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... as I did, I'd argue with them a lot. I didn't believe I could sleep in my mental state. I remember walking through the empty sitting room, straight to my room, I remember brushing my teeth and changing into comfortable clothes. I laid on my bed and that's all I remember.

It was almost 2pm when I woke up, and I was clearly having a hangover, 'that's gotta be my first hangover right?' I asked myself.

Swinging my legs over the egde of the bed, I sat down rubbing my eyes, my dick was ...

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As an author who transmigrated into her own abusive novel, Shi Luo didn’t feel any pressure from it. Besides, it’s not like she transmigrated into the female protagonist who got abused physically and mentally anyway. And so she decided there was nothing she had to do, all she had to do was just to watch it unfold in front of her eyes.

But this development seems a bit wrong! Wasn’t this supposed to be an abusive novel? How unlucky!

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After dying on a battlefield, she was reborn as orphan Lu Xiaocha. She was in a peaceful world with delicious food she had never seen before. There were no endless missions or killings, and everything was lovely in her eyes.

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Also, she had a superb father, a mother who was a peerless beauty, five older brothers, and an uncle. But… Why did their family name sound so familiar?

Then, she recalled reading a novel before she died. It seems that her family… were all villains!

Great! She had fallen into a villains’ nest! But… this nest was so nice. Lu Xiaocha would defend them even if they were bad! Heh! Someone wanted everything the Lu family had? They’d have to ask her fist first!

A random man came over and said, “Chacha, come with me.”

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Rule number one: “As a scholarship student, you should steer clear of the rich kids.”Olive raised an eyebrow. “Why? Because of bullying?” she asked, playing dumb, though her mind flashed back to the scene she had witnessed earlier.“Exactly! You should avoid the school heir especially. Bullying's like a sport around here for guys like him. If you offend the wrong person, it won't end well. Trust me, if you want a peaceful year, just stay out of their way.”_______In a world where social hierarchy and family legacy reign supreme, Olivia Williams, a brilliant and determined student, disguises herself as a boy to attend the prestigious Belmont High School. She's won a coveted mathematics scholarship, but her triumph comes with a price: keeping her true identity hidden amidst the treacherous landscape of boarding school life.Enter George Lucas, the charismatic and arrogant heir to Belmont's legacy, who finds himself inexplicably drawn to “Olivia,” the mysterious new student. As they engage in a fiery hate-to-love relationship, Olivia must navigate the complexities of her own feelings, the danger of discovery, and the class differences that threaten to tear them apart.As they delve deeper into their whirlwind romance, Olivia and George must confront the dark secrets of their own identities, the weight of family expectations, and the transformative power of love. But with great passion comes great risk: their relationship could upend George's family's reputation and legacy, forcing them to choose between love and loyalty.

The Omnistore SystemChapter 492: Equally embarrassing regalia (R-18)
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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.

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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