The Civil Servant's Job is to Raise The Furries! - Chapter 234 - 233: Three Male Co-Hosts

Sky is not born of Shen Huan, millennium is like night.

This is a rebirth who wants to release himself, and has an interesting life story after getting a less serious system.

- Description from Uukanshu

The world of an NPC born inside an online game was destroyed. Reborn in the real world, he gains a second chance. However, the monsters followed and destroyed he died again. Julian believed everything was over, only to have regressed to the day the game launched. Julian returned to Avalon not as an NPC, but a Player.Avalon's Fall was a VR Online Game created by the goddess.A game to help humans fight back against the six devils. She granted the Players a chance to evolve and enhance themselves in the real world. Because of his fragmented memories, Julian discarded his past. He then focuses on survival and happiness instead of saving the world. There were only two months before the first devil started his attack on the world.Thanks to the perk of his SSS-Rank Class Shadow Mancer and saving his ex-girlfriend, a powerful Sword Master, Julian changes the future. He took a different path, allowing him to surpass anything he ever imagined.Given the power to summon an army of undead in the form of shadow warriors. He overcomes the demons of his past. Supported by his party, they struggle to survive in the collapsing world, desperate to survive.The Devils eventually discovered his true potential and focused their gaze upon Julian. A title given to one existence, he who would rule over all darkness. The Heir of Shadows. The 13th Divine.Erebus.

The Bulwark Duke’s residence had fallen. On the day of the duke’s son’s wedding, all men in the family were imprisoned. In just three days, the patriarch and duke died. What was originally a joyful occasion became a depressing funeral.Shen Yijia had transmigrated as the unfortunate bride. By the time her husband was sent back home to her, he was crippled and heavily injured. Everyone said that this fallen family would never recover. Shen Yijia possessed a spirit liquid that helped her bring her husband back from the brink of death. When Song Jingchen woke up, he advised her to marry someone else instead. Shen Yijia stared at his handsome face and shook her head. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep you.”On the way back to their hometown, they encountered bandits and even suicide warriors who tried to assassinate them at all costs. Shen Yijia patted her chest and vowed to her beautiful husband, saying, “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.” However, nosy people kept nagging at her, saying that a wife should be knowledgeable, reasonable, and virtuous. Was she supposed to help her husband pick out a concubine too? Shen Yijia was annoyed. As a modern woman, she couldn’t possibly get her husband a concubine! Her husband belonged to her alone!For the sake of earning money, she hunted in the mountains, battled scum, and took in disciples. Eventually, Shen Yijia’s life became smooth sailing.Many years later, they returned to the capital. Everyone assumed that Song Jingchen disliked having such a violent wife, and would soon divorce her to remarry. The young noblewomen rubbed their hands together in glee, waiting for Shen Yijia to leave so they could take her place. But as they waited and waited, they saw the Song Jingchen gently hold Shen Yijia’s hands right after the latter had beaten someone up. Song Jingchen asked worriedly, “Does it hurt?” [1v1 sweet love. A doting yet violent female lead vs a jealous two-faced male lead]

“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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