PREVIEW

... house layout looks familiar, Elder Xun. It is similar to Rikulab’s place.”


Cillin used the name “Rikulab” instead of “Shi Huajing” because it brought back good memories of the past and avoided the bad ones.


The old doctor shot his own house a glance and looked less gloomy, but he didn’t respond to Cillin’s comment.


Not taking offense with Jiu Xun’s silence, Cillin continued, “His was so much messier than yours though. I can still remember it as clear as yester ...

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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.”

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“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?”

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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?”

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