Married to his secret crush - Chapter 483: Neighbor

In this period where countless supporting lead actors always attempt to counterattack, turn over a new leaf or simply refuse to take up the role, his purpose of existing is to fill the role of a good supporting male lead and uphold his duty to the best of his ability. To add the needed lustre to storylines and this world. Only, it’s a pity that someone who is not afraid of god-like enemies will be afraid of pig-like teammates.

Bitterly, he realises that for some unfathomable reason, he is being bothered time and again by a bastard who refuses to follow the script… In order to walk the path of a good supporting male lead, he engages in a battle of wits and courage with that person. Loving each other and killing each other, one ultimately cannot escape fate’s teasing– why is it so difficult wanting to be a responsible and diligent supporting male lead?! QAQ

- Description from novelupdates

During this chaotic era, the darkness engulfs all.
In a struggle of fire and death, despair shrouds the continent.
The line between fantasy and reality becomes blurred as a speckle of starlight penetrates the night sky.
But is it enough to reverse the downfall and fate? To regain the lost glory?

Rhode is a famed player in the game “Dragon Soul Continent”. There, he leads the strongest player guild in the game, the Starlight Guild. Just as he defeats the last BOSS, the Void Dragon, he unexpectedly awoke in a world identical to the game.

As the Summoner Swordsman returns to the continent, waves will be cast in the rivers of fate. Can he face the coming chaos and avert the destruction of the continent?

“Hah..Hah..”

In the midst of what seemed like a battlefield, a young boy with white hair knelt on the ground, struggling to catch shallow breaths. A short sword pierced his heart, his arms and legs were broken, making him unable to stop the crimson blood from coloring the ground.

“That's what you get for betrayal,” a red-headed teenage boy sneered as he stood before him.

“A pathetic person like you could never be my brother,” added a purple-haired girl, her voice seething with anger, as she stood alongside the redhead.

With great effort, the young boy shifted his gaze forward. He could see many familiar faces in front of him—his so-called family, his so-called friends but his gaze remained fixed on her.

“Wh..y, A.nna,” he uttered with immense difficulty and sorrow in his voice, his vision blurring as he locked eyes with the blonde-haired girl, who regarded him with emotionless eyes.

“I did that so I could save you,” he said, his voice gradually growing louder.

“I DID THAT SO YOU COULD LIVE!” he shouted, making everyone present flinch in fear.

“I never asked you to do this” the blonde-haired girl replied, her words crushing the very soul of the boy.

“A...nn.a,”

the young boy whispered one last time, a small tear slipping down from his eye as he breathed his final breath.

================================

Neil survived eight grueling years in a post-apocalyptic world only to die and be reincarnated in the body of Eden Morton, a character from a game he

used to play as a teenager, by an unknown entity for unknown reasons.

Eden's life was a pitiable one, plagued by the constant manipulation and betrayal of those around him – whether it was the princess, the famed hero, or even his very own family. Eden died without ever experiencing genuine love. Now, as Neil took over, he was determined to embark on a new journey, seeking the one thing he and Eden never had : a life worth living.

“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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