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... a serious strike from Mateus. And yet, he still had his grin on his face. That was proof that he didn’t think much of it. Even his heavy attack spoke for itself for being no more than means of restraint.

“Kh!?”

It was extremely dangerous to block a master swordsman’s swing with a tender thread. As such, I used my dagger to block instead, but I was easily flung all the way back to the wall. It was the wall separated from the windows and the door. 𝙛𝘳𝘦e𝓌e𝗯n𝗼ѵ𝙚l.𝒄𝚘𝑚

...

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Li Wanqiu didn’t like Ji Jinyan’s restrained, sexual and serious appearance, and set a flag when meeting her for the first time: “I’m not interested in people older than myself.”

I thought she would be furious, but Ji Jinyan not only didn’t feel displeased at all, but just smiled lightly, as if he was looking at a three-year-old child, as if he didn’t take her seriously at all.

Li Wanqiu was unhappy, recognized that she was not the same as him, subconsciously wanted to stay away, but was always inexplicably involved with her, guided when she lost her way, hugged by her when drunk, even if she was on a business trip, she lived alone next door.

At a banquet, Li Wanqiu got drunk again, dazedly hooked Ji Jinyan’s collar and started provoking, but didn’t want to be taught by Ji Jinyan’s hands clasped instead, with deep eyes.

Every word, Li Wanqiu blushed immediately when she said it, she was stunned for a while before she realized, and asked her with tears in her eyes: “What did you say, you are called Jinyan…”

Before she finished speaking, she was kissed on the lips by the person in front of her. Seeing her raise her eyebrows and chuckle, she opened her lips and said slowly: “That’s right, I sincerely say that I do abide by it on weekdays.”
“But being cautious has nothing to do with me.”

Later, Li Wanqiu finally mustered up the courage to pass a small note to ask her, “Do you hate me?”

That night, she received a bouquet of blooming daisies, and there was a piece of paper hidden among the flowers. When she opened it, the word Hate was crossed out secretly and replaced with a sincere confession.

–“no.”

“It’s too late to like you.”

Age difference, Gong and Shou are 7 years old, black-bellied and introverted boss Gong x Fried-haired Tsundere Miss

[Seeing you, I lost my soul, and I will give you all the thousands of stars and the tenderness in my heart. 】

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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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