PREVIEW

... urface-level reason is not wanting to die further.

Enkrid felt a different kind of fear as he repeated "today."

It was the fear of becoming complacent, the fear that if he did, such an opportunity might never come again.

That was fear for Enkrid.

"Is this what I wanted?"

To settle for today was to live a life of stagnation.

A life where one couldn't move forward.

Hoping for tomorrow was a natural human instinct.

Enkrid, after all, h ...

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Wei Lizhou after awakening: Wouldn’t it be nice to be a second generation? If a good person doesn’t do it, why do you have to be a dog!

Wei Lizhou kicked over his dog-licking script.

When Wei Lizhou first met the protagonist Shou, the protagonist Shou and his brother Yu Yiqing were being made things difficult by a group of dudes.

According to the original plot, Wei Lizhou was supposed to stand up for the protagonist Shou, but this time he saved the protagonist Shou’s cannon fodder brother Yu Yiqing.

Because Yu Yiqing helped Wei’s father when Wei’s family went bankrupt in the original plot.

Wei Lizhou always thought that he saved a poor little boy, so he protected Yu Yiqing like an old hen all day long, worried that Yu Yiqing would be bullied by the protagonist Shou and F4.

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1. Mutual petting is the main attack, the second-generation attack of Doubihao & the little pitiful in the early stage and the big boss in the later stage

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5. Do not mention other articles in the comment area, and please do not mention this article in the comment area of ​​other articles, respect each other

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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.

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*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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