Legendary Superstar - Chapter 6: His New Life

“Be better”

Peter was cursed by those words, the very last words of his dying mother.

Cursed to be better. To be above the small squabbles... And so, the last five years of his childhood, he spent as a target of bullying, both in school and in his adoptive, step-family.

But it all changed, when a portal to another world appeared in the middle of his shed!

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Wang Zhong arrived in another world and got caught up in this world’s world war. His cheat ability was an overhead view similar to a real-time strategy game, which allowed him to see the field of vision of his troops! He immediately began micromanaging:“Move the machine gun position five centimeters to the left! Place the anti-tank gun in the woods on the right!”Three years passed like this.Wang Zhong looked at the marshal’s baton in his hand, then at the double-headed eagle flag behind the emperor’s envoy.“There’s an old saying where I come from, ‘Kings and princes, can they be born?’ Do you know this, Envoy?”

The kind-hearted boy Suzuki was supposed to use his cheat ability to be “unconditionally loved by the local race” and enjoy a peaceful slow life in another world… or so he thought.

However, due to a small mistake by a goddess, he was actually reincarnated into a bloody, end-of-the-century world where humans were being destroyed by demons, with slaughter and torture everywhere.

Suzuki was in a desperate situation!! …But for some reason, the demons who saw him seemed to be acting a little strange – what could this mean?

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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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