The Story of Blood and Roses - Chapter 117 Theatrics

Su Bai, who entered the horror game, obtained all-professional talents, which could light up the underworld professions.

Ghost teacher, ghost doctor, ghost psychologist, ghost painter, ghost massage therapist…

“Miss, please get dressed, I’m your teacher, don’t be shy.”

In the vampire castle, Su Bai said solemnly to a vampire girl.

“Beauty, please don’t worry, the doctor’s eyes don’t distinguish between men and women.”

In the Necronomicon Hospital, Su Bai, who was doing a gynecological examination to a glamorous female zombie, said solemnly.

“Madam, please respect my profession, I am a painter, I only sell my art, not my body…”

In the Devil’s Manor, Su Bai had some headaches. No matter what profession he chose, his charm value was full.

Even driving a taxi is molested by female ghosts.

Can you still play the game? …

- Description from novelbuddy

They whisper my name in fear. Justin Black. The guy who sits in the back of the class, always in black, always untouchable. The one everyone watches but no one dares to approach.They don’t know me. Not really.Because if they did, they’d stay the hell away.I don’t do friends. I don’t do relationships. I don’t do attachments.But then there’s her.June Matthews—cheer captain, golden girl, a walking distraction. She’s everything I hate… and yet, she’s in my way. Assigned to me. Forced into my space. Testing my patience.She thinks she can handle me.She’s dead wrong.Because I have a secret. A place where I go to release the darkness inside me. Where names don’t exist, where pleasure and pain are one and the same. A world where people fulfill their deepest, most twisted fantasies.June doesn’t belong in my world.But the longer she stays, the more I want to pull her under.And once I do… I’m not sure I’ll ever let her go.

Because I like to collect antiques, I was accidentally brought to a magical world by a crystal skull in my collection.

- Description from novelbuddy

Hello, everyone. My name is Shen JianGuo. I’m a night school teacher. I mainly teach the subjects of (Marxist) philosophy and ethics. I occasionally review new policies and measures for the students. I never see my colleagues and students during the day. The training institute classrooms are all abandoned schools, hospitals, or houses. The bus number is 444 and it always appears in front of my door at 12 midnight and disappears before 5am.

What? You say I met a ghost? Impossible. As a staunch scientific materialist, I don’t believe ghosts exist in this world.

But recently I’ve had an issue to raise. Can the training institute bring the class time up a little bit? Wouldn’t it be good to start around 8pm? Though I fear nothing on earth or in the heavens, I’m afraid of going bald.

- Description from Novelupdates