Ruinous Return - Chapter 27B2 –

A woman with heavy makeup said, “My husband's net worth is over a hundred million, and all I need to do every day is go shopping for beauty treatments. I don't need to work at all!”

Suri Drew said, “Hmph, my husband's liquid assets alone are a billion. Did I mention it?”

A sexy lady said, “My husband is a master of judo and karate. I feel so safe with him!”

Suri Drew said, “My husband can take down ten strong men with his bare hands. It's just a piece of cake.”

Ding! Congratulations to the host for obtaining one billion in funds.

Ding! Congratulations to the host for acquiring top-notch combat skills.

Wife's boasting all became a reality.

Yigol Novak is a bit panicked as he said, “Honey, if you keep bragging, the entire blue star will be mine...”

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In her past life, Chen Wei’er was too blind to recognize people for who they were. She caused the destruction of her own family for the sake of a scum, and hurt the people who truly loved her. Fate gave her another chance to start over. In this life, she became decisive and worked hard in her career. She became a proud dance queen who managed to destroy the third-wheel who schemed against her, take revenge on the scum, and avenge all past grievances. She became a sweet wife who was coquettish and flattering, boldly seducing her aloof husband, He Xun.

His difficult wife suddenly became sweet and gentle. He Xun finally couldn’t resist holding her tight and whispered into her ear, “What do you want? I’ll give you everything. My life is yours too, so stop teasing me…”

One night, Chen Wei’er had a dream. She dreams of her past life, and the world after her death. He Xun was sitting in the hospital’s corridor, hugging her bloodied corpse as he went insane. “Had I known that in exchange of letting you go, you would die instead of being happy, I would never have let you go…” Then, He Xun killed all of her enemies and built a small wooden house in front of her grave. He never took another wife but became her grave-keeper. To think he loved her so much. Then, she learned that fate only gave her another chance to start over because this man, who had loved her for two lifetimes, had begged in front of her grave day and night for another chance in exchange for a lifetime of loneliness…

“Mr. Hu Lai, today’s football forwards like you who can only score goals are getting narrower and narrower … But nevertheless, you have achieved dazzling achievements. What is your secret to success?”

On a winter afternoon, Hu Lai showed reporters from all over the world the honor he had just received, and some reporters asked him such questions.

Facing the eyes cast by the reporters, Hu Lai’s thoughts returned to the afternoon when he was in high school. He stood alone beside the stadium to watch other students play games. They did not let him play, thinking he was here to make trouble.

He also thought of what the coach said to him with a straight face: “Hu Lai, if you can’t pay ten times the effort of others, your talent is just worthless stones.” And a disdainful voice: “Modern football The demands on the center are getting higher and more comprehensive. What’s the use of shooting only? ”

In the end, his thoughts were frozen at that time, and the night was already looming in the eastern sky. In the middle of the abandoned vacant land covered with grass, a girl said to him very seriously: “Hu Lai, you are actually gifted. , And a great talent! Because you know where the goal is! ”
Hu Lai stared at the girl’s eyes, and saw the sunset behind him from those eyes.

The sunlight is reflected in the pupils, flowing, burning, condensing into a halo, as if to melt yourself in this light.

Hu Lai, who withdrew his thoughts, returned to this warm winter afternoon, facing the excited reporters, he smiled slightly: “Because I know, the goal is there.”

- Description from Qidian

“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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