PREVIEW

... ’s not mention the problematic SSS-level difficulty of this movie first. Doing the artificial respiration while wearing a swimsuit alone was already a great difficulty to deal with.


Both of them had apparently forgotten about what they were going to wear on site tomorrow.


Yan Han would be dressed as usual because he wasn’t going to swim, but Zhan Chen was going to be choking on water. How the hell would he get choked by water if he wasn’t playing in the water? Therefore, it w ...

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I am a Snow Owl-Leopard Griffin and I do not have much to complain about my life, I have a great yet odd mother, live on floating fairytale islands filled with other flying creatures, magic and mysteries, but how did I end up in the arms of this rascal of a demon?!

When chased away from my homeland I have to grow strong fast or perish on the way before I can even learn how to fly properly, but thankfully destiny traces my way into the world of cultivating as I grow obsessed with the power pursuing such knowledge gives me.

Especially because I have people to save… and those to take revenge upon.

*Thinks cool phare while staring at the horizon, the wind brushing his clothes and hair, all serene and determination oozing off from his cool demeanor… except for the glimmering eyed demon staring at his side with yet another gift for his cold beauty.*

…I don’t have time for anything else, so take your gifts away you rogue demon!

~~~~

ML: Cold beauty, I bought you flowers!

MC: Uhum…*doesn’t take any*

ML: I bought us matching outfits lovely beauty!

MC: Uhum… *doesn’t change clothes”

ML: My king, I brought you to our chambers.

MC:Uhu- Wait, what? Daring rascal, scram!

~~~~Warning~~~~

Mature content including gore, explicit smut, swearing, relationship between men.

Enjoy~~ ~,^

PS. This is the second book of the series Reincarneted into a … but it can be read as a StandAlone.

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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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