Superstar From Age 0 - Chapter 565:

“Your stats are lower than that of your average person.”

The weakest by a mile among the otherworldlers of class 1-A, Takatsuki Makoto.

The Heroes and Sages who had cheat skills in his class had went off, and the base set lifespan is 10 years?

The Great Demon Lord is going to revive soon?

I am a Mage Apprentice?

Isn’t the balance way too bad? This damn Isekai is a tr*sh game!

“Want to be my believer?”, the Goddess that told me this has zero believers!

Aah, this is bad…I don’t think I can clear this. The Goddess with zero believers is an incredible beauty, and she is telling me she is imprisoned somewhere and is waiting to be saved. My last and hardest mission is to save the Goddess.

Clearing this Isekai that only has adversities, the story of the weakest mage.

(Warning: Mature Content - R-18)The Ultimate Heartbreaker Reincarnates, Only to Find Himself a Pathetic Pushover?In his past life, he had gone out of his way to win their affection, humbling himself to the point of self - annihilation. But how did they repay him?His first love abandoned him for a wealthy heir, mocking him as delusional and naive.His childhood friend despised his devotion, pretending not to recognize him when they crossed paths.And the queen bee of the school? She sneered at him, refusing to even glance in his direction.But now, the man has been reborn—cold, detached, and effortlessly commanding both power and allure. Women fall under his spell without hesitation.Until one day—His first love appeared before him in a slinky strapless dress, her eyes shimmering with tears, her voice trembling: “Please… give me another chance, Master. I’ll do anything you ask…”His childhood friend was pinned against the door, her breath uneven, her gaze filled with desperate longing: “Master, even if it’s just as your secret lover—I’d be willing…”The once - arrogant queen bee shed her coat, leaning close to whisper in his ear, her breath warm and shaky: “Master… please, let me make it up to you…”He let out a low chuckle, his long fingers trailing over their heated cheeks, his eyes glinting with mockery and disdain. “You want me now?” he murmured, his tone icy. “Too bad. You’re too late.”

Song Zhiyi is really annoying.
Meng Xi has hated her since she was a student and competed with her.
After a dream, she realized that she was living in a novel.
Song Zhiyi is the heroine and a natural winner.
And she’s just a nasty supporting actress who needs to be brought down.
There’s nothing wrong, the heroine and the supporting actress are not born to deal with each other.
Meng Xi became more and more difficult for her, poured her red wine at the banquet, and asked the bodyguard to send her brother to the hospital…
The worst part is that he kissed her when he was drunk.
I don’t know when, everyone thinks they have a leg.
Meng Xi sneered at them: “Bah!”
But Song Zhiyi himself said, “Meng Xi, what kind of relationship do we have?”
Meng Xi was cold to her… unable to get cold: “…”
The arrogant and domineering young lady and the pitiful black and white lotus.
It’s cookies, it’s a weird two-way crush.

Content tags: The rich and powerful family has a soft spot, sweet text, wears books
Search keywords: Protagonist: Meng Xi, Song Zhiyi ┃ Supporting role: ┃ Others:
One-sentence introduction: It’s also really worthy of love
Concept: true love is to understand each other, respect each other, and make people pursue a better self

- Description from novelbuddy

“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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