Reincarnated and Regressed Villain - Make heroines beg for forgiveness - Chapter 2 - - A broken saintess

It's hard to win when your competition is small, cute, and calls your (future) wife their mommy.Lara spent six years doing odd jobs to sustain her five-year-old kids. She fled from her birth town after noticing some of her children's weird habits.They growl when they fight, and their teeth can cut the skin like it's nothing. They prefer meat when it's cooked raw. They howl at the moon when they don't want to sleep.However, they're her children.She's been on the run ever since to protect them. She knows nothing about the stranger she met that day and whom she spent the night with. Even the details are blurry in her mind, except for that weird, compelling attraction that brought them together.When she scores an interview at the most prestigious company in Norwich City, she thinks her life will turn for the better. Until she meets him again.Nathaniel Woods, Alpha Nate, is the CEO of LY Corp. A fated night of six years ago, he found his true mate. Unfortunately, that woman fled after their passionate night, leaving no traces for him to follow.A twist of fate makes them meet again, and he's settled on not letting her escape.But this time, she's not alone. There are two pups with her, growling and fighting, firmly set on not letting him get to their mommy.WARNINGS:Possessive male lead and even more possessive little buns.Slight misunderstandings, not too annoying (hopefully). The male lead is doting, but life is difficult with two jealous pups preventing him from wooing his (future) wife.The story follows other characters along with the leads.Smut content (signaled at the beginning with a warning).Werewolves are a little different from usual, so please bear with my version of the trope ;)If you can't stand too much cuteness, do not open this book.If you're allergic to dog fur, stay further away. Characters here are wolves, but some of them grow ears and tail when they're excited (or claws when they feel threatened).This book is dedicated to all the parents single-handedly raising their cubs

Suo Fei, a veteran NEET has spent three days and three nights strategizing his way through the highly explicit H danmei game masterpiece “Yalance”. Furthermore, he was able to capture all nine little shous from the nine great races. However, as the final, 10P feast was approaching, he unexpectedly transmigrated. He transmigrated into the real country of Yalance…

In the 21st century, she was the outstanding world renowned darling of the field of archeology. Then, she transmigrated and became Jinjiang city’s Ji Family’ Third Miss, a small malnourished girl who starved to death. She was unfavored by her father and treated like air by the rest. Therefore, just to earn money and feed herself she had to return to her old profession – being a forensic anthropologist.

“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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