There's definitely something wrong with this murder mystery game - Chapter 881 - 729: Special Elf Bloodline_3

When Naruto was young, he could see several big faces on Hokage Rock directly when he opened his eyes every morning. The window of Uchiha Xinxuan’s house will first see the Police Department Building, as for Hokage Rock, only a silhouette can be seen.

I dare not think about it, but it should also try to climb to a higher position to see the scenery.

PS: In terms of the original plot and settings, all the comics are used (excluding Boren Biography, Itachi True Biography, TV and theatrical versions), mainly because there is only one set of comics at hand.

- Description from novelbuddy

Chatting in the dormitory at night, roommates wonder how much pain Aunt Flow brings. Mr. Perfect He Zhi Zhou has never bothered joining in on these petty talks for amusement. That is, until he became a woman and laid in bed with a white-cast complexion……

Chatting in the female dormitory at night, roommates sighed over the current pairings in the school of engineering, Shen Xi was a little curious that the problem with these topics is that there was no way to test them. Until she became an engineering male and a bar of soap dropped in front of her……

Introduction in one sentence: About how a top-scoring perfect male with no desire in the opposite gender and an amusing female lead were set up like lightning setting the ground on fire spreading out of control—leading to a sweet and rippling life……

Life is so long, don’t be so arrogant. Some things are bound to deviate.

Tang Qiu was a substitute bride–forced to take her half-sister’s place and marry the young master of the Jiang family, a deformed cripple with less than 6 months left to live.

“Who would have thought that even a sickly whelp like Jiang Shaocheng would find himself a bride?”

“I hear that he’s practically on his deathbed and he’s only marrying the Fengs’ daughter to improve his lifespan.”

Tang Qiu ignored the whispers around her and focused on her husband-to-be, who coughed violently in his wheelchair. At the altar, after they had said their vows, she lifted her veil and knelt in front of Jiang Shaocheng, pressing a hesitant kiss to his lips.

The marriage contract was signed. No matter his physical deformities, he was now her husband.

She wasn’t afraid of the scars that marked his face, nor was she repulsed by him being confined to a wheelchair. Every morning, she made him breakfast, attended to his needs, and thought of little else beyond her duties as a wife.

“Young Master Jiang is a cripple who can’t get it up,” her best friend argued. “When he dies, you’ll still be untouched. You should set your sights higher.”

“A sickly invalid like Jiang Shaocheng can’t give you happiness,” her ex-boyfriend insisted. “I’ll wait for you.”

But Young Master Jiang only scoffed. “I have plenty of time left to be with her.”

Later in their marriage, Jiang Shaocheng wanted to enjoy his little wife in all ways–the press of her lips against his, the brush of skin on skin; the way a husband and wife were supposed to. But Tang Qiu refused him, blushing. “No, we can’t. The doctor says you can’t exert yourself.”

Jiang Shaocheng’s desire was surging through him, a heat in his core that demanded to be satiated. He cursed, I should have gotten rid of that doctor and the wheelchair long ago.

But he yearned to make love to his little wife, and so he revealed his true identity. In the blink of an eye, the deformed cripple transformed into a powerful businessman–tall, dark, and handsome. He quieted Tang Qiu’s protests, his body positioned over hers, his arms caging her as she lay on the bed. His voice was low when he asked, “What about now?”

Teotihuacan, a sacred place of worship. In the vast world, feel the quaint and desolate ancient city, and the eagle cries and the leopard roars are chasing away.

Go back to Central America 700 years ago, when the Aztecs were very prosperous.

The priests stood at the top of the pyramid of the sun. One hundred thousand warriors covered the entire wilderness. fluttering. The high priest held his hands high, and the obsidian dagger gleamed in the sun, drawing a cruel and gorgeous arc, bringing the cycle of life back to the earth. Tens of thousands of cheers sounded, with the reverence of the ignorant era.

This was a gift dedicated to the sun god, in return for the sacrifice of the gods in creating the world.

Solemn sacrifices from sunrise to sunset, all-night revelry ignited the whole night, and so on for a hundred years, until white-skinned terrors came from the east coast, bringing blood, thunder, monsters, and disease.

Doomsday, as legend has it, or the end of the Fifth Era?

How can a traveler, in this fierce era, inherit the legacy of two thousand years of ancient Mesoamerican civilization, resist the invasion of Western colonizers with an immortal soul, and lead the ancient Aztec civilization to a new path ~~

- Description from novelbuddy