My Wife, The Ice Queen President - Chapter 246 - 0 Xiao Baibai_1

There was a Senior Brother and a Junior Sister. One of them was transmigrated to this world and had cheats while the other was the reincarnation of a Great Emperor.

To save the masses, Zhong Nianyao sacrifices herself to the heavens, thinking she would vanish into thin air. Surprisingly, when she opens her eyes again, she finds herself as the youngest daughter of the Zhong family in the imperial capital. In her previous life, as the national advisor of the Li Country, she spent her days in deep contemplation and eventually sacrificed herself for the people. Given a chance to relive her life, she decides to live freely and with ease. Zhong Nianyao, known in the capital as the infamous useless heiress who excels only in spending money, has been famously infatuated with the eldest young master of the Li family, Li Jingming. She even jumped into a river just on his saying. Later, to everyone's astonishment, Zhong Nianyao changed; she stopped chasing after Li Jingming and started setting up a stall on the overpass. People then said she must have gone mad. However, as time goes by—A real estate tycoon holds a black card, pleading for her to tell his fortune.A famous movie star clings desperately to her, crying for help.Even a renowned old artist brings his works to her, asking for feng shui advice.Zhong Nianyao didn't expect that just returning to her old profession would turn her into a master. She had always intended to keep a low profile! As she ponders this mystery, a man with a devilishly handsome face suddenly hugs her from behind, his deep voice filled with a seductive charm, 'My lady, when shall we start planning for a child?' Zhong Nianyao glances at the man and retorts with a single word— 'Scram—'(Sickly possessive lord VS Cunning heiress, pure love, those who like it, dive in!!)

“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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Aron was a child of the unorthodox beast monger race that thrived in what many considered hell itself, Limbo. A place full of chaos, death and misery where only the strong, cunning and cruel survived.

Follow Aron’s vicious journey as he faces the most dreadful of beasts, the most talented of humans, and many other races for their power and territory, all for the sake of pursuing knowledge and true understanding of Limbo and the secrets it holds.

An existence that grows to be feared, respected and even worshipped by some wherever he goes.

This is the bloody tale of Aron Limbo.

“Why would I do something that doesn’t benefit me? Be selfish and be cruel because life will never take pity on you. If you can’t accept this truth then you and I walk very different paths.”