Release That Witch - Chapter 1175: Ursrook's Letter

The day she transmigrated it, she was already the wife of two men. She later became the Queen of the country. Her life has been cherished by seven men.

- Description from Novelupdates

Youyou is a mother’s precious daughter. The word she often talks about is: “My mother said…” Therefore, many people laughed at her for not being weaned, but Xu Youyou didn’t care, she still went her own way, determined to be the best mother’s baby girl.
In high school, Xu Youyou was pressed by the domineering school grass against the wall to confess. Xu Youyou frowned and refused: “No, my mother said that the most important thing for students is to study! Otherwise, they will become the scum of society in the future!” Someone who has a single-digit score and hates studying: “….”
In college, a rich and handsome president He wanted to use favorable conditions to help Xu Youyou, but got a contemptuous look from Xu Youyou: “My mother said, there is no such thing as getting something for nothing, if there is, there must be a conspiracy!” The president who wanted to find white moonlight substitute: “….”
*5874 is a system whose mission is to change the miserable fate of the abused heroine Xu Youyou and make her happy. But, look at the little beany who is only three years old in front of her, and look at the terrible environment of the orphanage. The system decides to tell a lie “Youyou don’t be afraid, I’m your mother.”
After fifteen years of conscientious teaching, the system fell into a deep sleep due to a lack of energy. When it woke up again and found Xu Youyou living in a beautiful villa with countless jewels and beautiful clothes. The system was heartbroken: “Baby, why are you still …” Xu Youyou is excited: “Mom! You finally woke up! You were right! The best money in the world is money earned from loving a brainy man! System: “… Did I say that?”

- 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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