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... unable to move.

In the dark room, in addition to the Lin family's father and daughter, there were several young men and women. These people didn't seem to understand who they were tied to. On the contrary, they seemed very relaxed.

A young man with a blue dragon tattoo on his arm walked in front of Lin Hao. He stepped on Lin Hao's head, and after pulling out the white cloth from the other's mouth, the tattooed young man said with a stern face:

"From now on, whatever I ask, w ...

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The sails of the great voyage have been unfurled.

The steam engine has yet to roar to life.

The glory of the Radiant Lord illuminates the continent, while across the sea, the churches of the gods and mages support the monarchy.

Dwarves freely roam the cities of the kingdom, and the legends of werewolves, vampires, elves, and dragons never fade.

In such an era, Wu Zhou, an emergency department doctor who died from working overtime, transmigrates into the body of Garrett, a young city guard.

Teammate: Oh no! The Captain is seriously injured, his intestines are spilling out!

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Teammate: …What?

Garrett: …Apply a healing spell to where I stitched, let it grow… no, first apply it to the stitched layer, then the muscle layer, and so on.

Teammate: …What?

Garrett: Uh-oh, the healing spell is too fast, the stitches grew inside the wound!!!

When modern medicine meets magic and divine arts, what brilliant sparks will it ignite in this New world?

Garrett: Learning magic, mastering divine arts, expanding territories, and clashing with the church… whether you believe it or not, I just wanted to open a hospital.

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The Omnistore SystemChapter 492: Equally embarrassing regalia (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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