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... emains of the stumpy tree had already turned to ashes, which quickly dissipated into the air until there was nothing left.


Ready to pounce on its prey, the golden ringed vines were like a scattered fishnet and also like a golden ringed spider.


They glared at Ai Hui maliciously, moving toward him like a large wave and swallowing him in no time.


Ai Hui immediately felt his hair stand on end. He arched his back slightly like a frightened cat, returning the deadly ...

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Science and magic exist side by side in this world.

This is the peak of the science side with a curriculum for espers, Academy City. In this city where 80% of the population are students, the season has finally come when all residents are excited and fidgety!

It’s Christmas Eve.

Amidst the city showing a cheerful hustle and bustle, ordinary boy who can’t keep up with school, Kamijou Touma, also doesn’t intend to miss this event! He was hard at work in his supplementary lessons…

A backward glance from the default misfortune-prone bastard, the silver-haired sister freeloading in his dormitory, Index, in the heart pounding scene different from the usual, activates a new gluton skill!? While Kamijou tries to desperately stop that, Misaka Mikoto taken in by the Christmas Eve atmosphere appears before him.

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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.

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“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?”

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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.

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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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