The Female Leads Truly Loves You - Chapter 64: Sis, I think you’re scared.

Su Ming was reborn as a white wolf.

He thought he would live a normal wolf life until he started to realize that the world was changing.

The snow leopards’ teethes started to grow longer and sharper, the brown bears could now turn their arms into as hard as stone, the golden eagles could summon lightning and even the goats could now emit poisonous gas.

Just as Su Ming had no idea what to do next, a notification appeared.

[Known Evolution Paths]

1. Moon Herd Silver-clawed Wolf

2. Frost Bosch Wolf

3. Ancient Battle Mark Wolf

Entering the world of the Scripted Murder Game isn't scary.Playing the role of the murderer is still doable.Playing the role of the victim is fine.Playing the role of a girl is manageable.Even if you have to deal with dark, strange monsters, and accidentally get tainted by them, it's no big deal.Shuo looked at the script in his hand and felt that he could still play the part!…But after adding a bunch of teammates with mental issues,he felt that he couldn't go on acting.This script is a bit off too!Shuo, “Can we not have a murderer, a victim, a girl, or psychos, and just have a normal person?”…——————【Non-traditional Scripted Murder Mystery Game】【Attention: The plot will gradually shift from normal to bizarre, focusing on tasks. Each Scripted Murder Game script is original, not fan-made. Non-original scripts will be indicated.】【Ensemble cast, with undercovers, role-playing, disguises, no female lead.】

war, blood, and betrayal carved him into something else. A legend. A killer. A mercenary whose name struck fear into both criminals and so-called heroes alike.But now, the world had changed. Lines blurred between right and wrong, between justice and vengeance. Should he step into the light, wear the mask of a hero, and fight for a cause greater than himself? Or should he embrace the darkness that had always been his home, a place where morality was just another illusion?“Don’t box me in with your shallow ideas of good and evil,” he muttered, his voice calm but edged with danger. “I do what I want, when I want.”The air was thick with tension as he moved like a shadow through the dimly lit room. The writer had no time to react—one moment, he was scribbling nonsense about legends and myths; the next, a cold barrel pressed against the back of his head.The figure smirked beneath his mask, eyes gleaming with something between amusement and menace.“You wanna write fiction?” he whispered. “Then let me show you how real legends are made.”A single gunshot shattered the silence.As the writer’s body slumped over the desk, the man holstered his weapon, stepping into the faint glow of a flickering neon light.“It’s that simple,” he said, his voice unwavering. “I’m Deathstroke.”