Rebirth: The Fake Heiress Stuns The World! - Chapter 484 - 484 The Guitar Was Changed

Ruan Yōu became a brainless cannon fodder in the Mary Sue entertainment novel, with fair skin, a beautiful face, and long legs. She was criticized by fans as “trying to climb up” after looking at the top male lead too much, and the female lead took the opportunity to suppress her, causing her career to plummet.

Ruan Yōu accepted her fate and decided to retire from the industry to study finance and live a laid-back life as a salted fish.

However, her billionaire parents and CEO brother came knocking on her door, their eyes filled with guilt.

Ruan Yōu: ?!

Retiring forty years early and living a life reclining on the couch as a rich woman has just arrived!

**

Fu Jiazhan had known since he was a child that the little princess who had been betrothed to him had gone missing.

Mrs. Ruan spent her days in tears, holding his hand and choking out, “If Yōuyōu hadn’t gone missing, you and she would be about the same age, and you could have grown up together and taken care of her.”

Fu Jiazhan remembered those words, and when Yōuyōu returned to the wealthy family, he prepared to take care of her as her fiancé. But his future mother-in-law found three rivals for him.

- Description from Novelupdates

In her third year living in this steampunk world, Ciel gained the ability to simulate both the past and the future.These simulations turned into a game where she could act without restraint, and after countless trials, real life became a replica she could navigate as though speedrunning it.Churches, potions, mutations, the Old Gods, witches, sealed artifacts… none of these have anything to do with Ciel. She’s just an ordinary girl who wishes for a peaceful life.She just happens to be particularly skilled at snuffing out danger before it even begins.

The End is finally here, but humans struggle and decide to fight to the bitter end and use all of their weapons. However, all of that was useless, and billions died.Until the first humans invaded the enemies' worlds and returned with powers after awakening them, they finally had the chance to fight back and defend their lands.Many years have passed, and humans have yet to obtain any real victories. Terry lost everything since the monsters and the overlords came to Earth, and he waited patiently and trained every day until he had the chance to awaken his power. Despite doing well on his first attack, Terry didn't awake any power...However, when he returned home, he confirmed that his power had indeed awakened... he could see weapons' status, and they could gain experience when he used them or killed monsters with them. Soon, he will come to realize that no other power is better than his!

“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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