The Rich Daughter Is A Mob Character, But She's Not Keeping In Line - Chapter 88 - Teasing

Forcefully brought over from the modern world to an alternate world, Wang Chong felt detached and lived his life aimlessly.

However, when calamity struck and he saw his family and everything he cared for being torn apart, he felt regret.

Thus, he stood up and eventually became the Grand Marshal of the Central Plains, leading an army against those who seek to destroy all he cherished.

Yet, despite all his efforts, it was already too late to reverse destiny.

But before his death, a shooting star, the same one which brought him to this world, appeared before him, and he was given another chance to undo his regrets.

Follow Chen Ming as he accepts disciples, establishes a sect, and fights his way in a world that deems him a cannon fodder.
He goes against any common sense using his wits and novel knowhow to finish missions and arm himself against his cruel fate.

“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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As part of the imperial family, every move by Chu Yuan in this game of chess is made with apprehension, fearing that with a moment of inattentiveness, the whole match will be lost in a single move.

Ascending to the throne at eighteen, not half a year passes before civil strife erupts in Yun Nan. Though the thoughts of the old guard at the imperial court are not exactly identical, they are all waiting to see how the new emperor will put an end to this.

Unexpectedly, before this side could make a move, a few thousand miles away, the King of Xi Nan, Duan Bai Yue, had already personally commanded troops to attack in all directions; not half a year had passed when peace was restored.

Sparse moonlight shines into the palace; Chu Yuan stamped the wax seal himself, and had a secret letter sent urgently to Yun Nan 800 miles away — this time, what must we(1) give in exchange?

Brush marks passed through the back of the paper; it almost can be seen, when writing this line, how angry the young emperor was.

Duan Bai Yue spread out a piece of paper unhurriedly, replying with only one word.

You.

Notes:
(1): Chu Yuan is using the royal ‘we’ here.

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