The Soul Keeper - Chapter 96: The Semi-finals

My name is Mikami Yuu, and I am a first-year student at the Soul Society, Shino Academy of Spiritual Art.

I have a friend who will be a little famous in the soul world in the future. His name is Aizen? Jiayishu?br />Different from this friend who has great ambitions and lofty ideals, my goal is very simple. Through hard work and diligence, I will graduate Later, he became the chairman of the thirteenth team of Goutei, and has since become a warrior class, living a life of lying down and sucking blood.

Until one day, a thing called “Cultivation Binding System” suddenly appeared.

Whenever Aizen improves his strength, my strength will be automatically synchronized to the same level as Aizen.

Then, what to do in the future is very clear.

“? Jiayi? You have to work hard. As long as you work hard enough, I can live the life I want!”

- Description from novelbuddy

The female protagonist of this book is a zombie (probably!) The male protagonist of this book is an air (maybe, but you can’t see it?) The system of this book is a bastard (like to open a mouth too much?) Anyway, this is a story about zombie with a memory, going back to the past, but accidentally turning this book into a story of a savior! (Huh? What? There is a killer? No, believe the author, she really did not kill, really! (No wonder!)

The heroine said: The title of the book and so on are all fake!

- Description from Novelupdates

The protagonist, a famous writer in his previous life ― now transmigrated as the Young Lady Gong Zhuoliang from a large wealthy family, found out that this pitiful boy was not only harassed by his step mother, but he was also treated and raised as a delicate girl by his own family ever since he was a child. But not only that, he, as a guy, was even forced to wear a bride’s wedding clothes to substitute his sister.

When the ‘Young Lady’ received news of this, he found it very unbearable for him to accept, and so he jumped into the water to commit suicide. The reborn him pitied Xiao Gong. He originally planned to expose his ‘Mother”s family to his ‘Husband”s family, and allow them to come deal with his family, However, discussing about the pros and cons with his ill Husband had confused him so much.

Reluctantly, he began to live his ‘sexual life’ with his Husband.

Fortunately, although this man is quite frail and autistic, he’s really good-looking, and the other is really set on being a caring husband for his wife. Therefore, either Xiao Gong’s mood would be bad or good, he would immediately close their door, and then push Qiao Xianggong down the bed to do this and that again and again…..

In short! This is a story of Xiao Gong’s growth~

It is also about the history of the overthrow of the Qiao family’s relatives~

–
Lisha’s notes:

Xianggong = Husband; Term for young man

- Description from Novelupdates

“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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