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... a white silk dress, checked the surroundings and asked Angele to enter the house.

Angele followed Vivian to the living room. He could hear the fire burning in the fireplace. The flames were dancing and brought warmth to the room.

He took off the black coat and hung it on the hanger.

He loosened the collar and spoke in a low voice, "Did you notice that?"

Vivian nodded and poured some flower tea into the cups on the table. The orange liquid in the cups was nice and warm.

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DEATH COULDN’T KILL HIM—IT JUST GAVE HIM A NEW LIFE TO DESTROY.Reo Carter was a name that made even the hardest killers shudder. A perfect hitman—no hesitation, no mercy. Until his own crew turned on him, leaving him bleeding out in a pile of bodies that used to be his enemies.But fate wasn’t done with him.He wakes up in a world of nobility, magic, and honor duels—trapped in the body of Leonhardt Caulem, the weakest, most useless son of Duke Caulem. A spoiled brat with no skill, no spine, and a reputation so pathetic that even servants look down on him.They think he’s weak? They have no idea who they just brought back.- Swords and magic? He spent his last life dodging bullets—this is child’s play.- Dueling etiquette? A knife in the ribs is the only honor that matters.- A noble’s life of luxury? He’s had enough backstabbing for one lifetime, thanks.He was once a ghost in the underworld—a man who didn’t exist. Now, in a world where strength is everything, he’s about to remind them what true fear looks like.The hitman is back. And this time, he’s aiming for something more.#NobleByDayKillerByNature #TheyBroughtBackTheWrongMan #FromHitmanToDuke #SayYourLastWords

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Aiden, who spent his days staring at a screen and playing the same game, 'Leclentia', had finally succumbed to his unhealthy lifestyle and died...

However, he found himself reincarnated in a world full of mythical creatures and magic, with his consciousness inhabiting the body of a frail young boy who was supposed to attend the mage academy.

“Wait... I've reincarnated into Leclentia!”

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“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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In a future timeline, the earth was visited by a species known as the Slarkovs.
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Humans and Slarkovs made a deal with each other in return for the Slarkovs living on earth.
The Slarkovs traded their technology and knowledge for a new home.
They were similar to humans except for some of them who had slight differences so fitting into the society wasn't a problem.
Over the years Slarkovs and humans began to mate with one another and reproduce offsprings.
This in turn created a new species known as the mixed-blood.
Centuries later mixedbloods could tap into their bloodline and perform unimaginable feats.

Gustav born into an age where bloodline determines everything, struggles to fit with a useless bloodline.
His bloodline only grants him the ability to change his hair color, destroying his hopes and dreams for a great future.
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