MTL - Fantasy Family Simulator - Chapter 242 Arrive at Donglan Coast (ask for a monthly ticket, recommended ticket)

The rebellious, rich second-generation Chi Xueyan was forced to go on a blind date for the 11th time. He cut straight to the chase: I have a hot temper, I snore when I sleep, and I haven’t deleted my countless exes. If you can accept it, we will get the marriage certificate on the spot.

The handsome man named He Qiao sat opposite him and was silent for a moment with a strange expression. Then he nodded and said he was a book transmigrator. He knew that Chi Xueyan was the supporting male villain in this novel role and would become the future marriage partner of the protagonist Lu Siyi. He gradually lost himself in an increasingly paranoid unrequited love, did all sorts of bad things and eventually died.

He Qiao couldn’t bear to see Chi Xueyan, who was still active and healthy, end up like that. Therefore, he proposed to marry Chi Xueyan to avoid the plot. In any case, he was a workaholic straight man who only wanted to use the information from the novel to develop his career for the benefit of the public.

Chi Xueyan heard this and suddenly realized: Use advance as a retreat and use the typical schizophrenic symptoms to scare off blind dates. This person was an expert.

He decisively remembered this trick and waved his hand to pay the bill as his token of appreciation.

Soon, Chi Xueyan ran into a handsome man who completely matched his aesthetics. Moreover, he didn’t hesitate to take the initiative to ask for the other person’s name and contact information.

As a result, the handsome man replied with an indifferent expression, “I am Lu Siyi.”

Chi Xueyan: “……!!!”

This name was too familiar.

Two weeks later, under the gazes of his relatives and friends, Chi Xueyan affectionately exchanged rings and kisses with his 11th blind date and the mysterious book transmigrator, He Qiao.

Initially, He Qiao was very wary of Chi Xueyan, the scheming and vicious villain of the novel. After the two of them cooperated to pretend to love each other and tricked their families into allowing them to get married smoothly, he planned to focus on his career and not interfere with the other person.

However, Chi Xueyan finally settled down from the chaos and started seriously studying the novel’s plot. He would occasionally come to the company to find He Qiao.

Unlike the arrogant and willful boss’ wife that the employees imagined, Chi Xueyan mostly curled up on the sofa with a small blanket while quietly reflecting on his 2D life.

Occasionally, he would raise his head and ask, “Did Lu Siyi never like me at all?”

“…Yes.”

“He has no vision.” Chi Xueyan sneered and rolled over. “How did he become the male protagonist when you are obviously much better than him!”

He Qiao didn’t know why, but the investment plan in his hand suddenly became unsatisfactory.

What a scheming villain.

On the first anniversary of their agreed-upon wedding, He Qiao arranged the most romantic dinner and the brightest roses. He met Chi Xueyan’s blank eyes and finally asked the question he had been worrying about in his heart for a long time.

“You have a good temper and you sleep very quietly so…” He Qiao seemed casual. “Is it true that you haven’t deleted any of your exes?”

Chi Xueyan: “……”

What a scheming straight man.

- Description from Novelupdates

Look, I’m Riven Kael.Twenty-eight, data analyst, zero ambition beyond paying rent and avoiding small talk. My life was spreadsheets, instant ramen, and the occasional ghost I pretended not to see.Then one mandatory company gala, because of course it was mandatory, turned into the universe’s worst prank.I touched a cursed amulet.I just touched it.Next thing I know, I’m waking up in a penthouse that costs more than my entire bloodline, sporting a glowing marriage sigil on my wrist, legally and magically hitched to Azryth Valek.Yes, that Azryth Valek.The CEO of half the planet, a walking sin in a three-piece suit, an ancient demon lord who was literally sealed inside said amulet until I accidentally set him free.He says we’re bound. Separation means both of us die slowly and painfully.Soul-consumption optional but very much on the table if I’m stupid enough to fall for him. Which, newsflash, I am not. I’m not.Shut up.So now I’m living with an unfortunately hot CEO from hell, dodging assassination attempts disguised as corporate mergers, banishing spirits that show up at my desk like unpaid interns, and pretending we’re a power couple for the cameras while he smirks like he knows exactly how much I want to strangle him. Or kiss him. Or both.Brain, we are not doing this.I didn’t sign up for boardroom battles, multiversal rifts, or the terrifying realization that the arrogant demon who ruined my life might be the only one who truly sees me.But here I am. Still complaining, still fighting, still falling, against every shred of common sense, hopelessly, stupidly, irrevocably in love.Because when the universe marries you to the devil, it doesn’t ask for consent.It just hands you the ring.And damn it, I’m keeping it.

“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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