J_a_zzy
527 in week
“7.9 billion people, 3.8 billion of them are women. I saw millions of them in my lifetime, talked with thousands, known hundreds.” Yelled the man, while raising his hand toward the sky.
“And...not a single...pussy for me…..god…why.” And burst out in tears.
[5 minutes Before ]
The person yelling at the god Erwin Tynan is a successful corporate slave, because of his well-paid job at a multinational company. He just had a dinner meeting with his slave colleagues and was waiting for his ride.
Standing under the lamppost while enjoying the winter night, he said, "What a beautiful night," and pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. And continued with a sigh, “sigh, it will become more beautiful if I have someone as beautiful as this night in my arms. "
Saying this, he searched for a lighter in his pocket but couldn't find it. Suddenly, a hooded person approached Erwin while he was searching his pockets and pulled out a lighter from his jacket.
Seeing the man approaching him suddenly Erwin was surprised and, seeing the lighter in the person's hand, he said, “thanks man”
And leaned forward to light his cigarette. Lighting his cigarette, he tries to get a glimpse of a person's face. After seeing the face, he was astonished. Because under the hood. It was a beautiful girl. Her skin was white as snow, her hair black as night, and her crystal red eyes and blood-soaked lips were challenging the night's beauty. Her expression was colder than ice and they enhanced her beauty more.
But there was something wrong here because Erwin's astonished face was now grim. And had an on his stomach from a gun in a woman’s hand.
“Why?” he painfully said, falling over.
J_a_zzy
5113 in week
"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.]
J_a_zzy
38 in week
Cassian Ven Dyke, the bastard son of a powerful ducal family, grew up in the slums of Veldora under the care of his father figure, sword master Russel. When Russel passed away, Cassian was left with only a silver necklace as his inheritance. After putting it on, Cassian was attacked by three psychotic thugs who tortured him in an attempt to steal the necklace. Refusing to give in, Cassian was ultimately stabbed through the heart with the very same necklace. Instead of dying, he mysteriously vanished as the necklace lodged itself in his heart. Just before disappearing, he heard an eerie message echo in his mind:[True mana detected. Origin: Human...][Human detected. Compatibility with system: Confirmed.]
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