I Was Hoping She Would Notice but again Now When She Did... Im Tired - Chapter 264: cook the white rice...damn

“I DON'T WANT TO DIE A SECOND TIME!!!”___Ellen Summers' life turns upside down after a freak accident lands her in a strange world. She wakes up as Ellen Winters, the antagonist in an online novel she once read. No longer an orphan and poor, she now has a loving father and finds herself surrounded by wealth.But in the novel, Ellen Winters meets a tragic fate, dying at the end after being abandoned by her husband, Mason Coldwell, who still harbors feelings for his ex-girlfriend, Aubrey. Determined to escape this cruel destiny, Ellen decides to rewrite her story. She fights to keep Mason and Aubrey apart, knowing the heartbreaking consequences that await if they reunite.However, as she tries to change her fate, Ellen unexpectedly begins to fall for Mason. Just as she starts to believe in a future together, an unforeseen terror disrupts her plans. Ellen wonders if her attempts to alter the storyline have unleashed something darker.Can Ellen truly change the course of fate and find happiness with Mason, or will the shadows of the original story prove too powerful to overcome? And will they survive the terrors that threaten to engulf them?

Her – a glutton without troubles or worries who crossed over and became a young fat chick with a deep vengefulness.

In a world where reality shifts with every roll of the dice, a man daily partakes in an extraordinary game with the gods, his actions dictated by his decisions and the face of the dice. He takes great joy in this game until the tables turn, and he himself becomes a piece on the game board. Now, the dice are in his hands, and it’s his turn to shape his own destiny. It’s time for the Snowman to play his part.

“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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