Out-of-character (OOC) setting reworked. If you dislike this, please do not read. This is my personal take on the Shadow, a powerful being. Read this fanfiction without thinking. Also, the Shadow is not the male lead; he is a higher-dimensional god.

"We are those who lurk in the shadows of the Shadow Court, hunting down the shadows."

"Twilight has fallen; the time for reckoning is approaching."

"I am the shadow, and the one who lurks in the shadows to hunt the shadows is the master of the Shadow Garden."

Who is holding the piece?

Is this a dream...

Falin opened his eyes. This was like a dream, but not a dream. He could not feel the collision or the temperature. This place was very mysterious.

A firefly, a sofa, a fireplace, a small room, a red carpet, a spirit, a door...

Farin left the sofa. He had never been to this place before. Where was this? Occasionally, there was a clicking sound outside the door, not like footsteps, but more like pieces falling on a chessboard.

Falin looked at the decoration of the room. It was small and dark, but warm. The stove contributed a flickering light to the room. Not far from the sofa was a dark red desk and an old wooden chair. There was a small window, and the moonlight was faintly shining through the window.

At some point, the sound of chess pieces dropping outside stopped, and Farin nervously glanced at the door. After a moment, there was indeed no sound outside. Farin shifted his gaze elsewhere. The fireflies seemed to have frozen, suspended in the air, and the occasional flicker of fire in the stove had also stopped... It was as if time had stood still...

Only Farin was able to move. Farin pushed open the door and saw a large hall outside. In the center of the hall was a long table... There were many mist-like figures sitting beside the table.

He looked around and saw many doors on the wall. But he gradually realized something was wrong. The wall couldn't hold so many doors, yet there were so many doors. Blood was flowing from under some of the doors, and some were broken. Falin saw a sofa inside, and a woman was lying on the sofa. Her throat was cut, and she was lying there quietly. Behind each door was the same...

The gods received an oracle: when Heimdall blows the Gjallarhorn, they will all fall into the same world, foreshadowing the coming of Twilight of the Gods. Upon learning of this oracle, Odin, the father of the Norse gods, attempted to defy fate and ensure his eternal immortality...

When Chen Xian woke up, he was surprised to find that his murder mystery game shop was covered with blood-red words that read, "Don't let them know you can see." Before he could react, all his employees turned into ghosts, and Chen Xian had already died dozens of times, dying and being resurrected each time in an endless loop!

Chen Xian: Barbie Q is bitten, can you guys bite a different one?

Because the author cheated in the game, tragedy struck... He was transported into the game to fight against enemies with wits and courage, while gradually growing stronger and becoming an indispensable partner to his teammates.

Our story begins with a young man who, after death, enters the underworld. Have you heard the many bizarre folk tales? Have you ever admired and yearned for the extraordinary talents these stories portray? This book tells the stories of those skilled in these arts, scattered among the people. They are proficient in divination, know how to exorcise ghosts and draw talismans, and possess the art of Qimen Dunjia. When their abilities are no longer recognized by the world, what choices do they make?

－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－

Welcome everyone to QQ group: 55543011 (Lao Cui’s group)

The exiled immortal Luo Chen is reborn in the city, awakening the chat group of the Ten Thousand Worlds, and the sand sculpture group members are online for support. The melancholy demon delivers takeout, the bloody knife repairs the nuclear power plant, and the chaos medicine cauldron refines all things.

The information insect tide swallows the sky?

404 ticket warning?

He stabilizes the demon with the soul-soothing pill in one hand and kills the devil with the sword of extinction in the other. Using the cauldron as a furnace, he refines the catastrophes of the heavens; using the group as a help, he rekindles the fire of the immortal way!

See how the downtrodden immortal stirs up the wind and clouds, and refines the sky with the cauldron!

Whenever you tear the chest of the melee profession with weapons, you will find that the spell-casting chanting of spells is a fucking thing. However, when the master doesn't need to sing spells, and he can release all the spells and spells in an instant, what will happen? At the same time, if this master is still cruel, cunning, evil in mind, dark and grotesque. So... I think you have understood what I want to write.

What makes a martial artist? The exertion of strength. What makes a chivalrous hero? The exertion of spirit and will. ...A kick decides victory or defeat, a punch determines life or death. "I practice the Netherworld Technique, I've learned my lesson!"