Kiss Goodnight, Mr.Ji - Chapter 1737

“If Gao ○○ and Zhen Jingwen both confessed to you at the same time, who would you choose? Heheheh, it’s so hard to choose! Can I just have both?!”

“What do I do if my GF likes BL? Shit! What’re girls reading all that stuff for? They should get married and have kids while they’re still young.”

“How would you guys rate my sister? Let me see…She looks pretty good. Old rules, 10 if she’s up to f*ck, 0 if she’s not, hahaha.”

“Disgusting homosexuals spreading Aids, perverted fujoshis are cancer of society!”

Not only did college student Xia Chuan have stage II advanced straight male cancer, he even had severe homophobia, much less being able to stand the existence of fujoshis. But then, he suddenly met with the greatest crisis of his life—

After waking up, he actually grew an organ only a girl would have between his perineum!

Was this not a dream?

Impossible…

Xia Chuan couldn’t stop his brain from recalling an ancient post on Baidu:

What if you turned into a girl one day?

—First, show your brothers a good time!

De! Fi! Nite! Ly! Not!!!! Xia Chuan pulled up his pants with gritted teeth and swore to defend his virginity to the death.

- Description from Novelupdates

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.”

After being torn from the only life she knew, 16-year-old Margo is forced into a new home with strangers who call themselves her parents. Haunted by memories of her past and consumed by feelings of isolation, she struggles to adapt to her unfamiliar surroundings. School offers little relief—until she meets Lucien, a mysterious boy who appears just when she needs a friend the most.Gabriel is everything Margo needs: kind, attentive, and always ready to whisk her away from her troubles. Each night, he invites her to secret places—an abandoned playground, a fog-choked garden, a crumbling train station at the edge of town—each more unsettling than the last. Yet with every chilling rendezvous, Margo feels more alive... more seen.But something isn’t right. Gabriel never comes to school during the day. Her adoptive parents never see him. And when they catch her talking to thin air, their concern deepens into fear. They say Gabriel isn't real—that he’s a figment of her imagination. Margo wants to believe them, but Gabriel feels real. More real than anything else in her life.As the nights grow colder and more twisted, Gabriel’s true nature begins to surface. Shadows move where they shouldn’t. Time warps in his presence. And the places they visit seem to echo with whispers from another world. Margo is forced to ask herself: Who—or what—is Gabriel? Why does he only want her? And what will happen on the final night he asks her to come with him?As the line between reality and delusion begins to crumble, Margo must make an impossible choice: stay in a world where she feels loved, or return to one that barely feels real.But one thing is certain—some friendships never let go.