Second World War, Kyle looked at Captain America standing straight and proud before him. Suddenly, a series of skill cards appeared.「Pistol Master」「Martial Arts Master」「Shield Defense Master」「Super Soldier Serum」Which skill card do you wish to extract?“Wait… what? This golden finger… you must be pulling my leg! Not only skill cards but I can also extract super-powered skills like the Super Soldier Serum? Mother of God… what is this?!”(Hey Guys, I am retranslating this novel here and I will try to quickly reach the chapters that had been already translated on other websites. For everyone's confirmation, I am translating it with my own efforts and I am not copying it from other websites. So give me your reviews and tell me if you like it)

In her previous life, Su Nuan was set up by her lover and sister, and died tragically in prison. When she woke up, she had been reborn to a time before all the tragedies had happened. At her birthday party, her sister found some kidnappers kidnaping her, trying to destroy her innocence and get her kicked out of the house. Not only did Su Nuan mess up her sister’s plan, but she also dealt with all the kidnappers.

She also rescued Mo Ting, the most powerful and handsome man in City A. To stay away from her cruel sister and hypocritical scumbag of a lover, she relentlessly clung to Mo Ting. “Uncle, for my poor sake, please help me. I’ll do anything you want.”Mo Ting: “A contract marriage for three years. I’ll give you everything you want during that time!” At first, Mo Ting thought Su Nuan was just a poor little girl who had been driven out of her home, so he helped her.

He was also using her to appease his family’s elders as they had been harping on him to get married. Later, his assistant came to report, “The principal of City A’s university is here. He wants your approval for your wife to participate in the international competition.”Mo Ting: “…Wasn’t Xiao Nuan a hopeless student?”Assistant: “Sir, Madam has blown up! The entire internet is kneeling and begging her to debut in the competition!”Mo Ting: “…When did she become so versatile?” Later, the assistant reported again: “Sir, someone from the National Medical Academy is here. They say they won’t leave if they can’t invite Madam to make an appearance!” Mo Ting: “…I must be dreaming. Go out and come in again. Let’s start over!”

A man who was once called the world strongest agent ended up becoming a teacher after his retirement to train the new generation of agents. After many years of training his disciples, he is killed at the age of 60 by the ploy of a secret organization and was reincarnated in another world with all his past memories.Though he was surprised by the magic and the strange species of that world, he adapted very fast to his condition as a newborn and took advantage of it. He acquired special magic and gained a massive amount of strength thanks to his tight discipline in order to reach his goal: resume his career as a teacher which he left halfway through in his previous life.This is the story of a man who based on the memories and the experiences of his previous life, became a teacher who travels through the world with his new students.

“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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