PREVIEW

...

Dong!

Liang Qin, still holding a wine glass, stumbled and fell to the ground. His face turned pale and green, clutching his stomach as if in extreme pain.

"Ugh."

He couldn’t help retching, vomiting up something streaked with blood, an alarming sight.

"Brother Liang! Are you okay? Can you still keep drinking?"

"Drink, my ass! This is a stomach hemorrhage from drinking. Get him to the hospital immediately! He just got discharged a few days ago, should’ve ...

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The word defeat did not exist for Wei Congying in his relationships.

But the biggest joke was after the prodigal son returned and realized he was someone else’s stand-in.

Three years after breaking up, while sitting in a fast food place in the Isle of Mann, he saw her and discovered an something even more laughable…

He was still in love with this heartless person.

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Bai Jing transmigrated into a book and became the male protagonist’s first love. She sacrificed herself for the male protagonist and the female protagonist got all the benefits.

Bai Jing, who wore the book, said, “Hehe, who wants to be the Virgin Mary?”

The male lead: “Jingjing, as long as you accompany President Wang for drinks, our company will be rich.”

Bai Jing kicked him away. “Get out. You’re not fit to depend on me!”

The female lead: “Jingjing, how could you break up with him when he’s broke? You are too materialistic!”

Bai Jing smiled lazily. “Are you envious? I’m more beautiful than you. I have the right to be willful.”

Bai Jing wanted to start her own career, but the male and female leads kept chasing after her.

She could not take it anymore and found a handsome man to marry.

“Let me introduce you, this is my husband. I’ve liked him for a long time.”

The male protagonist was stunned. “G… Greetings, President Si.”

The female protagonist trembled. “Si… Si Qian…”

Bai Jing was silent.

The villain in the book was also called Si Qian?!

That night, Bai Jing forbade men from going to bed. “Divorce. I’m not interested in villains.”

“Sure.”

Si Qian leaned forward. “Before the divorce, give me one last night.”

The next day, Bai Jing didn’t manage to get out of bed successfully…

After countless “last night”, Bai Jing finally created her own technology empire.

Reporter: “Ms. Bai, can I ask you about your secret to success?”

Bai Jing held her aching waist and smiled mysteriously. “Treat every night as your last night.”

Persona:

Bai Jing: Beautiful and cool, technology big shot.

Si Qian: Handsome and mysterious, wise and powerful, deeply attracted by Bai Jing’s charm.

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Zhuang Yan had just split into an Omega when he was taken away by a counterfeit for four years.

The counterfeit was a dog in his previous life, and he would bite everyone he saw, causing a lot of trouble. In the end, he let go, and returned his body and the mess of chicken feathers all over the floor to Zhuang Yan——

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Zhuang Yan: …

That counterfeit who seized the house just finished wearing a Schrödinger’s green hat for others.

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Alphas all have half-beast forms, and Chen E is a swan. He is disabled, and most of the right wing is made of metal skeleton and feathers.

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Two years ago, Zhuang Yan said foolishly that this Alpha, Chen E, no matter how high he climbed, he was nothing more than a cripple.

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The fair and beautiful Omega lay in Chen E’s arms, kissing his injured wings obediently and sweetly.

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One-sentence introduction: Alpha is fierce but his wings are fluffy

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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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