Hitting Up The Big Leagues with a Tea Personality - Chapter 32

Luke has transmigrated to the United States, but eventually realizes that this United States is different from the United States of his previous life. Here, the superpowers and characters from the movies in his previous life actually exist. How will Luke fare in a world where such terrifying superpowers exist?

The Devil’s Den was Cosette’s favorite webnovel that she had followed for three whole years. She waited for updates, wallow in those empty days during the author’s constant hiatuses, cry and laugh with the characters; it was already a part of her short life.

Cosette really wished that the novel would never end despite that she was terminally ill.

But after three years, The Devil’s Den finally came to an end. With a reader as invested as Cosette, she had mixed emotions about the ending. Not that the ending was disappointing, but what disheartened her was the ending of her favorite character; the villain Maxen Devilsin.

One year later, Cosette took her last breath only to wake up in the body of the stunning Cosette Blac; the villainess of the novel The Devil’s Den, her second favorite character after the villain.

Granted with the opportunity to live in the world of her favorite novel before the main story starts, Cosette had a plan.

That was to simp over the characters and save her favorite characters whilst hoping that the female and male lead still have their happy ending.

In a world that was already written and events that were expected to happen whether or not they wanted to, can Cosette change the course of their lives? Was overwriting the characters' fate could save them? Or would it just give them a much worse ending than what the author had given them?

Watch Cosette as she tried to become the superfan and give the dark-themed story some light.

Wrongly imprisoned for a crime she did not commit, Ye Qiao was freed from the iron gates that locked her away for seven years with nowhere to go, no one to see, and nothing to move on to following the passing of her husband, who she had never appreciated. The man was part of the Special Forces and had been killed during a mission.

“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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