The Princess And The Lord - Chapter 1127 Weird Food

“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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How long can one ignore the voices in their head?Nine years. To Mark, that was the limit.For the majority of his life, Mark White has been fighting a constant battle for his sanity. The voices in his head pushed him toward madness one whisper at a time, and the music he used to ward against them was gradually losing its effects.As his mental state slowly deteriorated, Mark spent more of his time working on a game he had been developing and lamenting his lack of romantic experience.One night, the voices dealt him a powerful blow, bringing their battle to an end. To his surprise, Mark won the battle, but that came at a great cost.The voices might have disappeared, but a visual hallucination arrived to replace them, taking the form of a character from his game: Maids VS Apocalypse. Little did he know that the real apocalypse was already coming for him.

My daughters started regressing out of nowhere, stirring up a storm because they missed their mother.…But I haven’t even married yet, let alone have any daughters!?

“I, an Immortal Cultivator in this world of superheroes, alone understand the Dao.”Elius Northrim had a peaceful life—until he blacked out and awakened with tragic memories of his past life.Along with those memories was a realization that in his eighteen years, he was living in a brutal superhero universe, and his ruthless alien father—whom he had never met and a SUPERMAN equivalent of this world—was coming for his life because one of his brothers, the main character of the comic awakened his Solarion bloodline.Surviving while being mistaken for an awakened Solarion offspring of his father too, Elius must keep the truth hidden—he’s not one of them, but an immortal cultivator.If his father discovers the deception, both he and his mother will die.But the worst part is that he has become his father's favorite among the two. To avoid being constantly under his father's watch, Elius enrolls in a superhero academy, blending in while secretly growing stronger.However, with rival students, watchful instructors, and his father’s looming presence, one mistake could mean death.Now, he must master his powers, play his role, and survive—before his secret is exposed as a lone immortal cultivator in this world of Superheroes.