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... yi thought that its color and shape were too exaggerated, and he found an agent to sell it.

In fact, it is not only the Ferrari that is listed for sale, but also another property that Yang Yuntian left to Yang Yunzhe.

The original owner also had some feelings for Yang Yuntian when he was a child, and even envied Yang Zilong, who was much loved by Yang Yuntian. However, his heart has already been damaged by Yang Yuntian, the mother and child of Xiao Can Yang Zilong.

Especiall ...

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“Destiny is a matter of Choice not Chance,

It is not a thing to be waited for but a thing to be Achieved”

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The story sets in a mana blessed world, Planet Vermillion, where every being possesses a System.

At the edge of his life, Zero, a man without a System, finally loses everything and embraces his death with a tired yet relieved expression.

As if by fate, the owner of the system approaches Zero through a screen and gives him a chance to connect with the System, however Zero denies it in exchange for a chance to change or undo all the mistakes he has done in his life.

The owner of the System accepts Zero’s wishes but at a certain price and sends Zero back into the past.

Still without a System, but with the knowledge of the future and various skills honed over the years, Zero begins his new journey to change everything he could.

Save everyone who needs to be saved and kill everyone who needs to be killed.

However, the more he moves forward, the more he realises that the ‘truths’ which he had known in his previous life are much more complicated than what they seem.

Balancing his previous beliefs and the new found mysteries that could shatter his perspective, he still keeps moving forward despite things getting more chaotic with every step.

As if fate itself wanted him to fall, an unknown disaster approaches him from behind and a familiar screen comes in front of him

[Ummm… Zero. It might be a bit late but… Looks like I have messed up big time]

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The Omnistore SystemChapter 465: Broken worlds pieces (R-18)
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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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