MTL - Martial God Conqueror - Chapter 2933 : Epee without front and poisonous witch [large

“It’s fine, everything can be restarted.”Gu Huanyue opened her eyes slowly and a smile shown on her face.In her previous life, she was betrayed by her relatives and missed the right one eventually.Now that the god gave her another chance, she must regain all her lost and let those people who hurt her pay the price.This time, her business was developed and expanded so quickly with the help of her super EQ & IQ.She became the most shining and rich one. All kinds of handsome men were attracted by her beauty and became her loyal followers.However, she won’t never forget that man. A guy who truly love her so much.He: “Huanyue, would you like to marry me?”She: “Why did he not follow my plan? But yes, I do.”

(Isekai, Fantasy, Non-transmigration, Unconventional, Ensemble cast, Meticulously crafted setting, Multiple identities, Light novel, Succubus)I have many masks, and each has its own story.I am the unremarkable little artist of the Church of Dawn; the strongest apprentice in the gladiator arena; the killing machine in the eyes of goblins... The holy nun beneath the sunlight is me, and so is the old gentleman on the train... I have hurried through underground tunnels in escape, and I have left behind beautiful legends on the frontier...Beneath the mask, there is an even more beautiful mask; within the lie, there often lies a hidden truth...My name is Ogre. A child raised by ogre since birth. It's a pleasure to meet you.

“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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Dear tired Reader, it is an honor that you have chosen this book amidst the heavy, gloomy aisles of the Library.It is with some regret, however, that I must inform you this book is ill.Your fingers should be able to feel the raised Proliferation of tissues on the surface of the Skin of the book,The words written in days of old are like Parasites taking root in the pages, longing for someone to observe their writhing,To sense, to decipher, and to touch the very essence of this sick story.If you insist on borrowing this book, please be sure to regularly check your own physical condition.Keep in mind.