A Painting of the Villainess as a Young Lady - Chapter 85

“Blonde again this time.” It’s already the third time being possessed. The third time with blonde hair. At this point, I can’t help but doubt the taste of the deity I serve, Pebula. Upon waking up, the detailed personal information of the third body, Siora, is as follows: [Siora Velvet. 20 years old. Parents died in a fire. Currently under the protection of Count Bonetti. Remaining assets: 0g. Scheduled to be evicted in 3 days] It’s clearly a worse situation than the previous two possessions! *** As the only priestess, cleric, saint, and pope of the ancient deity Pebula, one day she received a book. The book titled described that the world would soon be destroyed by the villain ‘Cruello White Desert.’ “Ancient deity Pebula, please perform a miracle.” As soon as she finished reading the book, Pebula, who had given the revelation to ‘Reform the villain!’ immediately threw her into the body of the villain’s childhood fiancée. First attempt: Died after being poisoned instead of the villain, thus failing. Second attempt: Possessed the body of the villain’s maid but also failed, as she was too focused on doing nothing but dying. Finally, the third attempt. Waking up in the body of Siora, who had no connection with the villain, she strives to make a connection with Cruello. However, there is only one year left before Cruello destroys the world… Moreover, after two failed attempts, the once innocent child has already grown into a wicked villain! Like Cinderella returning home at midnight, Siora wants to save Cruello and escape her duties. Will she be able to fulfill her role and break free from her fate? #Overpowered #MultiplePossessions #PoliticalMarriage #Revenge #ComingOfAge #Redemption #SaintOfAncientDeity #ReformTheVillain

There are countless parallel worlds beyond what we know. The people who first discovered this secret named it “Yan Fu”. Each world is a different fruit on a tree, and the person who shuttles through different fruits is called “Yanfu Walker”. Yanfu Walker is given different Heritage and trained to complete Yan Fu missions in exchange for rewards.In modern society, the Martial Arts sects have declined one after another, and martial arts prodigy Li Yan suffers from leukemia, making it difficult to survive by opening an audio and video store. One day, a person named MO appeared and took him into the Yan Fu world under the pretext of being able to cure a terminal illness. So “Hejian Skinny Tiger” Li Yan resolutely stepped into the world of Yan Fu, awakened the inheritance of Gu Huo Bird, and embarked on the path of survival in a different world. The truth of the world, Yan Fu’s goals, the secrets of the walking organization, and the ambitions of the rebel organization are far more than that…

At the end of a Dynasty filled with Demons and rampant Martial Artists, Lin Xuankong has unfortunately transmigrated to this era, becoming a poor and sickly old man. However, with the help of the system Life Plate, his Talent and Comprehension grow stronger the longer he lives.And his much younger wife is a martial master...“That iron ball used to be Zhang Wu's knife. I squeezed it a couple of times, and it ended up like this! ” said his wife.“I hope you can teach me some Cultivation Techniques. As for the reward...” said Lin eagerly.

“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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