(Um, Sorry) I’ve Been Reincarnated! - 138 – If Prepared

The omega Luci, who came to Earth for the first time, thought that she was bound to die, so she indulged once, but unexpectedly discovered that the people on Earth can also delay her fever period, giving her hope of surviving.
The manager brought her into the set and warned her repeatedly not to mess with Teacher Chi.
She looked at the beautiful woman, her eyelids twitched slightly, sorry, it’s over.
Others said that Chi Yinghou was cold and indifferent, a flower of the high mountains, who could only be seen from a distance, but not touched. Thinking of her cramped appearance that day, Lu resigned.
During the filming, Lu Ci played the role of the high-cold president. His aloof and indifferent demeanor amazed the audience. After the performance, Chi Shuang handed her the sleeve and asked, “Touch my clothes to see if I am the wife of the president.” material?”
Lu Ci: ………?
At the awards ceremony, backstage, Chi Shuang blocked her in the dressing room, “Little Luer, I haven’t seen you for so long, do you miss me?”
The corners of Lu Ci’s eyes twitched slightly, looking at the man’s restless hands, “It’s only been two hours.”
When seeing that person always trying his best to have intimate contact with him, Lu Ci once thought it was the sequelae caused by her ingesting too much of her own pheromone, and with a little apology, tried to cooperate with her thoughts.
It was only later that I realized, huh, a certain person’s nature was just revealed 🙂
————
The original point of view is the main subject, but because there are a small amount of mutual attack in the text, it will inevitably cause discomfort, so the point of view is changed to mutual attack.

Content tags: entertainment circle, slapping face, sweet article, cool article
Search keywords: Protagonist: Lu Ci, Chi Shuang ┃ Supporting role: ┃ Others: abo
One-sentence introduction: Did Teacher Chi see his wife today?
Conception: The world regards me as worthless, but I bloom like a rose

- Description from novelbuddy

Lin Luoran is a 27-year-old girl from a rural family. She doesn’t have a college degree, let alone any money.

“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.]

……………………………………………………………

Dear readers! Without any ads, maybe you will prefer .

The world’s top ten conglomerates had joined forces to create a programme where the crew had quietly evacuated all the people from a city, leaving behind only Raymond and his family, who were kept in the dark. Their purpose was to see this child, who had emerged from the slums of America, get humiliated.