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... usand explosive tags-it was like thirty thousand grenades going off

simultaneously! The power of this explosion was so intense that it could have destroyed a large part of Sunagakure!

Rasa's eyebrows twitched violently as he watched.

Is this for real? So many explosive tags?

Even the entire stock of explosive tags in Sunagakure wouldn't be much more than this, right? And this woman from Akatsuki just casually unleashed so many tags in a single attack against Sunag ...

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Lin Xin Er comments: She’s need I.Q

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Du Qianqian : the heroine of ” Exhausting the Prosperity “, a white lotus flower of the Virgin Mary, whose IQ is more worrying than the villainess, finally jumped off the cliff and died under the persecution of the villainess.

Lin Xin Er commented: she deserves it.

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Lin Xin Er: the reader of ” Exhausting the Prosperity “, one of the oldest leftover women in the 21st century. One of her major hobbies in life is cheating around and take it as a business.

So, she transmigrate to “Exhausting the Prosperity” and became Yin Yin.

——Life, perhaps, is just a chess game with exquisite layout. But the players are different.

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Zaria of the village of Latian. A former skilled mercenary with a strong, beautiful face and a tall, voluptuous body, she fell in love at first sight with the kind and gentle villager Albert, and since then has quit rough work and lived as a married woman devoted to him. It seemed as though their happy days would continue forever, but one day her husband Albert was injured at work, and he was barely able to stand or walk. To cover her immediate living expenses and her husband's medical expenses, Zaria uses her “previous job” to become a sword instructor for the son of a certain lord, but...

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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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