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Lin Xi was holding the food and did not feel that anything was out of place. Her high heels stepped on the ground, producing clicking sounds.

When Lin Xi saw Jing Hao’s expression, she thought that he had gone crazy because he kept staring at her, so she quickened her pace.

“Three, two…” Jing Hao counted down in his heart. “One!”

“Ah!”

A scream sounded. With a plop, Lin Xi’s entire body fell forward to the ground, falling face first. The food was thrown a dis ...

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“You really want me to save people?”

Looking at the shivering victim in front of him,

Look at the [Owl’s Head Wire], [The Murderer’s Gift], [Universal Anesthetic], [Invisible Potion] in the item column…

Shiraishi touched the hideous mask on his face and fell into deep thought.

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“The Salary Thief in the Distillery”

“What does the vest do to me have anything to do with it?”

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The magic version of Conan

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The Rebirth of an ill-Fated ConsortChapter 192: Letting Go of Her Inner Demons
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Crying blood and tears, she pledged a poisonous vow. The gods did not fail her. She was sent back to a decade ago. The legitimate daughter of Jiang family returned from hell.

Forget it, whatever! Since they already claimed that she was a temptress that wrecked the country, she shall overturn the world into complete chaos starting with her beguiling sister, her malicious stepmother, her cruel lover and her heartless family. Let her end the lives that Yama refused to end.

She was a pawn in her past life. In this life, however, the world was her chess board. With an alluring smile and a charming figure that enchanted the entire nation, the red-clothed woman wrecked chaos among the lands. She was a vengeful spirit from hell, determined to make those who wronged her pay in blood.

“I want those who owe me a life debt to hold their hearts out in front of me. I want those who looked down on me to only be able to admire me. I want Lord Zhong Zi to shiver when he sees me. I want to step on this splendid river and mountains!”

— — —

“You are a temptress and I am a thief.” His robe was as dark as the night and his gaze was as cold as the Northern Star. “A perfect match.”

Her red dress was akin to fire, but her heart was the coldest ice in the winter.

He was stoic in his black robe, yet he was willing to warm her frozen heart.

In this life, the elegant man seemed like a snowy bamboo grove with tall, chilly mountains, walking step by step towards her like an unstoppable force.

“Ruan Ruan, if you hate the world, then I shall conquer the lands with you.”

“What if I love the world?” She asked.

“I am the world, so you can only love me,” he answered.

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Ye Fan was transmigrated to a world where everyone was a beast tamer. As the demonic beasts rampaged around the world, humans were forced to build walls to protect themselves while the beast tamers fought the demonic beasts.

As the day of enrollment got close, Ye Fan only had a pet beast, the Cute Sparrow, with him.

“A Cute Sparrow? Don’t you have a better beast? You’re helpless.”

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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.

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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