A Twisted Love Affair - Chapter 11: Together at Night_1

Tragedy struck in form of his father's death, leaving their poor but happy family in shambles.A few years after, when their life was showed signs of coming back on track, another tragedy struck, Ryan lost his mother and younger sister to wildfire.Devastated, Ryan lost the will to live and ten years later, at the age of 28, died in a car accident.At the last moment, he was happy because he was finally reuniting with his family and reunite he did, but just not in the way he thought.He opened his eyes and realized he had traveled back 10 years in time, to the day when the fires broke out and took his mother and sister away.This was his chance to save them and change the course of his life. Goddess of luck also seemed to be smiling upon him because he got a system.Armed with ten years of memories and the fantastical system, he will rewrite his and his family's destiny.... but he did not expect that he would be playing a much bigger role.===Additional Tags: Smut | Illicit | Pervert | Okyadon | Milfs | Wonderful Story | Unveiling Mysteries | Complicated World | Secret Organisations | Superpower | More might be added if needed |

Nanzhi only thought she had traveled into a novel about raising a child. Relying on her many years of “Wilderness Survival” watching experience, she hunts rabbits up the mountain for grilling every day, gropes for fish in the river to make soup, and diligently raises the child. Just when she thought her life was finally looking up and she could have her “second spring”, the “husband” who was rumored to have died hundreds of times suddenly appeared. Wait a second!She seems to have ended up in a novel where the male lead is the main character!Nanzhi? Isn't that the cannon fodder and deposed wife?PS: Not a web novel about farming, the female lead doesn't have a golden finger space system. Just turned eighteen and got into university, not a novel about a powerful female protagonist.

“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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Rainer, an amateur arcanist and college student, sought to create a new spell far surpassing the magic of the few he inherited from his grandfather. Yet the interference of an unknown event during the casting of his spell led him to be thrown through space and time.