Dafeng’s Night Squad - Chapter 1814

A male university student, Yu Qingtan, had transmigrated. He became a reserve little girl at the Cultivation World’s Tianxiang Pavilion. Take a close look at himself? Visit the boudoir of girls from the same period? Share feelings with a bestie? Not a chance, business would start soon, and he was still thinking about these things? Did he want to become the laughingstock among the many transmigrators? Yu Qingtan, she panicked! What to do? Waiting Online , quite urgent!

There is an ugly beast that violates women in prison.

A treacherous beast that is feared and called a “Butcher”.

That’s me.

I was once a human but now I can’t even remember my own name.

I can’t speak, and I don’t understand a word they say.

It is in this deep loneliness that I am pouring my essence into the women everyday.

I pour my burning rage into them.

Over and over again, until they conceive.

From morning till night. Until the women’s souls withered.

To show them that I’m an excellent stallion and an obedient domestic animal.

But my soul has not perished yet.

I will break free from this prison soon. And when I do, it will be your last.

Every human who betrayed me, every demon who altered me, I will trample down like an ant.

And it won’t stop until I’m satisfied.

The dawn of the beast is near.

“I'll do it. I'll do anything you want”Raiden clicked his tongue in a disapproving tone then raised Hiro's head once more.“That's not what I want to hear, Hiro” He said. “I want to hear you say it with your lips. I want to hear you acknowledge what you will be to me and your status from this day henceforth.”He stared deep into Hiro's beautiful brown eyes as he spoke; “Say that from this very second, you belong to me. Your body, your soul, your mind, every part of you belongs to me. You will be my pet and remain by my side. You will do whatever I ask you to do. Tell me that I own you, Hiro.”Raiden's voice was frighteningly deep and Hiro felt shivers run down his spine. There was nothing he could see but Raiden's smokey grey eyes, his handsome face and that devilish smile that gave him goosebumps and made his heart tremble with fear.With tears running down his cheeks, he balled his fists and spoke softly; “I promise, Raiden, from this very second, I belong to you. Every part of me is yours. My body, my mind, my soul, everything is yours. I will be your pet. I will do anything you ask of me. I will give you everything that I am. You own me, Raiden.”Watanabe Hiro used to be very rich. As the last child of the Watanabe family, he was pampered and spoilt by everyone but he was a good kid. He was obedient and friendly. Nice and very caring. He never did anything to worry others. He also had a lot of friends. Some were with him because they genuinely liked him while others were with him because of his wealth. That is, until a calamity befell his family and everyone he considered a friend abandoned him.Hiro was forced to live a wretched life for 4 years until he met a former senior who was ready to save him but under one condition.Hiro had to become his for a year.

“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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