Bone Painting Coroner - Chapter 13 – Time of Death?

[BL WARNING: EXTREMELY MATURE CONTENT]“I know you like it when I dig deep inside you.”Maxim had been living a secret double life as a masked dancer in a brothel within the red-light district, driven by the need to earn a high income.One night, he noticed a golden-haired man staring at him with intense interest.Seizing the opportunity, Maxim seduced the stranger and lured him into his bed for a one-night stand.However, what began as a brief moment of pleasure quickly turned into a nightmare when Maxim discovered the true identity of his mysterious admirer.The revelation set off a relentless pursuit, with Maxim finding himself hunted wherever he went. Especially after knowing the golden-haired admirer was the son of the man who killed his parents.The revelation set off a relentless pursuit, as Maxim found himself being hunted wherever he went; he couldn't escape.Would Maxim surrender himself or fight for his rightful place?

When you read this online novel on the Internet, congratulations, you have been selected as an experiencer of the world of “horror online literature” and entered the world of horror novels. I sincerely hope…you…can come back alive!

——————

“Terrorist Web Articles” task release group: 161866011

After joining the group, please ask the private group owner to inquire about the coupons and plots, exchange and strengthen them!

The list of participants in the world of each terrorist mission will be announced in the group announcement, the dead will be automatically kicked out of the group, and newcomers will join.

This is a game of death, this is a slaughterhouse of slaughter, here, you are welcome to come and join, let us experience the thrill of struggling online and the excitement of intrigue!

[Special reminder]: Don’t trust anyone after joining the group, because they all hope that the next person to die will be you!

- Description from novelbuddy

Scream out.Awake and pour out the grudge left in you onto me.Then, I shall save you.

The protracted ’witch hunting’ had faded into silence with the end of the Seven Years’ War, and the mysteries of the East Coast had begun to conceal themselves, yet gunpowder was on a rapid rise. Mo Qishang, who should have been utterly confounded, stood at the crossroads of destiny in the name of Arthur. He stared in astonishment at the charging knights, the wizards atop the high towers, and the bizarre wilderness. He felt the sharpness of the longsword and the recoil of the firearm, both clear and unfamiliar. At last, he excitedly shook his robe and, with a smile on his face, said— “Do not believe what I say, for to believe is to exist!”