I, the Weakest Human, Start with a Hundredfold Bonus Talent！ - Chapter 90 - -The Sanders Family

In his past life, the beta Su Liang dared to seduce Lu Zhizhao, the future of the Lu family, and eloped.

In the end, after burning down all his boats with no hesitation, Su Liang realized that he was nothing but a big joke.

Su Liang gave up everything, and died silently on the day after Lu Zhizhao’s marriage to someone else.

Reliving a life, the courageous fool of that year finally learned to accept his fate.

This time, Su Liang honestly accepted that he was an unfavoured and mediocre beta, feeling that this bland and undemanding life was quite good.

After all, the way of the salted fish is the best way.

But after just a few peaceful days, he was sent into the forbidden area, in the depths of the noble’s compound.

Lu Taipan – who used to be a big boss, is now a big boss, who will always be the kind of sinister and ruthless big boss who would make everyone tremble with fear when he comes out.

However, it was this top-level alpha who single-handedly supported the Lu Family, but suffered from pheromone disorder.

And, the place where he rested, was a forbidden place in the eyes of everyone.

No matter how many things Su Liang thought about, he didn’t expect Lu Taipan to embrace him in the frenzy of his pheromone disorder.

Then, he bit the back of his neck with a single bite.

“Your pheromones…. smells good.”

The devil-like man, like a beast, scented the pheromones on his body, and muttered greedily.

Su Liang was horrified to discover that Lu Taipan and him became more and more intimate. He, who was supposed to be a beta, somehow began to develop unusual pheromone glands.

From a beta, he was now an omega.

Moreover, he was an omega who matched perfectly with Lu Taipan.

- Description from Novelupdates

”When I tell you to proceed with Plan A, you can’t just ignore it and go with Plan B,” said the king.

“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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