S.P.E.C.T.O.R - Chapter 412: See, this is what I’m talking about

[Warning : Mature content : Lemons]Leon is reborn as a healer in the crumbling village of Eldwood, he wields a power as potent as it is provocative: the ability to cure curses, heal wounds, and even ignite temporary magical prowess by borrowing magic from his harem—all fueled by lustful, erotic encounters.Leon is not only a healer but using his magic he can also gain temporary magical powers, where he can make his own spells by combining the powers of different women.He has to fight against the demon lords and save the world using his powers and his harem of selective women and his very versatile magical powers, which are lust driven and erotic and powerful.

Kim Taejune, wanted to be a “hero,” a “savior” to all the weak. After reading books about them, he too wanted to be one. Yet he lacked power, he didn't have any skills, and the command system everyone else had but one day, his dream will come true. His path leads him to encounter Yoon Harin a woman who after the death of her twin younger brother Yoon Jiho was transmigrated into his novel, “Calamity Hunter” the “god” of this world makes a deal with Yoon Harin to bring her brother back to life IF she can survive as a savior till the end.

A top hacker was chosen by the Lord God to be reborn into countless worlds, always as an expendable villain.

With no free will, every world became a dead end. Every one of his lives ended tragically.

Finally, after wresting control of the Villain System, this ace hacker decided to enact revenge. Even if his very bones were rotten, he’d choose to occupy the very heights of morality, if only on the surface.

Thus, he would change his fate as an abused slag.

- Description from novelupdates

“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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