MTL - Zombie Sister Strategy - Chapter 11 Controlled zombies

I am the sword.
Killing a man amidst a thousand miles, no one dares take ten steps.
Killing a man amidst a thousand miles, no one can take ten steps.
Killing a man amidst a thousand miles, ten steps? Not possible!
I am the sword, the sword is me,
On the path towards heaven, each shall wield their own.

When he awoke, Pei Yi had transmigrated into the wealthy young master of the same name in a book.

The original owner was ten years old when he fell into the pool and nearly drowned. When he woke up again, he was a mentally impaired child and became the laughingstock of the entire Imperial Capital circle.

The profit-oriented elders regarded him as a bargaining chip for business transactions, and followed the instigation and arrangements of the Bo family to make him marry the Second Young Master Bo, who was blinded in a car accident.

A fool and a blind man, this was obviously a humiliation.

It was a pity that others didn’t know that Second Young Master Bo was the most important villain in the book.

Not only would his eye disease be cured, but he would become the only person with authority in the Bo family.

As for the foolish original owner, after being kicked out of the Bo residence by the protagonist of the original book, he still couldn’t escape the fate of falling into the river and dying tragically.

. . .

Knowing the plot of the book he transmigrated into, Pei Yi met “his” nominal marriage partner, Bo Yueming, not long after—

With a golden figure and long legs, a god-given handsome face and a strong waist, the point was that the other party was still blind! He could do what he wanted without fear of being watched!

Very good, this marriage must be finalized!

While playing the role of a fool, Pei Yi used the cover of the Bo family to make a lot of money in private.

Taking advantage of “being cannon-fodder” in the original plot, Pei Yi earned enough savings and planned to leave the Bo family, but in the end, his way out was precisely blocked by Bo Yueming.

“Where are you going?”

Those eyes were no longer lifeless and gloomy, but full of unrelenting possessiveness.

“……Aren’t your eyes still blind?”

“I was pretending.”

“? ? ?”

. . .

The second young master of the Bo family had a secret that no one knew. In order to seize power and get revenge, after the car accident, he resorted to tricks and pretended to be ill in order to relax the vigilance of the enemies in his family.

For this reason, he would rather endure the words of others about this ridiculous marriage, but what he didn’t expect was that the foolish young master of the Pei family was also pretending—

When this person shouted, “I want to drink milk,” he turned around and poured the fine wine from his wine cabinet into his mouth.

When this person shouted, “Wear bear pajamas,” he would swing in front of him in his nightgown with long, bare legs showing.

When this person shouted, “Husband, protect me,” he turned his head and planned to beat the relative who had bullied him into the ground.

Bo Yueming never exposed the cute behavior of his partner, but just got along with him better and better one day after another, until a certain day—

Pei Yi said sweetly, “Goodnight, husband,” but in the next second, he swaggered out with his luggage and planned to run away.

Bo Yueming: Stop pretending, wife is trying to run away? 🙂

- Description from Novelupdates

“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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