I Quit Being The Villain - Chapter 116 Most Handsome Man In The Audience

In 2173, the world’s first Full-World Virtual MMORPG game ‘Astral Online’ went on sale globally, forever changing the blue planet Asteria!

With its revolutionary Digital Capture System, astonishing graphics and ability to scan yourself into the game with up to 20% beautification, countless defenders rallied to play the game.

Fifty million players logged in on launch. There were no queues or lag on launch, leaving countless critics impressed and willing to try the game. Because the game used a 6-hour play limit a day, it allowed even working adults to keep up with young students and the unemployed.

A resounding success, as more people poured onto the game servers, families and friends alike. Astra Online became a household name overnight.

One month later, the game opened its first RMT system, which made earning a living from the game easier... Thus began the Astral rush!

Professional players formed guilds and factions to increase their profits, but nobody could know this prosperity was a mere joke.

One year later, players fused with their avatars, gaining powerful abilities in the real world, which tipped the power and caused chaos.

Two years later, demons and monsters from inside the game invaded the real world.

Three years later, over 90% of humanity perished, leaving the rest to hide like rats, unable to fight back in fear.

Four years later, this world is no longer ours. The demons march on our last bastions, one by one. They exterminated us.

Zell was an average player who liked to collect beasts in the game and evolve them into humanoids, as they were primarily females.

He spent most of his life working two jobs to make ends meet.

Thanks to the excellent healthcare of his country, there were no crippling debts. There was only emptiness.

When the end came, he was powerless and alone. His only companions were his cute pets and Rika, his cherished Flame Rabbit.

She was the only beast he evolved to a humanoid form after his late start to the game.

He died saving the life of a strange girl with white wings and his pet Rika, the sad eyes of Rika and the girl’s sorrow floating through the air as he slowly passed away.

However, instead of dying, he awoke inside an empty white room with a single computer and a strange, game-like screen that allowed him to edit his IRL avatar and persona.

Who offered him this second chance?

For what reason did they help him?

Can he meet Rika again?

Zell could never know; he only knew his second life’s goal.

Survive!

Lin Xing has the ability to turn back time.Whenever he faces a life-threatening danger, he would return to the past.He falls to his death, and returns 5 seconds earlier.He is killed by a falling object, and returns 1 minute earlier.He is struck down by a dump truck, and returns 20 minutes earlier.Then one day... he finds himself having returned to one year ago.

“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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