Bloodhound's Regression Instinct - Chapter 261 -

Past life, her spirit root was dug out from her body. She had wholeheartedly dedicated herself to the just path, but she was sentenced as an evil demonic cultivator.

Returning back to her juvenile years, she turns the tide. Against natural order, she had been reborn. Those who had deceived and humiliated her, she would return it to them a hundredfold with additional thanks.

Studying her own blood vessels, she recasts the best quality spirit roots. She destroys those rascal clansmen and returned home with glory!

The rules of the world do not hold her down; this time around she kills through the righteous path.

He is the universally admired spirit emperor, high above others, cold, proud and aloof. But every night he sneaks into her room and takes liberties. “Little runt, won’t you think it over?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“You can choose from giving birth once or giving birth twice.”

“Why must I?!”

“Because you stole my heart.”

“I want to be free…”Kaiser Solace always dreamed to be free—from responsibilities, expectations, limits, and even the laws that bound humanity. To him, freedom was ultimate pleasure—an intoxicating dream beyond reach.However, his dream was not something attainable. In truth, true freedom could never exist. Yet, in a world ruled by control and measured by power, Kaiser saw hope in the ability he awakened—[Freedom].Though, raw and incomplete, it fueled his resolve to pursue his dream. With that ability, he slowly carved a path the world had never witnessed—a path to absolute freedom.

In a world of brooding heroes and dark justice, one mercenary stands out—not for his skill, but for his relentless sarcasm and love for chaos. A self-proclaimed anti-hero, he finds himself working with the Titans, much to their frustration. While undeniably skilled in combat and nearly impossible to kill, his real talent lies in driving his teammates insane with endless jokes, fourth-wall breaks, and questionable decision-making. Whether it’s swapping Robin’s gadgets with toy versions, turning serious battles into slapstick comedy, or giving monologues mid-fight, he thrives on pushing everyone’s patience. But beneath the humor, there’s a sharp mind, a tragic past, and a surprising willingness to do what others can’t. While the Titans may roll their eyes at him, they also know that when things get truly dire, he’s the wildcard they need. Love him or hate him—he’s here to stay, and he’s having way too much fun.

“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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