Bone Painting Coroner - Chapter 740 - The Dried Well Case

In a world of brooding heroes and dark justice, one mercenary stands out—not for his skill, but for his relentless sarcasm and love for chaos. A self-proclaimed anti-hero, he finds himself working with the Titans, much to their frustration. While undeniably skilled in combat and nearly impossible to kill, his real talent lies in driving his teammates insane with endless jokes, fourth-wall breaks, and questionable decision-making. Whether it’s swapping Robin’s gadgets with toy versions, turning serious battles into slapstick comedy, or giving monologues mid-fight, he thrives on pushing everyone’s patience. But beneath the humor, there’s a sharp mind, a tragic past, and a surprising willingness to do what others can’t. While the Titans may roll their eyes at him, they also know that when things get truly dire, he’s the wildcard they need. Love him or hate him—he’s here to stay, and he’s having way too much fun.

Dear tired Reader, it is an honor that you have chosen this book amidst the heavy, gloomy aisles of the Library.It is with some regret, however, that I must inform you this book is ill.Your fingers should be able to feel the raised Proliferation of tissues on the surface of the Skin of the book,The words written in days of old are like Parasites taking root in the pages, longing for someone to observe their writhing,To sense, to decipher, and to touch the very essence of this sick story.If you insist on borrowing this book, please be sure to regularly check your own physical condition.Keep in mind.

[REVISION][I am currently revising and rewriting the entire storyline of this novel.As a result, it will be temporarily unavailable for reading.Thank you for your patience and understanding]

You’d think seeing the future would give me a head start on surviving the apocalypse. I had it all planned—until everything I knew shattered when my husband sacrificed himself to save me and our son. Now it’s just me, my three-year-old son Leo, and my cursed gift of foresight that only seems to kick in when it’s nearly too late.I’m doing my best to keep us safe, to find food, to make some kind of plan—“Mommy?”I glance down, trying to ignore the tug on my pant leg as I focus on our supplies. “Not now, Leo. Mommy’s thinking.”“Mommy!”I sigh and finally look down. My three-year-old is standing there, clutching… I blink. “Leo, where did you get a knife?”He shrugs, grinning like it’s the most natural thing in the world.My heart stutters. “No, really. Where did you find that?”I try not to laugh. I mean, he’s three. Maybe he just—found it somewhere? But the next day, it’s a water bottle. Then, a tiny flashlight, somehow with batteries still inside.I don’t even know what else; he’s pulling things out one by one with the pleased grin of a kid who’s just figured out his favorite game.Well, we may just survive this mess after all.Now, if only the universe could have spared me from him. I don’t even know his name, but I know his type: tall, broad, and annoyingly handsome, with an air of calm control that’s out of place in this chaos. Ex-military, if I had to guess, with a voice that’s just as infuriating as his smirk. The man has a habit of showing up at the worst—or best—possible times, with a gun at the ready and secrets buried as deep as those bright green eyes.I mean, he’s probably useful, but I’m trying to keep my eyes on the prize here: survival.For Leo and me.Because, foresight or no foresight, nothing is guaranteed in this new world—except the fact that people like him are trouble.