Don't Come to Wendy's Flower House - Chapter 12

In this world, a cataclysm has caused the appearance of monsters and other disasters, emerging from dimensional rifts and gradually pushing the world toward its destruction. To face it, some humans having awakened various magical powers are fighting against this apocalypse.

Dora, one of them, has a special “Avatar” class which gives her access to all the other classes, at the cost of great difficulty to level them up. Despite his enormous potential, he chose to appear incompetent to get his team kicked, just so he could live a lazy life with his family, but his habit of fighting and beating the woman's brother the strongest in the Kingdom reveals her talents and she decides to enroll her in the royal academy.

Reluctant at first, his mother gives him the motivation he needs to pursue this past, but little did they know what kind of monster they threw to the world. Dora is not a hero wishing for peace, but a monster getting addicted to the taste of power, wealth, and freedom.

With his strange condition of being not one but many people inside one body, each with a different personality, but the same thirst for more, “they” use a strange system giving them a new vision of the world around them.

Dora pursues an unknown goal until he meets someone who knows more about his true nature than himself and sets him on a path that will nourish his eternal first, to the cost of his humanity, but in a world collapsing, isn't a monster the greatest weapon?

With many personalities in one body, each having a different relationship with different people, a system taking them further and further away from their humanity, and an increasingly hostile world where humans kill each other while monsters slaughter them, could the situation be worse?

Well, it looks like Dora isn't the only one with a system.

……………………………………………………………

Dear readers! Without any ads, maybe you will prefer .

Before Wufu was reborn, she had no idea there was such a thing as rebirth. Only after her rebirth did she realize Heaven must have thought her previous life was too smooth, so it sent her to suffer in this ancient land where morality, decency, and the Female Precepts were held in high esteem, pitiful indeed! From being a master jade carver to having her soul transmigrate into a farm girl with a wretched background, she was bullied and humiliated. Even the bun-selling mother advised her that forbearance is gold? Bullshit! She could endure, but her other identity absolutely could not—robbers, swept away; insults to her mother, you're crippled... Wufu has a saying, for every insult and humiliation, I will repay a hundredfold. But what's with this one? He doesn't bully her; he only wants to sleep with her? And he even dares... to mount her? Well, a lord can endure, but Wufu cannot. Mount him back, life or death, a hundred years, neither owes the other anything!

In one moment, he was walking down the street with his little sister—In the next, he had traveled to the world of One Piece, carrying a system that could extract, record, and fuse genes to cultivate powerful lifeforms.Thus began a leisurely and carefree life in the most chaotic world imaginable.When bored, he’d snatch a bit of heavenly tribute meant for the Celestial Dragons.When curious, he’d raise a few cute kittens and bunnies just for fun.When restless, he’d wander through the territories of the most fearsome powers in the New World.Life is beautiful—so why bother taking anything seriously?

“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.]

……………………………………………………………

Dear readers! Without any ads, maybe you will prefer .