My Mr. Gu is Courting Death Again - Chapter 745 - Return to Being Indifferent (1)

Getting lost in a trip made Tang Siyu be mistaken for streetwalker, and she lost her wedding night. After returning home, she found the fiance cheat her with her sister. She cancelled the wedding in anger and declared missing.

Five years later, she came back with her gifted son. Unexpectedly, her baby took part in the piano competition in order to find his father. “My name is Tang Bao, my mother is Tang Siyu who is super beautiful! I am four and a half years old this year. If there is a man who looks like me may be my father. Please contact me! ” Behind the scenes, a woman was mad. A few days later, the mysterious man called himself the father of her child. Tang Siyu looks at this tall and handsome man who looks like her son. She is angry. So, he was the bastard five years ago?

When Shen Xinghui, an ordinary young man, is suddenly transported to a fantastical world, he finds himself surrounded by incredible beings like Beast Man, Dragon Man, and even Demons.Struggling to adapt in a place where the rules of life, magic, and even biology are wildly different, Shen Xinghui must rely on the guidance of Ignatius, a noble Dragon Man.As Shen Xinghui learns about this world’s diverse cultures, powerful magic, and the ever-present mystery of how he arrived, he discovers that he’s not the first outsider to find himself here—and perhaps not the last.With no clear way back home, Shen Xinghui embarks on a journey to the capital of the Cindralith Kingdom, determined to carve out a place for himself in this strange yet wondrous land. Along the way, he uncovers secrets about the world—and himself—that will change his destiny forever.

The second moon marked the beginning of a revolutionary change.

With the emergence of monsters and dungeons in modern society, and the ability users who fight against them, the world faces a shift in its paradigm.

It heralds the advent of a new energy source and the decline of traditional occupations.

Common sense thus becomes warped and imagination becomes reality.

“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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