BJ Archmage - Chapter 455

Ditian travels to One Piece, and he can become stronger by playing the role of a muscular man.

Whether it is fighting skills or cultivation talent, he is the number one person in the world.

The physical liberation of tens of thousands of muscles compressed, the bones more than a thousand times harder than the hardest steel, the ghostly back of evil deeds, the recovery rate of flesh and blood rebirth, etc.

One person surrounded the entire Qibuhai, one person surrounded the top, one person invaded the city of advancement, and one person invaded the Holy Land and sat on the Void Throne.

It seems that at the beginning of invincibility, there is no one in the whole world who can fight!

Naval Headquarters: It’s terrible, it’s simply a humanoid monster

Shichibukai: We are surrounded, and when we meet, one will be abolished, two will die and three will surrender

Five Old Stars: Lord Im gave birth to a daughter for him

White Beard: I was punched to death by him

Blackbeard: I am often slapped in the face by him, I am really scared

Princess Baixing: My husband is the most gentle

Di Tian: They are all so weak, I can only eat the fruit of time and go twenty years later to see if these guys have become stronger

Twenty years later, the world has entered the era of ten emperors, one emperor and twelve generals. Have you heard that everyone’s abilities are against the sky?

Playing in the second world, in the world of cutting the red pupil, who still remembers Esthers?

- Description from novelbuddy

Sanctuary—a word that conjures visions of peace, protection, and unyielding safety. But what truly defines a place as a sanctuary? Can any refuge withstand the relentless forces of destruction, or does it take something more—a spirit of defiance and hope?For Ruseigner and Mae Yakane, renowned wildlife conservationists and environmentalists, the word became their life's mission. As the march of human progress devoured the natural world, the Yakanes spearheaded a monumental effort to carve out a haven for the threatened wildlife and ecosystems they cherished. With global support, they set out to create a sanctuary—a symbol of hope in a world teetering on the brink of environmental collapse.But fate is a cruel architect. Just as their dream took shape, tragedy struck. Ruseigner and Mae were lost, leaving their vision unfinished. Their son, Froja Yakane, inherited not just their legacy but the weight of their unfulfilled promise. At just 19, Froja’s life was stolen by an assassin’s hand. In his final breath, he vowed to seize any chance at redemption—to be stronger, bolder, and more relentless in pursuing his parents’ dream.And fate, for once, showed mercy.Reborn in a parallel world, Froja becomes Canna—a young man with a second chance to build the sanctuary his parents envisioned. But this world is far from welcoming. As Canna traverses lands filled with strange races and uncharted territories, he faces challenges that test his resolve and his belief in the very concept of sanctuary. Enemies, both seen and unseen, conspire to crush his efforts, but in the darkest of moments, Canna finds allies in the most unexpected places.Through trials of strength, cunning, and heart, Canna learns that a true sanctuary isn’t just a place—it’s a beacon of hope, a testament to the resilience of the human spirit, and a defiance against the forces of chaos.Will Canna succeed in creating the sanctuary his parents dreamed of, or will he be consumed by the perils of this new world? In a tale of courage, transformation, and unwavering determination, Canna’s journey will reveal the true meaning of sanctuary—and the price one must pay to protect it.

“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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