The Duke’s Eldest Son Escaped to the Military - Chapter 46

Waking up, Kim Hajin finds himself in a familiar world but an unfamiliar body.

The day the apocalypse arrived, Su Mo got utterly chilled by a meteorite fragment.When she woke up, the enchanting young man upstairs asked her, “Do you have a superpower?”“I do!” She silently pulled out a Flat Pot.While being teased, the villain arrogantly put his hands on his hips and said, “You're just a powerless waste.”“Heh,” she said, and with the Flat Pot, she turned his face into a pig's head.Bound to the strongest Cooking God system and dare to call her waste? She could smash your face in a minute.The Arrogant Chapter“My tea, one sip and superpower durability becomes endless.”“My meat, one piece and superpower lethality doubles.”“My dish, one plate guarantees you level up.”“But can you afford them?”

Outdated game streamer Fang Zhou was invited to a romance reality show, but he discovered that out of the five female guests on the show, four were his ex-girlfriends whom he had wronged.He told the pure school beauty: “You’re too innocent, I prefer someone more seductive.”He told the top-tier female star: “Your voice is too high-pitched, I prefer a natural one.”…Facing his abnormal ex-girlfriends, Fang Zhou originally just wanted to keep a low profile, but unexpectedly, the audience started shipping him with his ex-girlfriends.The live broadcast room’s popularity skyrocketed, each episode became explosively popular, and advertisements flooded in.Later, when the ex-girlfriends discovered each other’s identities, he was pressed into a small dark room, looking up at the women’s exquisite faces, and heard them say, “If you don’t behave, we’ll turn you into a specimen, so you’ll never leave us.”Fang Zhou: “I’m doomed, all my wronged ex-girlfriends have turned yandere.”

“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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