Sharing Dreams with My Bestie's Cousin - Chapter 154: Gather full of disappointment

Two-way crush, tough guy attack, chicken suffer [You read that right! doge
The company is particularly down-to-earth this year, giving each person a live chicken that year.
Du Xiao looked at the hen whose neck was too fat in other people’s hands, and then looked at the skinny pheasant in his own hand: “…”
Chairman: “Don’t carry your wings, it will make him uncomfortable, so he should hold it in his arms.”
Du Xiao: “…”
Chairman: “Remember to bring it when you visit relatives and friends, don’t bore him at home, and treat him well.”
Du Xiao: “…”
Chairman: “Go home, happy Spring Festival!”
Du Xiao: “…Why didn’t I see the young master today? I haven’t said goodbye to him yet.”
Chairman: “Cough cough… I don’t know, I probably ran away from home.”
Du Xiao: “…”
Du Xiao: Hormone burst decathlon, taciturn, loyal dog bodyguard attack
Zhou Zhan: I am addicted to life and can’t take care of myself
Sweet sweet!

Content tags: sweet text, special liking, near water towers, ghosts and monsters
Search keywords: Protagonist: Du Xiao, Zhou Zhan ┃ Supporting role: ┃ Others: Zodiac

- Description from novelbuddy

Journey through the combined world of the Special Forces series and become the acknowledged bad soldier of the Iron Fist?

Don’t panic! The “Strongest Individual Soldier System” is here to help. Every time you upgrade a level, not only will your body be strengthened, but you can also acquire super skills. At the beginning, you will activate the S-level shooting skills, which will amaze the audience and overwhelm everyone! Thus, a vanguard that made the heads of state tremble was born…

He Chenguang: “Did you practice martial arts from the womb?”

High school team: “He is the scariest individual soldier I have ever seen, bar none!”

Lei Zhan: “It’s unlucky. In his hands, I’m like a three-year-old child. I can’t beat it! I can’t beat it!”

He Zhijun: “Xiao Lin, the future of Langya is in your hands, I will retire early!”

- Description from novelbuddy

BLURB> He was reborn by mistake. Raised with purpose. Loved by a god. Worshipped by monsters. And the galaxy doesn’t stand a fucking chance.Irvine’s soul took one wrong turn through the wheel of karma and woke up in a body grown by an intergalactic hivemind goddess with boundary issues and galaxy-sized ambition. Now he’s the golden child of a psychic swarm that feeds on control and burns whole worlds for affection.With Crystal at the helm, warriors like Kimchi, relic-weapons like Kiya, and a council of psionic horrors eager to call him king, Irvine must choose what kind of god he wants to be.Because when a hivemind learns to love......it doesn’t know when to stop.The universe will kneel—or get devoured trying.SYNOPSISIrvine didn’t ask to be reincarnated, but the cosmos had other plans. And it didn’t hand him a cheat code or a clean slate—just one random boon, selected by an uncaring divine roulette wheel.Good karma? Bad karma? Balanced as all fuck.Now he's reborn in the body of a psionically tuned alien hybrid, raised from psychic infancy by Crystal, the hivemind queen of a race so advanced they’ve abandoned individuality for shared omniscience. All except her baby boy.Irvine is the singularity inside the swarm, the first soul allowed to think, dream, and desire independently. Trained by warriors like Kimchi, advised by bio-symbiotes like Kiya, loved ferociously by hive sisters like Diane, and shadowed by powers ancient and unnamed, Irvine is both weapon and wielder, saint and sacrifice.But empires don’t run on hugs and handjobs. As Crystal expands her dominion—across star systems and sentient nebulae—Irvine must lead the charge through blood, fire, and psionic flame.His soul is still human. His body? Engineered for extinction. His heart? Not entirely his anymore.

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.”