True Heiress Cuts Ties, The Marquis Household Bitterly Regrets - Chapter 29 - 28: Then Die Once More!

There once was a boy who was an orphan and suffered abuse from his village residents. The only friend he had was the dummy scarecrow on the field, whom he talked to. One day, a wealthy man brutally beat the boy. The next morning, the wealthy man was found dead, and the scarecrow was covered in blood. Terrified, the villagers were convinced that the scarecrow had come to life to avenge its tormented friend. And it was the last scarecrow ever placed again in the fields, considering it a sign of death. — After scarecrow dolls begin appearing in the streets of Riddleford next to murder victims, the town is thrown into chaos.When the hunt for the mystery scarecrow murderer begins, it is only a matter of time before the famous Frontier Hall Opera House employees are subjected to suspicion, each protecting a secret of their own. But is that all that is going on? Or is there something unseen?

She choked to death after drinking a mouthful of cold water. Was there anything more unlucky than this?

Of course, there was! When she reopened her eyes, she found herself transmigrated into a three-hundred-pound fatty.

Not only was she fat and round, but she also had a palm-sized black spot on her body.

She looked down at the layers of swimming floats on her body and swore to exercise and lose weight.

She had just lifted her leg when she collapsed to the ground. This time, she was prepared to go on a diet and lose weight.

When she heard the earth-shattering rumbles from her stomach, she held herself back.

She had not eaten for three days, but she realized that she had only lost one tael.

She instantly broke down. Sensing that something was wrong, she checked and realized that she had been poisoned.

As a descendant of a family that practiced traditional Chinese medicine, this was a small matter.

With acupuncture techniques in her hands, why would she be afraid of a little poison?

Before she could succeed in losing weight, the scumbag canceled their engagement and her stepsister came to provoke her.

‘It’s fine. Staying calm is more important. What? Does he dare to call me an ugly pig, a fat woman, a fatty? This is intolerable!’ With her acupuncture skills, she was able to detoxify the poison and become beautiful.

Using her competence, she managed to face-slap everyone and lose weight while torturing scum.

After accidentally rescuing a chronically ill uncle, he turned out to be her scumbag ex-fiance’s uncle.

She smiled maliciously and said, “Uncle, you should give yourself to me in return for rescuing your life!” When she saw the scumbag again, she said warmly, “My good nephew, call me Auntie.”

Persona:

Song Jiaren: Vengeful for the smallest grievance, naughty, and cheeky.

Yan Cheng: Two-faced, strong, patient, and cunning.

“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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