Unfathomable Senior - Chapter 91

Shi Qian’s stepmother set her up and forced her to marry a vegetative man. There were three good things about him. He was rich, handsome… and unable to wake up! Fu Sinian, who had been in a coma for more than three years, woke up and found that he suddenly had a wife. His petite wife was fair, beautiful and had long legs.“If you don’t love me, I don’t need you!” Fu Sinian said and coldly threw out the divorce papers.Not long after, the famous Shi Qian was caught in a photograph in the bigshot, Fu Sinian’s luxurious car. Fu Sinian publicly clarified this and said, “Miss Shi and I are acquainted.”Netizens: “Are you guys only acquaintances?

They’re both being driven around in the same car! We’re waiting for you to slap us in the face with your words, Young Master Fu! Nine million fans are watching and waiting!” Not long after, Shi Qian, who was popular in the circle, was once again photographed entering the hotel at the same time as Fu Sinian and only came out after three days. Fu Sinian clarified again, “Miss Shi and I are not in that kind of relationship. We’re not dating.”Netizens: “Mr. Fu must have failed in his pursuit!

If there was a girl Young Master Fu can’t handle in this world, it must be their goddess, Shi Qian!”Thirty million fans continued to eat popcorn and watch the drama! Later, Shi Qian, who has two hundred million fans, had morning sickness while at the Best Actress Award Ceremony! Fu Sinian walked onto the stage slowly and hugged Shi Qian’s waist and said, “Thank you for everyone’s concern. Mrs. Fu is pregnant with our second child!”All two hundred million fans were confused. The beautiful Shi Qian was pregnant with her second child? They were watching the drama unfold all the way! When did they fail to keep up?

“Let me go Henry,” I said coldly. “I am not yours, not anymore.”Henry scoffed. “You will always be mine. I was your first mate.”“And yet you rejected me. I don’t need you anymore, I have-”“Who do you have, Nyssa? Him?” He laughed humorlessly. “You don’t even know who he is.”Rowan growled, a low warning sound. “Shut the fuck up!”“Why?” Henry shot back. “Tell her what you’re hiding, Rowan, let’s see if she still loves you after.”*********************Nyssa was once the beloved of the pack—the Beta’s daughter, mated to the Alpha.But once her parents died, and she was unable to shift, her life began to crumble until she was finally rejected by her mate, Henry.It was hard enough that he left her for her best friend, but as the Beta’s daughter, she was forced to remain with him until an attack leaves their pack vulnerable and they have to seek help for the lycans.What was meant to be a diplomatic trip turned into chaos when Nyssa realizes she is mated to Rowan—the lycan king.Lycans and wolves don’t get along, and there is a lot of history between the three of them.To Nyssa, the angel she doesn’t know is better than the devil she knows,But what happens when that angel is just another devil in disguise?After all, Rowan is hiding some dark secrets of his own, the kind that threatens their already fragile bond.Would she be able to handle the pressure? Or will she go back to Henry who may have never gotten over her in the first place?

“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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