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... making sure that the others were just in a coma, and it didn't matter, he brought a basin of water in the kitchen and entered the room.

The fat little girl with small arms and calves followed Xia Man and kept whispering, "Mom, I'm hungry ..."

Xia Man turned his head and threw a chicken leg directly from the space to the fat chick.

The fat girl caught it all at once, her eyes glowing, "Mom, mother will be fine!"

"I'm optimistic about these people, otherwise I promise y ...

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The pain from the gunshot was nothing compared to the pain she felt in her heart as she realized she would be losing not only her life but also her unborn baby. With eyes that beheld great resentment, she looked at the man, the father of the child and her cousin's arms in arms.“Why?” There was nothing else to say. Eyes conveyed everything that was needed to be said,She didn't deserve such an end.He knew this.But the man had an impassive look. As if years of their time spent together meant nothing to him. Years of her showing him with affection meant nothing to him.Just one world“Fate”...As she opened her eyes, she found herself the very night this tragedy started. The day she got married to David.The face was the same, the reception was the same, and the room was the same. But the soul was not the naive inexperienced stay-at-home wife. But a betrayed woman who burnt in the flame of vengeance.

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After losing his life in... an unfortunate incident, Ezra is rejected from the summoning by the First Light. He is instead banished from existence. There he meets a being, that claims to have been dreaming since before existence.He agrees to serve this Eldritch entity if he can let him live again. Ezra's soul is then stuck into the body of a young priest, Priest Izikel Vau-Leotard.In this new world, where gods exist and they bless their believers with Divine energy to perform miracles, Izikel is forced to navigate his new life, while serving a Chaos god.In his new life, Izikel vow to live the life of a hero, but what can he do when it seems like Fate itself scoffed at his words.This is Izikel's reality, one he barely has a grasp of, but one he is definitely going to conquer at all cost.CONTENT WARNING:This novel contains themes of suicide, cannibalism, and extreme brutality, along with other dark and potentially distressing topics. Reader discretion is advised..

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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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