The Golem Mage - Chapter 94 City Hall Incident

Luo Qi learned that her fiancé was cheating emotionally before receiving their marriage certificate, so she broke up with him decisively and called off the wedding.

Her now ex-fiancé was a rising star in the capital venture circle. In the eyes of her relatives, it’s impossible for her to find another man with better conditions than her ex-fiancé at her age. Even her fiancé felt the same way.

That night, Jiang Shenghe, the big boss of the Yuanwei group, suddenly asked her, “Luo Qi, do you want to try with me?”

Luo Qi looked at Jiang Shenghe in astonishment, tongue-tied.

The third son of the Jiang family stood at the top of the elite circle. She was completely different from him, and his so-called trying was nothing more than a whim to play tricks with her. She can’t afford it.

Luo Qi was thinking of finding a reason to reject him. Jiang Shenghe looked at her, and said again: “It’s not a whim, I’ve had you in my thoughts for seven years.”

This year was the seventh year she has been in his heart.

Luo Qi didn’t expect that when she was twenty-nine years old, she went crazy once, hiding the truth from everyone, and obtained a flash marriage certificate with her boss. He said: “The person you want to marry may not be me, but the person I want to marry has always been you .

- Description from Novelupdates

I don’t know why I die, I don’t know why I live.

Divided hunters die of loyalty,

The witch who plays with emotions dies of love,

Cautious fortune-tellers die of trust.

The thief who steals everything has nothing,

The visionary who created everything never existed.

The traveler fell on his way home,

The twilight giants rest before dawn.

Lawyers sacrifice for order,

Judges forget the law.

The sleepless sleeps in the dark,

The corpse collector lay in the coffin.

We are guardians, and a bunch of poor creatures who are constantly fighting against danger and madness.

This journey is life and death.

While drowning was inevitable, they had struggled.

This is the worst of times, this is the best of times.

- Description from novelbuddy

“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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