MTL - Azeroth Shadow Trail - ~ Cough, ask for a monthly pass

Mo Ran thought becoming Chu Wanning’s disciple was a mistake.His shizun was really too much like a cat while he himself was a dumb pup who’d only slobber and wag his tail.Dogs and cats were different by nature; originally, the dumb pup didn’t want to extend his furry paws to that cat.He originally thought, dogs should be with dogs, like his shixiong, beautiful and tame like a cute Japanese Spitz, and the two of them together would surely be a match made in heaven.Yet, after having died and reborn, after having lived two lives, the one he hauled back each time to his den in the end was always the one he couldn’t stand at first: that snow-white kitty shizun.Dumb off the charts husky gong x proud, aggravated, big white cat shou Emperor of the cultivation world Mo Weiyu deceived elders and slaughtered ancestors, and committed all crimes and sins known to man. After ending his own life, he was reborn and transmigrated to the year he first became a disciple.In the shell of a boy held an old and weary soul. After coming back to life,truth after truths that had been hidden below the surface in the previous life floated to the top and broke through the waters one after the other.Of all the revelations, the one that stunned him the most was that the Shizun he had hated to the bone in his previous life had always been protecting him from the shadows…The heart of man can change; even demons and monsters can become compassionate and do good. Only, he had sinned deeply. Can the blood on his hands ever be cleansed?Novel written by *Meatbun doesn't eat meat*

Zara Hansley had always believed herself forsaken by the gods due to the terminal illness she was diagnosed with. Every doctor she visited had declared she would not live past her 23rd birthday.Yet, when left with only a few months to live, Zara found out that the root of her illness was a curse, one which she could break. Just like that, she was given a new chance at life—she had to scour the earth for the cure in just a few short months or succumb to her fate.Fate, however, was a funny thing—it brought her to a stranger that would alter the course of her life forever, and his life by her.Born to an ancient family, Amir Frostcrown was cursed to bring misfortune to any female around him. Not only that, he was able to hear the thoughts of others, thus further drawing a line between him and other ordinary folk. As such, while these abilities amassed him an enormous wealth over the years, he was destined to live a loveless life of solitude.That all changed when his and Zara’s paths crossed. As someone that was completely unaffected by his curses and abilities, Amir Frostcrown was immediately intrigued by this dying girl.One dream, one vow, and two curses. That was all it took for Zara to tumble from the world of reality into fantasy. Would she be able to find her cure in time? When secrets are revealed, would Zara and Amir Frostcrown stand the test of time?***“We were fated to be from the beginning!” he amusedly declared as he looked at her dotingly, eyes sparkling and only her image visible in his blue eyes.“I don’t believe in fate!” Zara mumbled softly as she looked to the ground, afraid of facing him and the undeniable truth he spoke of.“But don’t you see?” Amir asked. “Isn’t fate what led us to this very moment?”

This world became a playground for various other worlds. Every living creature was digitized and awaited the endless slaughter and torture of the players from other worlds.Yi Zheng, who had become a mob rabbit in the Beginner's Village, decided to lead a group of rabbits. They sprinted across the grasslands, did crunches, bench-presses, rowing, and swimming etc.A year later, when the players descended, they saw more than just a group of small monsters.They saw an army of terrifying, demonic, muscular rabbits!The Rabbit King sitting on the throne high above waved a carrot as he threatened, “From this day forth, don’t even think of leaving Beginner's Village!”

“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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