My Pick Up Artist System - Chapter 321: Ben the gravedigger

[Delicate Wife VS Tough Guy, Spoiling Wife + Double Virtue + Raising Kids Daily Life]The foodie livestreamer Shen Mingzhu transmigrated into the role of a wicked stepmother from a bygone era's novel, becoming a contrasting figure to the village's Shen Baolan.Shen Baolan was kind and virtuous, treating her stepson as her own, while the original character was harsh and mean, either beating or scolding the stepson.Shen Baolan enjoyed her twilight years thanks to her promising stepson, whereas the original character was burned alive by her twisted and sinister stepson.In order to change the tragic outcome, Shen Mingzhu rolled up her sleeves, prepared to sort things out properly.——Shen Baolan had a dream.The man she was about to marry would die half a year later, leaving her a widow with nothing, bound to lead a life of misery.Meanwhile, Shen Mingzhu, for having married the right man, became an enviable rich lady.Both from the same village, both becoming stepmothers to someone, why should Shen Mingzhu live a better life than her?She would marry the man Shen Mingzhu was married to, and live Shen Mingzhu's good life!——Five years passed.Shen Mingzhu had become a college student, Shen Mingzhu's man didn't die but instead became a big boss, and Shen Mingzhu's stepson turned into a child prodigy.Shen Baolan, who pined for her husband to succeed, was still bitterly waiting for the day her man would rise to greatness.

“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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Kiyoshiro Takeda lived a life without purpose, drifting through his days with no direction. But one fateful moment changes everything. Now, he finds himself in a world unlike any he has ever known, given a role he never asked for. A new life, an unknown destiny, and a looming catastrophe that only he can prevent. But can someone who failed in his old life truly become the last hope?

“Legend had it that in the deepest part of the oldest galaxy, there was a door as red as blood and fire.

Legends and myths, darkness and light, countless stories passed through this old door.

The Door of Constellation that overlooked everything would warn the sky and earth, sending darkness back to where it belonged.”