Deus Necros - Chapter 170: A Death Knight’s Heart

Yu Zhengdu joined a small start-up company that claim to offer “life management services”……as a programmer.

On his first day in office, he received a phone call from a stranger: “Hello, I received a text message from your company that informed me of my reincarnation tomorrow……”

Yu Zhengdu: “……??”

Shang Que, the beautiful little boss, said, “New employee, welcome to the Hell organisation in the human world. A thousand years ago, I was known to the human world as the Ghost King of Luofeng Mountain.”

Yu Zhengdu: “……??” From then on, he was incredibly distressed about the development of Hell.

- Description from Novelupdates

As the leader of bandits, Yan Jinyi has been a bully for twenty years, and she ended up causing her own death. The next thing she knows, she wakes up and finds that she has become the Second Young Mistress of the Huo Family. Wielding her knife, Yan Jinyi starts to throw her weight around conceitedly again. Young Master Huo says, “If I’m still single, I’ll probably marry my sister-in-law.” Third Young Master Huo says, “If I could turn back time, I would have vied with my brother to marry my second sister-in-law. Miss Huo says, “If I were a man, my second sister-in-law would be my woman!” A CEO says, “I thought I was roguish enough, but I didn’t expect Yan Jinyi to be more of a hooligan than I am!” The Best Actor says, “Huo Xishen, why are you still not divorced?” Second Young Master Huo points to Yan Jinyi and says, “She is mine.” Rumor has it that the second daughter-in-law of the Huo Family can beat a home wrecker up and is especially good at making money. Countless bigwigs are lining up to make a cuckold of Huo Xishen.

“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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