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Next chapter: Chapter 189
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... hite Wolf Generals, and none of those monsters were afraid of death.

However, the titans faced these powerful monsters head-on without retreating, and each of the men killed twenty of the dragon’s underlings. The tide of war could be said to be on their side if only the underlings were considered, but the Dragon of Destruction had to also be taken into account.

“Kruuwaaaaah!”

The army froze stiff from fear whenever the Dragon of Destruction roared loudly, and it seemed th ...

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Handsome to the point of inciting the wrath of the heavens and anger of humans, Xu Zhi was a winner in life who was stabbed to death by his sister.

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This is a story of a waste material and a concubine who turned into a genius, and a story about the hardship of a black-bellied prince in pursuit of his wife.

“Have you heard, Qing Yunge is crazy!”

“I heard, don’t mess with her if you mess with the King of Hell.”

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The Divine Phoenix Nirvana, the return of the Divine Phoenix, the Chaos Spirit Tool, the sword that shook the world, and from then on became the master of the nine clans.

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The Nine Clan Wars, the Four Kingdoms turmoil, the Mysterious Beast riots, the situation is surging.

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Leng Yanqing, arrogant and arrogant: “I want these nine clans.”

Someone smiled with thin lips and raised his chin lightly: “Then you, I want it”

【Wonderful little theater】

One day, in the Orc Realm, in the area of ​​the Flame Mountains, the girl who was chased halfway across the continent finally couldn’t help but glared at the man behind her.

So, facing the raging fire and the eyes of countless fire-type profound beasts, she said gloomily, “Can you not follow me?

Turning a blind eye to her, the man’s folding fan closed with a snap, and looked at him with a warm smile: “That’s not good, you promised to be my daughter-in-law.”

“When did I agree?” She gritted her teeth, she was really a black-bellied, cunning and insidious villain.

“Qingqing, have you forgotten? In the past, at the banquet, I gave you a jade pendant, and you returned it with a sachet.” He said slowly, “You and I have exchanged tokens of love, and it’s long overdue to get engaged.”

“Fart, it’s you who fucked me!” she said angrily.

“Well, I’m jealous of you.” He was kind, and then raised his eyebrows and smiled, “That’s because I fell in love with you at first sight.”

“Why don’t you be more shameless?” She just felt like she was going to be pissed off.

“I’m all shameless… Madam let me kiss and you’ll know.” He smiled sweetly, “Are you kissing?”

“I kiss you uncle!” She jumped up, just wanting to punch this peerless face.

He actually pondered for a while, and then refused righteously: “No, you are my daughter-in-law, you can only kiss me.”

Qing Yunge sighed up to the sky, covered her face and wept, she really wished she had never known this black-bellied person.

【Special Note】

1. This article is about one person for the rest of your life

2. The heroine is not a virgin, not a novice, and not a good person.

3. Regularly update, do not abandon the pit, and jump boldly.

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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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