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... There was a knife, and the pro-Bing, who couldn’t even name Liu Wei, was cut off by the waist.

The east gate was broken and the south gate was broken. Only the north gate and the west gate were left.

The attack of the two doors made more and more Cao Jun in the lower part of the city. Liu Wei had only walked a few hundred meters in one hour. Among them, there were countless killings, and three hundred soldiers had already lost nearly 100 people. There is also a company commander wh ...

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As the head disciple of the number one sect in the world, Luo Jianqing had a brilliant reputation. He was the most respected senior brother of his junior brothers and sisters: the last disciple of the cultivation world’s number one cultivator, Luo Jianqing greatly respected his master’s teachings, not crossing his limits by even half a step.

Afterwards…… he was stabbed to death just like that by the main character with his sword. His master’s sword.
Luo Jianqing: “……”
The heavens wants me dead, yet I refuse to die! See if the will of the heavens is more fearsome, or if the will of my sword is more stubborn!

Wu Yin: “Jianqing, I have something to say to you.”
Luo Jianqing: “Master, I also have something to say to you.”
Wu Yin: “… you speak first?”
Luo Jianqing: “You speak first.”
Wu Yin: “I like you.” / Luo Jianqing: “I want to top you.”
Wu Yin: “……”

- Description from Novelupdates

Do Not Speak Ill of My Mother!Chapter 17 - 0 Have you ever seen a mother who wants her son to die?
 
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【Transmigration+Entertainment Circle Cute Baby+Godly Wealth System+1V1 Double Cleanliness】Yan Yueqing transmigrated into a book, becoming a cannon fodder eighteenth-tier celebrity in a certain kid variety show novel.The female lead shot to fame through the kid variety show, while she, due to her “lick dog” persona, attracted endless cyberbullying.After being blackballed to the point of quitting the industry and jumping into the sea, the female lead not only lived in her house, spent her money, but also used her child to make a counterattack comeback!Yan Yueqing: Thanks for the invite! I'll raise my own son! The female lead can enjoy her own life, just don't get involved with me!A lick dog persona, huh? System: Here's fifty billion, let them witness what it means to lick to the extreme and become wild!Cyberbullying, huh? After the kid variety show aired, fans all over the network started calling her mom!Inside a luxury villa, a little stone-faced boy watched the live broadcast of the wildly popular Yan Yueqing and said indifferently, “Dad, my mom's standards in the future should be based on her.”A certain business tycoon held back his laughter, “That's your biological mom.”Little stone face: ???【ps: A system feel-good story devoid of logic, some plot points allude to reality, and all the tags have been placed. If you mind, don't click.】

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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