Quick Transmigration Cannon Fodder's Record of Counterattacks - Chapter 2868: And It Would Always Hurt

When low-level healer Elias Vale stumbles upon a cursed cocoon in a forgotten ruin, the last thing he expects is to hatch the reborn soul of the Demon Queen Revantra—in the form of a scared little girl.To save her from divine execution, she binds herself to him through an ancient soul pact, fusing their fates. Now, Elias is stuck raising the former destroyer of worlds—who can barely tie her shoes, but occasionally melts furniture when she pouts.What starts as reluctant guardianship soon spirals into something far more dangerous. As Rhea (her new alias) grows stronger, older, and far too attached, Elias must keep her identity hidden from zealous church inquisitors, ambitious heroes, and the remnants of her own loyal followers—some of whom want her dead... again.But the longer he protects her, the deeper the bond grows—and the harder it becomes to tell who’s really taming who.Because the world once burned beneath her wings……and this time, she’s not letting him go.

With the marriage of her prostitute mother to the Count, Aria’s status in society skyrocketed immediately. After leading a life of luxury, Aria unfairly meets death because of her sister Mielle’s schemes. And right before she dies, she sees an hourglass fall as if it were a fantasy. And just like that, she was miraculously brought back to the past.

“I want to become a very elegant person, just like my sister, Mielle.”

In order to face the villainess, she must become an even more wicked villainess. This was the new path Aria chose to take revenge on Mielle who murdered both her and her mother.

“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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The pain from the gunshot was nothing compared to the pain she felt in her heart as she realized she would be losing not only her life but also her unborn baby. With eyes that beheld great resentment, she looked at the man, the father of the child and her cousin's arms in arms.“Why?” There was nothing else to say. Eyes conveyed everything that was needed to be said,She didn't deserve such an end.He knew this.But the man had an impassive look. As if years of their time spent together meant nothing to him. Years of her showing him with affection meant nothing to him.Just one world“Fate”...As she opened her eyes, she found herself the very night this tragedy started. The day she got married to David.The face was the same, the reception was the same, and the room was the same. But the soul was not the naive inexperienced stay-at-home wife. But a betrayed woman who burnt in the flame of vengeance.