PREVIEW

... ting, don't you like it?" Selvih's words left Hikaru at a loss as to how to respond.

This scenario was indeed very stimulating, of course.

But it also scared Hikaru.

Selvih, of course, didn't stop, and repeatedly used her SSSSS-class oral skills to thoroughly pleasure Hikaru.

Selvih originally intended to stop, but when she heard Hikaru say that she would be given 10% of the profit, she was startled, and then she felt joy. She was so Happy that she almost cried. < ...

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When she stands, she’s like a white peony. When she sits, she’s like a tree peony. When she walks, she’s like a lily flower. And when you look her in the eyes, she’s like the Great King of Terror.

Despite having the qualities to be a peerless bishoujo, because of the look of her eyes and that atmosphere of hers, she’s feared by others; such a girl is forcefully sent to another world.

Being told that she would be granted a wish as a special favour, the girl made a wish────

“Make my eyes and atmosphere normal please.”

This is a story recounting the lifestyle in a parallel world of a girl who would be perfect (probably) if just her one weakpoint was overcome.

A fantasy comedy with magic, dungeons, and a hero and demon king(candidate) who she gets tangled up with.

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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.

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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When Li Xianyu was 20 years old, he received his father’s inheritance, an 18-year-old great-grandmother who was incredibly beautiful.

Li Xianyu: “Great-Grandma, why are you so young?”

Great-Grandma: “That’s because I died when I was 18 years old.”

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Traditional martial cultivation and a budding society of arcane abilities clash in modern Silver City. Are the tried and true paths better, or are flashy arts of overwhelming power the new world order?

Li Hao is dragged out of normality by a song and the death of his childhood friend. Thrown into a war between old and new, he must decide which path to walk. Little do others know that the young man with an easy smile is the textbook definition of playing a pig to eat the tiger. It’s not a matter of finding those who hurt him, but how much he’ll make them pay.

What will it be, qi or magic? But why do decisions always have to be black and white? Can’t he mix his own shade of gray? (etvo’s synopsis)

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According to legend, there is a red-colored portal somewhere in the starry sky that’s stained by blood and fire.

Be it legends or myths, darkness or light, endless legends are flowing within this ancient gate.

Overlooking the Stargate, passionate blood will illuminate the world, and darkness will eventually depart.

……………………………………………………………

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