Previous chapter: Chapter 27
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... r the other three special force soldiers, they each had a machine gun locked onto one bodyguard each. The safety of every gun was off, and each had their finger on the trigger.

“I’m going to count to three. Put the guns down, and no one will die.” Zhou Rong’s eyes swept past the faces of the bodyguards, and he spoke slowly. “However, if someone shoots first, you’re all going to die. I guarantee that you’ll end up like paste.”

“One...”

“Two...”

Before he could say ...

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A ring-shaped bio-computer produced in 3009 AD, traversing the space and time onto Du Cheng’s head, a powerful intelligent program let Du Cheng tapped into high-tech knowledge in the next millennium.

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——From an illegitimate child who was driven out of the family to the economic leader, creating a business empire, Du Cheng’s future is the road to the ultimate glory.

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In every story, there exists the hero and the villain, the protagonist and the antagonist.And like every story, the hero always wins, and always gets the girl.But what happens now that I died and became a villain in the last book I read? Not even a proper villain, but one that the protagonist kills in the early chapters.I don't want to die again, and I don't want that simp of a protagonist to walk all over me. Maybe I should just become a better villain.I've always admired the smart badass villains that took on the protagonist. Maybe I can be one of them, maybe I can win—the first villain to win against the hero.I'll rewrite this story into one where I become the greatest villain. Call me sick or evil, but it's my time to shine.

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People all say that the fourth daughter of the Marquis of Jing’an is really lucky. She is favored in the palace, has heirs and has a good family background. That is really a great thing! In fact, Shen Chuliu himself didn’t know how he got to this point.

It was like this at first. The concubine next to her was playing the piano and dancing. Shen Chuliu said that I was not a performer.

The concubine next to her was writing poems and painting, and Shen Chuliu said that I didn’t want to take the imperial examination. People laughed at her and said she was not favored. She smiled slightly and said, “I have a family background.”

The emperor really has no choice. If the concubine doesn’t come to please her, he still has to see her! Who said someone’s mother’s family is really awesome? Shen Chuliu really didn’t care. Those bastard relatives liked him so much that he started to let himself go as soon as he entered the palace.

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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.

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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