PREVIEW

... Youyi nearly spat out his tea. He wasn’t surprised that Xu Shen dared to confront him, but he hadn’t expected the boy’s words to be so sharp and cutting.

“Does this kid not know who I am?” Jiang thought, his face darkening.

Suddenly, Wu Yun burst into laughter, his face turning red. “Kid, how did you know he got kicked in the head by a donkey when he was young? Hahaha!”

The room fell silent for a moment before everyone’s expressions turned strange. Xu Shen blinked. “Wait ...

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On March 1, 1999, during the old era, a gigantic six-winged creature with a bloodshot giant eyeball at the center of its six wings suddenly appeared over the land of Gaul, resembling an “angel” descending on earth!

On January 27, 2000, during the old era, an enormous flaming giant, wearing a crown, emerged in the Arctic Iceland, standing hundreds of meters tall. The ice and snow melted, the earth collapsed, and the civilian casualties amounted to a hundred thousand!

On February 13, 2000, during the old era, Mount Fuji erupted, and a colossal beast resembling an upright lizard emerged from molten lava. Three days later, the island of Honshu fell under its wrath.

During the old era…

In 123 during the new era, Chu Lingjun transmigrated into this terrifying world, but he possessed an electric eel clone.

As the electric eel grew stronger, so did Chu Lingjun, and this electric eel could continuously devour and evolve without limit!

As the body of the electric eel grew larger, reaching hundreds of meters, then kilometers, and even transforming into a dragon, Chu Lingjun’s became increasingly powerful.

The people around Chu Lingjun started to change their attitude towards him.

His mother asked, “Lingjun, do you want a wife or not?”

His relatives asked, “Lingjun, do you want a wife or not?”

His friends asked, “Lingjun, do you want a wife or not?”

Strange beasts asked, “Lingjun, do you want a wife or not?”

Chu Lingjun was dumbfounded.

……………………………………………………………

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“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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