Love Variety Show: The despised me exploded in popularity - Chapter 97 - (Ask for First Subscription) Not Writing Love Letters is Your Lie

The master Xiuxian failed to cross the calamity, the soul came to the earth, and became a waste fiance of the school flower. The school fiancee wants to force him to remarry, the hypocrite and uncle who is greedy for money fights for his family property, one indifferent killer kills his life … Grandpa’s disease must be cured … The proud family’s family must learn martial arts with him … These problems are being cultivated Master Lin Mu is not a problem before him!

- Description from 69shu

He died in his first life, as an ordinary human inside an ordinary planet.

In his second life, he swore to live a life of supreme power, and so he did. He reached the apex and exterminated his enemies to oblivion.

Dying, he was reincarnated in a world which could use Chakra. He became The Overlord Of Every Being, Ruler Of 6 Universe.

Unfortunately, he died. Using a mysterious method, he was reincarnated once again inside the world of Tales of Demons and Gods.

She has come a long way.

Orphaned, born a weakling, and being the infamous good-for-nothing of Azure Dragon Country. Gu Ruoyun was the shame of the proud Gu household. Falsely accused of a crime she did not commit, she was betrayed by her family and beaten to death by her own grandfather. But life took a fateful twist on that very day — she was revived.

Newly awakened, she is now the Master of an ancient treasure that resides within her body. Precious cultivation pills, treasures beyond her wildest imagination and spiritual beasts, all within her grasp… She is the apple of the eye of all under the heavens, including that of a mysterious, handsome man.

Now she only has one goal — to conquer the world.

“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.]

……………………………………………………………

Dear readers! Without any ads, maybe you will prefer .