Parallel - Chapter 216: Mato Suzuki(1)

Give me some ideas or references for the future plot of the story!

>English is not my main language as you all will see

>Will try my best to make the story enjoyable and can not promise that everyone will be happy as let's be real not all can be pleased

>The early chapters will be a bit slow-paced for the continuity of the story

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Lin Qing He transmigrated into a novel and became one of its cannon fodders. The novel’s background is non-viable 1960s, a time of want to eat but nothing to eat and want to wear but nothing to wear. Although there is a lack of supplies and life was monotonous, this wasn’t what she was concerned about because she got a small personal interspatial space, which was stuffed with supplies, so temporarily there were no worries about her basic needs.What she’s worried about is that if she remembers correctly, her three so-called sons will become big villains in the future, and their upright and cold dad will end up with an undeniable end.Lin Qing He looked at the three future villain sons, the eldest who was only five years old, the second child was only three years old, and the third child was only one year old, and decided to give them half of a big white bun first…

Once again, Ye Zhen Zhen had lost her memories. When she opened her eyes once more, arranged in front of her were——

1. A Maternal Grandfather, the Murdered Victim

2. A Large Inheritance

3. A Deeply in Love Fiancé

4. An Overbearing Maternal Uncle and his Wife

5. A Docile Servant

6. The Aloof, Cold, Abstinent Doctor in Charge of the Case

7. A Seemingly Difficult Police Officer

Reincarnated as a detective, Ye Zhen Zhen stared dubiously at them all. Who was the murderer? Was it her? It…?

Only one was the real murderer, but there was far more than just one culprit.

- Description from Novelupdates

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!”