PREVIEW

... ming meteors exploded from the blue sky and disappeared.

Even on the way back, Su Ping's mind was still thinking about what had just happened.

On the Blue Star, there are no phoenixes as pet beasts, but Su Ping has never seen a phoenix in that form.

 Then he took out his mobile phone and started searching.

Fire phoenix, hundreds of birds paying homage to the phoenix…

Soon, search answers appeared one after another on the backstage of the Breeders Association: ...

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The Principality of Atall lies between two great powers: the Kingdom of Allion to the west, and the Holy Dytiann Alliance to the east. Leo Attiel, the second-born prince, was sent to Allion as little more than a hostage, where he studied and trained in the military arts under a frontier general. And now, the times have reached a turning point.

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She is the twenty-fourth century’s strongest immortal cultivator, but transferred into a world of magic where demons roamed rampant; a punching bag tyrannized and ostracized by her clan on one side while the scum of a man that is her fiancé humiliated, trampled her on the other side…

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Magic is amazing? Her Five Lightning’s Bombardment Talisman will turn you into ashes! Medication is very incredible? With one furnace of medicinal pills, useless can also become genius! A vigorous army of a million is very ferocious? With Scattering Beansprout Soldiers, all of you can slowly play!

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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.

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*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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