Transmigrated as a Ghost - Chapter 1085 - Secrets of a Three-Hundred-Year-Old Tragedy

Zhong Yuntong was a dog raised by Zhong Jin in her previous life, quite literally a dog.She was a Celestial Cloud Demon Dog, and her father was the villainous Demon Lord from a novel, known for his ruthlessness and cunning, someone everyone wanted to eliminate.Little Tongtong, the puppy, was unaware of the turmoil outside, living a life of luxury with her villainous father, spoiled to the point of being unruly.When the demon clan was destroyed, Zhong Yuntong transformed into the form of a human child. Using her powerful sense of smell, she found her father, who was still as wise and formidable as ever, instilling fear in everyone.However, now everyone referred to him not as “Lord” but as “Director.”* * *A little child, around three or four years old, arrived at the An District Police Station. She was exquisitely beautiful, dressed in a fragrant cloud silk jacket and embroidered tiger-head shoes, clearly a well-cared-for child from a wealthy family.The child tiptoed, clinging to the edge of the inquiry desk, and loudly asked, “Excuse me, is my father here?”The female police officer smiled, “Little friend, who is your father?”“Zhong Jin.”Director Zhong Jin heard about this and was indifferent, thinking, “Just a child talking nonsense, we should find her parents quickly.”Two days later, Officer Wang handed the child over to the director, saying, “She’s your biological child.”Director Zhong, “……”Zhong Yuntong tugged at her father’s pant leg and said, “I want to eat crispy-skinned chicken.”Director Zhong, “……? Crispy… fried chicken?”Officer Wang, who understood this, confirmed, “There’s no doubt she’s your biological child.”A paternity test sent Director Zhong down the irreversible path of parenting, and after two months of chaotic child-rearing, the station received a report of a missing child, with a description that matched Zhong Yuntong perfectly.Zhong Jin remarked, “A scam call to the police station? What a genius.”The next day, the scammer arrived at the station.Zhong Jin, “……” The scam genius turned out to be his ex-wife.

Content Warning: R-18, Fantasy-Smut, Fetishes.Luke Hunter was once an average dairy farmer who lived in the countryside and supplied milk to a large company.After getting involved in a work-related accident, he dies a virgin and gets reincarnated into a fantasy world as the son of a very rich and powerful noble.Even though his noble family's domain is still in the countryside, this new life is nothing like the previous one.He has MoneyHe has Magic.He has a System.... And he has a big PP!Watch as Luke Hunter, the last born of the Hunter Noble Family, and only male heir to the Dukedom, begins to achieve his dream of tasting the breastmilk of women belonging to every single race in this fantasy world.The journey of Milk Harvesting is just beginning!

An insurance, a safe city, not afraid of invasion, worry-free reconstruction, welcome to buy invasion insurance!

The player Lei Chi is trapped in the game world and cannot go offline. He has obtained a claim settlement system. As long as his own camp is invaded by the player, he will get a claim settlement treasure box.

From then on, he said the harshest words and suffered the most poisonous beatings.

If others build towers to defend, they are afraid that they will not be able to stop the invasion. If Lei Chi builds towers, they are afraid that the towers are too strong and no one dares to come.

Come on, come and hit me!

“I’m not touching porcelain, I’m cheating!”

“What kind of green onion are you, everyone who wants to beat Lao Tzu has made an appointment until next year, so line up!”

PS: Don’t get me wrong, this is a serious tower defense novel.

- Description from novelbuddy

“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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