I Can Peek Inside Every Place And Even Record It - Chapter 7: Beautiful Morning

In a twist of fate, Jun Hao, a ruthless street thug known for his brute strength and sharp instincts, dies at the hand of the boss he served like a slave.

When he thought he would die, he saw a screen flash before his eyes—it was a system and a status window!

[System integrating: Become A Top Idol]

Jun Hao finds himself abruptly transported into the body of Choi Joon-ho, a timid trainee hoping to make it big in the cutthroat world of idols through “Rising Stars,” a highly popular idol survival show. In a world unfamiliar to him, where singing, dancing, and charisma reign supreme, Jun Hao must navigate the treacherous waters of an idol survival show or risk losing the life of his beloved younger sister.

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Zhong Li, an orphan in the 21st century, was wondering how to collect the fees for his college study on the street, when he was suddenly hit by a car, which threw him into a river. An orphan’s disappearance would not bring too much attention to the world, but this accident gave Zhong Li another chance of living a glorious life in an immortal world. When he woke up, he found himself lying in a magnificent yet strange palace built of all gold, but had no door. An immortal claimed to be his savior and wanted to train Zhong Li with all of his cultivation methods, only because he was too lonely and wanted a disciple to keep him company. When Zhong Li finished his study, the master would tell him how to go out of the palace. Zhong Li never thought that the path to immortality would bring him to the fate of becoming a dragon.

- Description from Novelupdates

Imagine being forced to live, after death, as incorporeal bodies trapped in a vast space of nothingness for thousands of years, with nothing to do but exchanging past memories with other cohabitants (read: weirdos). Everybody wanted out, but there was no way to leave the Void…

My name is Yan, and since I was a child, I’ve been able to see some strange things.For example—In elementary school, our new neighbor Aunt Tan had a pair of all-around genius twins, who were like the “precious little geniuses” with halos above their heads. They could recite the English-Chinese dictionary backwards at three, master both Chinese and Western musical instruments by five, and hack into a country’s database by seven…Growing up next to such prodigies, my life was inhumane, tragic, and constantly subjected to comparisons.To escape the comparisons with these “other people’s children,” I specifically applied to a private boarding school for middle school.On my first day, my deskmate was a small, thin girl with bangs, wearing an old uniform, and her voice was as faint as a mosquito’s.Three months later, she woke up from a nap with a “rebirth” halo above her head.She moved effortlessly among the cold academic genius, the wolf-like school bully, the fierce boss, and the gentle childhood friend, leaving me, a lonely onlooker, utterly amazed.By university, I thought I had finally escaped this abnormal world.But as soon as I stepped into my dorm room, my footsteps froze.My roommates each had halos like “ancient times to modern,” “post-apocalyptic superhuman,” “will die if not spending money,” and “ghost king revival.”I clutched my little blanket and applied to the counselor for a room change, but to no avail.Over time, I gradually got used to it. “Handover systems,” “management systems,” “book transmigration,” “infinite worlds,” “three-and-a-half-year-olds,” “interstellar live streams,” “red envelope groups”…The types of halos kept increasing, and I was able to calmly ignore all of it, focusing on my own life.Every morning, I skillfully helped my “ancient to modern” roommate, who was being blacklisted online, dodge campus paparazzi and secure seats for class.At noon, I assisted my tycoon roommate in distributing today’s haul of luxury skincare and designer bags, tasting the city’s top private chef’s custom lunchbox, and exclaiming with emotion, “Darling, can I really accept these?”In the evening, I enjoyed the flowers and plants cultivated by my superhuman roommate on the balcony, tasting a mutated cherry tomato and commenting, “I feel refreshed and purified.”Late at night, when my ghost king roommate quietly climbed back through the window, I peeked out to ask, “You’re back a bit late today, didn’t bring anything back, did you?”My name is Yan, and I am not the protagonist of this world.