King of succubus - Chapter 412 I’m Anidas, the seven deadly sins’ ruler.

[Warning: This story contains extreme violence, philosophical depth, psychological breakdowns, self-improvement, self-realization, and themes of maturity.]“Even Gods need character development.”That was the belief Pratham lived by—struggling, always pushing forward. Until the day he died, starving in a world too cruel to care.But death was only the beginning.He transmigrates and awakens in a multiverse as Leon. In this multiverse, the greatest threat to humanity isn’t demons or beasts, but Entities. In response, civilizations across each universe forged a single hope: the Entity Hunters Organization, training warriors to stand against the impossible.He had no magic. Just his will, his fists—and a little sister he swore to protect at all costs.Enrolling in the Entity Hunters High School, Leon finds comrades, purpose, and war. He fights beside them across different planets and universes, grows with them, laughs with them—then loses them all.Leon rises not as a hero, but something else.

Four years ago, after a night of drunkenness, she had a relationship with a stranger and fled in panic upon waking up. Four years later, she returns with a soft, cute little bun by her side.“Bad uncle, you're not allowed to bully my mommy!”The man looked at the little bun, who was not even tall enough to reach his waist, and gave a charming smile. “Shouldn't you ask your mommy why you look exactly like me?”

Su Yun never imagined that he was the only human in the Tianmen Town where he had lived for more than ten years. He also never expected that outside Tianmen Town, within a radius of a hundred miles, there was a famous no-man’s-land.

Walking along the edge of a cliff. Walking near a deep abyss in the darkness of night, one must be vigilant and cautious, as if walking on thin ice.

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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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