I Inherited Trillions, Now What? - Chapter 157: Preparations

Pian Pian had once been the biggest bigshot in the whole game, but had disappeared from the Jianghu after being framed.

Soon after, she bought over an account online from the xianyu app, and got ready to raise up this old player’s account. But then she realised that the former user’s online relationship had also been a real-life relationship – with the former user having aborted her scum husband’s baby. Her own female disciple had used her to climb up, and then repeatedly killed the former user to the point that she couldn’t take it anymore and sold her account – it had really been excessively cliche. Pian Pian felt that her plan to abuse the cheating scum husband back, was somewhat refreshing.

Former User’s Husband: “She’s not like you – she’s very innocent. If you have anything to say, say it to me instead!”

Pian Pian: “There’s no need, happy divorce!”

Former User’s Husband: “Ai, why’re you forcing yourself to act strong.”

Pian Pian: “I’m not forcing myself, this is completely real strength. After all, I’m the game’s strongest woman[4].”

Former Disciple: “Hubbie, did you hear her? She said that she’s Boss Han’s woman! Let’s help her spread this happy news around!”

Pian Pian: “Wait, I think you read that wrong!”

Later on, she who had dealt with the gossip surrounding her and Boss Han, had actually met the real deal.

“Pian Pian, I heard that you wanted to become my woman?”

“…You think that’s possible?”

“Of course.”

Under the gaze of thousands, she received a message from the game system.

‘Yi Chuan Han Xing wants to do a pair action with you: forcibly kiss. Do you accept? [Yes] [No].”

- Description from Novelupdates

“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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