MTL - Hollywood Lover - Chapter 551 A car shock?

This stands at the forefront of strategy guides to Life (a shitty video game)!

On their first wedding anniversary, she almost had a miscarriage after a fall, while Fu Yanshen anxiously carried another woman into the hospital. It was at that moment Mu Chenxi realized she was just a substitute. Four years of tender love had all been a lie. For the sake of her child, she wanted to give him another chance. She waited all night, only for him to stay out until morning, returning with traces of another woman all over him. Her heart turned to ash, and she thrust a divorce agreement into his hands, “Fu Yanshen, let's get a divorce.” That was the moment Fu Yanshen truly panicked.

He is the genuine diamond bachelor of G City, ranking first in terms of net worth,Everyone knows that he had a deep and unforgettable love,But no one knows that, five years ago, he had a nominal marriage;She is the super nurse of G City People Hospital, with neither wealth nor high education,Everyone knows that she is divorced and has a child in tow,But no one knows that her ex-husband, the father of her child, is the man at the very top of the pyramid.Scene One:On the day she was diagnosed to be pregnant, her husband registered on the marriage certificate came back.The next day, at the breakfast table, an A4 sheet of paper appeared very abruptly by his right hand.“This is a divorce agreement, please sign it.” She said, her internal organs trembling.“...Is there someone else?” He put down his chopsticks, looked at her, and asked calmly, his eyebrows almost imperceptibly twitching.He came back because there was something he wanted to talk to her, but now it seemed unnecessary.“...Yes.” Having a child should count as having someone else, because from now on, she would love her child.When they got married back then, he had said that if she had a lover, she could ask him for a divorce.“Alright, I understand.” He nodded, picked up the agreement on the table, and left.“...”Scene Two:“What's your name?”“Axel Hawkins.”“Your last name is Hawkins?” The mother's name is Carolline Ruiz, his ex-wife, and the father's column is left blank, isn't it?“Yes, my dad's name is Bryan Hawkins, he's a Sky Walker.”“...”At five in the afternoon, Carolline Ruiz picked up her son from school and saw him standing next to her son; she instinctively turned around and ran.Bryan Hawkins left Axel Hawkins in the Guard Room, warned him not to run around, and then chased after her with his long legs.“Carolline Ruiz, stop.”“..” Almost instinctively, she really stopped.He slowly walked over and stood in front of her, a tall and imposing figure blocking all the setting sun.Carolline Ruiz couldn't help but look up, the afterglow of the setting sun illuminating his face, she couldn't see his features clearly at all.“What are you running for? If you dare to secretly love for eight years, do you dare to openly love for a lifetime?”“...”

“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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