Solflare: The Painter's Secret - Chapter 137: The One Who Returned, The One Who Didn’t

The apocalypse has not yet begun, but the system has arrived early.

Then Chen Mo’s style of daily life suddenly changed.

You can get rewards for eating and petting the dog, and communicating harmoniously with beautiful women is regarded as a battle with the ninth-level corpse king!

[It was detected that the host was so brave that he fought the ninth-level zombie king until he lost all strength. Since the target level was too high, the host could still get points as a reward even though he had not completed the kill by overstepping the level of the enemy. The host is hereby rewarded with 5,000 survival points and an A-level gift pack. 】

Chen Mo, who had just finished the battle with his schoolmate, couldn’t help but have a strange look on his face when he looked at the translucent floating window in front of him and the harmless schoolgirl beside him.

[It was detected that the host had tamed a fifth-level mutated corpse dog. Because the target level was too high, the host jumped over the level to tame the alien beast, which is unparalleled in charm. We hereby reward the host with 2,000 survival points, a B-level gift pack, and +50 charm! 】

Chen Mo, who had subdued a wolf dog with snacks, listened to the prompts in his ears and felt quite fucked.

Chen Mo lives a normal life, but in the eyes of the system, his life is full of monsters and ghosts.

This resulted in Chen Mo being able to trigger various rewards with every move he made. When the end of the world came, Chen Mo’s rewards would be maxed out, and his combat power was incredible!

- Description from novelbuddy

After picking up a phone on the streets, Feng Yuchen was sent to the world of High School of the Dead. He, along with 100 people, have to travel through various worlds, fight and solve quests in order to survive.

Whoever dies in that world, would be teleported back to the real world without memories of what happened before and die in an accident one year later.

- Description from Novelupdates

Ash Burn was just an ordinary gamer—an orphan scraping by in the real world—until he accomplished the impossible: beating the hardest VR game ever created, Apocalypse Online. But instead of the promised riches, he’s thrown into another world—one eerily familiar.It doesn’t take long for Ash to realize where he is: the chaotic, doomed universe of Heaven’s Favorite: Wrath of Gods, a novel he once read. Worse, he’s not the protagonist or even a supporting character.He’s just an extra.Armed with fragmented knowledge of the future, an unyielding will to survive, and the secrets of the Runes—mysterious power coveted by gods and demons alike—Ash must outmaneuver a reckless hero, power-hungry angels, and an inevitable war that threatens to consume everything.But as he treads the fine line between altering fate and unleashing chaos, he begins to realize something chilling: the endgame may not be as simple as he thought.In a world where survival hinges on power and cunning, can an ordinary extra change the fate of an entire world, or will he become just another casualty of destiny?Was he ever just an extra to begin with?Note: The image on the cover is not mine.

“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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