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... e his soul float to the top of the tent, glancing down at the two people in the tent. He saw all that he had done and watched Gu Mang's blood flow continuously from the wounds in his chest during the soul capture, but the young man who had been dissected by the soul had been telling him that it was okay, okay .

Many years ago, Brother Gu told him with a smile in front of the bonfire, hoping that Kyushu would be leveled up, everyone would be fair, and he would go to the soup and break his ...

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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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What?!A perfect free-use novel doesn't exist?!.........So what? Just read this one.~~Hehe~~You're gonna love this, seriously.This is what cooking of three months is like.No degenerate out there can ever come close to my degeneration which helped me create this fantasy book.Milf?I have it.Young?I have it.Boob sizes?Is that even a question to ask.Ass size?Hmmm~~~ My favorite.Whatever you wish for, I got it.So come and follow the degenerate life of JakeMalcolm, the lucky son of a gun who was finally transmigrated to the world of his desire, using everything in his sight, his family the beginning and the end would be...Well, no idea who the end would be.So stay tuned to find out.~~First and foremost, this is a work of fiction. Any mention of a real person or religion is purely coincidental and all the work of my sick imagination.Read it, then decide if you want to stick to it. This is more likely a work of a whim so there might be holes that I might have to fill.Haha. Holes to fill.Anyway, this is more like an idea that progresses as the story does so if you have any fantasies that you'd like to implement, I'm open to them.Just don't overdo so the story doesn't spin too out of control.~~The cover's not mine and if the owner wants me to take it down, I'll do so without trouble.Bonus chapters of any sort would be decided upon once the novel goes premium, but before that, there is no schedule update. Just know that there'll be an update every day. Just not of how many chapters.Last but not least, read with an open mind and make sure you don't have any opinion to give until you're well into the story, whether good or bad.That's it. Enjoy~~