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... copy of the result in front of Lu Zhou.

“It has already been negotiated that Fuxing Mining Company will recover all debts at a price of 500 million credits. This includes ours and those in the hands of individual investors. Then we only need to cooperate with the Pan-Asian Cooperation by paying a fine of 100 million credits, and you can purchase the entire enterprise at a symbolic price of 1 credit.

“As for the future, whether you intend to directly merge Fuxing Mining into Star Sky ...

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Wei Ruo, a highly skilled doctor, was time traveled as a female supporting role in a novel. She was left neglected in the countryside for ten years and returned back when she was thirteen years old.

Seeing that she only knew how to grow flowers, grass and vegetables all day long, everyone thought that she was a peasant woman.

As the female supporting role, Wei Ruo did not want to fall in love with the male lead, nor did she want to compete with the female lead. All she was thinking about was to make money, make money, and make money!

When the fake daughter was still worried that Wei Ruo’s return would affect her status, Wei Ruo had quietly saved up a private fund.

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If you want money, you have money, if you want food, you have food, The shop was opened one after another.

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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?”

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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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