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We entered the banquet hall.

The banquet hall was decorated very splendidly, as the imperial family paid extra attention to it.

“The Crown Prince, Duke Lillian, and Princess Lillian are entering!”

The loud voice of the servant drew the attention of those who had already entered the room.

It was a banquet for the future Crown Princess held at the Crystal Palace, so there were a considerable number of people.

I walked under the escort of the Duke, and the Crown ...

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Top-tier Auntie in the Entertainment IndustryChapter 136: Little Aunt.0
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Everyone knows that the popular entertainer Song Linchuan is crazy about his little aunt. Since the beginning of his career, he has mentioned her on various occasions.

During an interview with a reporter, he was asked, “What kind of girl do you find most adorable?”

He replied, “Someone like my little aunt.”

The reporter was puzzled.

During a fan visit, someone asked him, “What are your plans after filming this drama?”

He replied, “I’m going back to see my little aunt.”

The fans were confused.

As people across the internet were curious about Song Linchuan’s mysterious little aunt, he brought her on a lifestyle variety show. When she appeared on camera, everyone was shocked to see that she was just a pretty girl in her late teens.

On the show, the young girl had an old-fashioned way of speaking and manners, despite her young age.

When Song Linchuan was too busy to eat on time, she said sternly, “Your body is your most valuable asset. Don’t neglect to eat on time, or you’ll get stomach problems!”

When he stayed up late playing games, she scolded him, “Young people should enjoy their games in moderation. Staying up late is not good for your health!”

The netizens teased Song Linchuan, but they also agreed with his little aunt’s advice.

At a fashion magazine photo shoot, Song Linchuan’s shirt collar was a bit low. The young girl approached him and said seriously, “As a boy, how can you dress so revealingly?”

The netizens laughed and said, “Haha, his little aunt is correcting him on how to be a man!”

Meanwhile, another popular entertainer, Pei Kuang, visited Song Linchuan’s house while he was filming a lifestyle show. As soon as he entered, Song Linchuan pulled him over to meet his little aunt.

Song Linchuan said, “Pei Kuang, this is my dear little aunt. Don’t just stand there, she’s your little aunt too. Call her!”

Pei Kuang was speechless.

A few years later, paparazzi caught Pei Kuang walking with a girl who looked like Song Linchuan’s little aunt, Song Anan. They looked intimately close, and everyone online called out to Song Linchuan, “Look, your good friend is about to become your little uncle!”

At that time, Song Linchuan was in the middle of filming in the deep mountains and had no idea what was happening.

The Omnistore SystemChapter 492: Equally embarrassing regalia (R-18)
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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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