MTL - Freelance Artist - Chapter 176 Lin Zhaomu

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.】

A Speedster in a Fantasy World

After losing his job, Bai Liu became involved with an unstoppable horror live streaming game full of various monsters and players with killer intent.

Initially, everyone thought Bai Liu was just an ordinary person who strayed into the game.

Later, they realized it was this game that welcomed its god with victory and a laurel crown. It said to Bai Liu, “Welcome home.”

The year was 2026, and the world wasn't what it used to be. Ever since the Abyss Gates cracked open three years ago, spilling monsters and dungeons across the planet, life had turned into a chaotic mess. Cities were half-ruined, half-rebuilt, and people clung to whatever normalcy they could find. Hunters—those brave or crazy enough to fight the monsters—became the new heroes. Everyone else? Well, they just tried to survive.Fin wasn't a Hunter. He wasn't a hero either.He was just… Fin. A lanky 19-year-old with messy brown hair, a chipped front tooth from a dumb skateboard accident, and a power that everyone called useless. Absorption. Sounds cool, right? Like he could suck up energy or steal someone's strength. Nope. All it did was let him “feel” things he touched a little more than normal. He could tell you the exact texture of a brick wall or how warm a coffee mug was—big whoop. No fireballs, no super strength, no flashy moves. Just a glorified touchy-feely trick.“Fin, you gonna eat that sandwich or just stare at it like it's gonna confess its life story?” Meg's voice snapped him out of his thoughts.He blinked and looked across the rickety table at his best friend. Meg was short, loud, and had a wild mop of dyed purple hair that she swore made her look “intimidating.” It didn't.