MTL - My Extraordinary Achievement - Chapter 571 water challenge

One day, spatial tunnels opened in the very fabric of reality, connecting Earth to a planet that came to be known as Xavier, a planet that has a lot of deserted settlements belonging to the civilization that lived on this planet before we started exploring it.

Each settlement not only hides a secret of its own but also treasures, knowledge, and unthinkable technologies.

In this new world, magicians rule the world and make the rules.

They are those who can contain magic energy, an energy source present in Xavier, in their bodies.

This energy is used to mainly empower supernatural cells.

One can get them by consuming evolution materials.

These supernatural cells suck magic energy to manifest one's superpower in the real world.

Elliot, once the son of magicians in the channel opening stage, now lives the life of an orphaned and poor boy.

Elliot is the weakest magician to ever exist in the world, a world where the strong are respected and the weak are disdained.

With the death of his parents, the ones who used to look down on his has no reason to control their feeling.

With a dim fate ahead of him, he grits his teeth and silently moves on to the day the light of glory shines on him, setting him apart from others in a single day, letting him taste what it means to be God!

In the real world, martial arts have resurged. Chen Sheng, tired of city life, returned to his hometown and awakened an attribute panel, along with a skill.

[Body of Breakthrough: Through training, your physical qualities have limitless growth, and the training effect will not diminish.]

One year later, Chen Sheng held his breath and focused his energy, lightly striking his fist towards the mountain in front of him. In an instant, the mountain crumbled and the earth split. The mountain disintegrated instantly.

“Did you see that?”

“That's the Crumbling Fist of Thousand Move Fists.”

“Once you reach this level, you can be considered an entry-level practitioner.”

The disciples were dumbfounded.

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“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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