PREVIEW

... young man who was already the number one heir on the surface.

In addition, Gu Yu and Fu Huayu sat in relatively remote places, and only occasionally two or three people talked to them.

Gu Yu also enjoys this kind of cleanliness.

The night outside the window gradually became thicker, and the sky was pitch black with only a crescent moon shining bright white fluorescence, making the lights in the banquet hall even brighter.

Gu Yu sat in this remote corner, the tip of hi ...

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He was weak, he was depressed, he was a loser.
He wasn't even Lvl 10 in the game when Earth was destroyed in the Quake and the players of Redlands were transmigrated to the fantastic world of Zushkenar.
But he lived, learned, and died again.
Now, he was back on Earth, one year and three months before the Quake.
Deciding to rejoin the game earlier and with greater focus, what changes would he bring with his actions?
What life would he live?

*
paypal.me/JInDaoran

*
There's a map for the lands of Zushkenar posted on the DeviantArt website:
https://www.deviantart.com/kilrain/art/Hunters-Guide-map-cities-grid-b-877682076

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*
The background image for the cover is part of a landscape by moinzon taken from pixabay.com

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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.

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“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?”

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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.

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