Demoness, where are you Fleeing to? - Chapter 1046 - 839 Rolling Snowball 2

Look, I’m Riven Kael.Twenty-eight, data analyst, zero ambition beyond paying rent and avoiding small talk. My life was spreadsheets, instant ramen, and the occasional ghost I pretended not to see.Then one mandatory company gala, because of course it was mandatory, turned into the universe’s worst prank.I touched a cursed amulet.I just touched it.Next thing I know, I’m waking up in a penthouse that costs more than my entire bloodline, sporting a glowing marriage sigil on my wrist, legally and magically hitched to Azryth Valek.Yes, that Azryth Valek.The CEO of half the planet, a walking sin in a three-piece suit, an ancient demon lord who was literally sealed inside said amulet until I accidentally set him free.He says we’re bound. Separation means both of us die slowly and painfully.Soul-consumption optional but very much on the table if I’m stupid enough to fall for him. Which, newsflash, I am not. I’m not.Shut up.So now I’m living with an unfortunately hot CEO from hell, dodging assassination attempts disguised as corporate mergers, banishing spirits that show up at my desk like unpaid interns, and pretending we’re a power couple for the cameras while he smirks like he knows exactly how much I want to strangle him. Or kiss him. Or both.Brain, we are not doing this.I didn’t sign up for boardroom battles, multiversal rifts, or the terrifying realization that the arrogant demon who ruined my life might be the only one who truly sees me.But here I am. Still complaining, still fighting, still falling, against every shred of common sense, hopelessly, stupidly, irrevocably in love.Because when the universe marries you to the devil, it doesn’t ask for consent.It just hands you the ring.And damn it, I’m keeping it.

“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 .

He is an undead who is devoid of all humanity, he is the one and only supreme overlord, he is a man who has severe mysophobia.

There are many people who try to act cool in front of him, whatever soldier king, assassin, system user, transmigrator, reincarnator, the strong returning, the strong coming down from the mountain, person coming back from the immortal world, reincarnation of the devil king, immortal emperor possessing someone’s body, and so on, all of them do not know what will happen next

- Description from Novelupdates

In the God Domain, Cultivators were far and few between, but each of them wielded power that would make them known as gods.

How did they come to have such power? They comprehended the laws between heaven and earth and became those very laws.

But something occurred, a youth that hadn’t gained the acknowledgment of the heavens to become a cultivator chance upon Qi. Determined to reverse the bad hand faith had dealt him he started researching it and came to a shocking conclusion. The very laws that the heavens prevented him from comprehending were swirling around in this strange energy!

The youth thought to himself that if he could somehow control it, then he could defy the heavens and become a cultivator. Without any hesitation he began researching more and found out that the only way to control this newfound energy was to absorb it within his body.

After many years of preparations, he did exactly that.

However, he promptly died from the finger size strand he absorbed.

Ten years after his death a cultivator found his research journal and decided to further study this fascinating idea.

Skip forward to an unknown period in the future and a baby was born into a powerful royal family as the second prince. Upon his birth this child had the laws of heaven and earth swirling around him. This immediately sent the royal court into a stir as they thought the heavens themselves had blessed the Emperor’s second son.

But as that was happening, the baby that had just been born saw the midwife use a spell to turn Qi into water to clean him.

Upon seeing this, the baby’s eyes widen into saucers as a voice screamed hysterically in his head, “W-WHO THE FUCK STOLE MY IDEA?!”