Ji Wushuang didn’t know.
She only felt something clogging her heart.
Suffocating.
She stood up and said,
"Brigade Commander, if there’s nothing else, I’ll take my leave."
She saluted and turned to go.
She didn’t spare Li Mu another glance.
She knew it wasn’t his fault.
This was the rule.
But this rule left her feeling alienated and powerless.
It was as if she was no longer the invincible "Ghost," the soldier who could overcome anything with sheer strength.
The brigade welcomed a new combat instructor.
Transferred from a sister unit.
His name was Wang Meng, also a First-Class Sergeant Major and the military’s hand-to-hand combat champion.
His muscles were like slabs of iron.
On his first day, he challenged Ji Wushuang to a spar.
"I’ve long heard of the ‘Ghost’s’ reputation," Wang Meng said with a grin on the training mat.
"Let me see it for myself today."
The outcome was never in doubt.
Three minutes.
Ji Wushuang ended the match with a flawless shoulder throw, followed by an armbar.
Wang Meng lay on the mat, conceding defeat with genuine respect.
"I’m getting old," he panted, forcing a bitter smile.
"The future belongs to you young ones now."
Ji Wushuang helped him up.
On Wang Meng’s first rest day, the veterans invited him out for drinks.
Ji Wushuang was included—her first unofficial gathering.
After a few rounds, Wang Meng grew talkative.
He reminisced about his youth.
How he fought his way to the top in the military’s grand competition.
How he single-handedly subdued an enemy squad during a border skirmish.
His eyes gleamed.
The fading glow of a hero’s past.
But soon, the light dimmed.
"Useless now," he muttered, downing another glass, his eyes red.
"Nobody cares about this stuff anymore."
"Now it’s all about computers, drones, charts I can’t even read."
"These skills of mine? In a few years, I’ll be discharged."
"Then what? Work as a security guard? A bodyguard?"
"I’m over forty. All I know is fighting. My own son has to teach me how to turn on a computer."
His voice carried a quiet despair.
Many of the veterans fell silent.
In Wang Meng, they saw their own futures.
A lifetime honing lethal skills in the military.
But in peacetime, in the world outside, what use were those skills?
They were heroes.
Yet also relics, soon to be left behind by the times.
Ji Wushuang didn’t drink.
She listened in silence.
Studying Wang Meng’s face, weathered by alcohol and time.
She saw herself in ten, twenty years.
She would age.
Her speed would slow.
Her strength would fade.
What then?
Would she, too, sit at a table drowning in nostalgia for faded glory?
Then return to a society that had long since moved on, carrying nothing but injuries and confusion?
A chill crept up from her core.
Colder than a night spent submerged in icy water.
The next day, Ji Wushuang submitted an application for advanced training.
She didn’t know if it was the right choice.
But it was the only path she could see.
While awaiting approval, she was assigned one final mission.
A multinational counterterrorism operation.
The sensitive theater required coordination with allied forces.
Ji Wushuang’s "Ghost" team was tasked with infiltration, reconnaissance, and target confirmation—their specialty.
For over two weeks, they lurked in the sweltering, insect-infested jungle.
Like true ghosts, they mapped every defense of the enemy’s hideout.
Plotted multiple optimal assault routes.
Pinpointed the exact location of the target’s leader.
Everything was ready. Only the order to strike remained.
The night of the operation was moonless, the wind howling.
Ji Wushuang and her team had crept within 500 meters of the camp.
Through her night vision scope, she could see the relaxed faces of sentries smoking in their towers.
All waited for the signal to unleash the killing blow.
But the order that crackled through her earpiece was cold, absolute.
"Ghost team, stand down. Primary assault role rescinded."
"Why?" Ji Wushuang hissed.
"Joint Command’s directive," the voice on the channel replied tonelessly.
"Allied forces will lead the assault. You are reassigned to flank support. Weapons tight unless ordered."
Ji Wushuang understood instantly.
This was politics.
The division of credit. The calculus of diplomacy.
They—the scouts who’d risked their lives in the dark—were now bargaining chips on some negotiation table.
Minutes later, the so-called "allies" attacked.
Gunfire erupted, chaotic and undisciplined.
They didn’t even follow the intelligence provided by Ji Wushuang to infiltrate from the weakest point—instead, they chose a full-frontal assault.
The enemy camp erupted into chaos instantly.
The target, shielded by their personal guards, fled through a secret waterway at the rear of the camp, vanishing without a trace.
The entire operation turned into a complete farce.
The "Ghost" squad didn’t fire a single shot in the end.
They could only watch helplessly as the enemy effortlessly exploited the very escape route they had meticulously marked as critical.
Covered in mud and humiliation, they retreated to their temporary base.
The mission had failed.
Back at the barracks, Ji Wushuang was physically unharmed.
But her heart felt heavier and more exhausted than after any injury.
She requested leave and locked herself in her dorm.
Gao Feng visited her a few times.
He said nothing, simply sitting with her for long stretches.
This old soldier, who had spent a lifetime weathering the trials of military life, understood this kind of powerlessness all too well.
This wasn’t a defeat on the battlefield—it was a loss to forces beyond it.
That kind of frustration could shatter even the toughest warrior’s resolve.
A few days later, Gao Feng summoned her to his office.
"Wushuang."
He looked at her, his expression grave.
"I’ve temporarily held back your application for further studies."
Ji Wushuang froze.
"Why?"
"Because it might not be the right choice for you."
Gao Feng continued, "You are a blade forged for battle. Locking you away in a study would only let you rust."
"But—"
Gao Feng cut her off.
"Wushuang, read this first, then decide. If you still insist on further studies, I’ll respect your choice."
From his drawer, he pulled out a plain black envelope made of an unusual material—cold and metallic to the touch.
"What is this?" Ji Wushuang asked.
"An invitation."
] [Lone Wolf, No Male Gaze] [Protagonist is pursued early on; extreme protagonist-stans, stay away!] The "Carnival Paradise" descends and slowly devours the real world in the form of a game. By chance, Zhu Yan awakens the talent [Roleplay], becoming one of the first beta players. He thought he could develop safely, but after clearing the first instance, he is branded by humanity as the chief culprit behind the game's spread—a traitorous villain. A villain? Who would ever... become one! He'll be the villain! From then on, Zhu Yan is not only a player but also a lackey for the Carnival Paradise. Between the straight path and the crooked path, he chooses the con. With his left hand, he dons the villain's mantle, staging scenes within instances, infuriating players who decry him as a despicable traitor, all while the game happily promotes him. With his right hand, he joins the non-human organization "Fangcun Mountain," which opposes the Carnival Paradise, transforming into a mysterious player who slaughters game bosses, earning cheers of "Long live the expert!" from fellow players. Gradually, Zhu Yan rises to become an S-rank human player in Fangcun Mountain's archives, while also being the Carnival Paradise's certified top game Boss. But when the final war erupts and both major factions place their hopes in him— Players tag his various aliases: "Experts, this offensive depends on you." The Carnival Paradise's supreme Boss throws an arm around his neck: "Bro, you're the iron, I'm the steel; you can't let me down again!"
m back to his original world. In the end, he realized he had overthought things. [Hey, why is Shen Manni, the female lead, acting strange? Shouldn't she be fawning over the male lead at this point?] [Zhou Qiaoqiao, are you sick? Weren't you supposed to break off your engagement today?] [Damn it! An Youyi, please do your job as an undercover agent and sell my information to the protagonist, you idiot!] ... At this moment, Xu Mo himself didn't know that these female leads had already heard his inner thoughts. Then they decided not to play by the rules. Xu Mo: Please respect my profession as the big villain!
e, Immortal Body, Transmigration, System, Progression Fantasy, Academy Setting, Third-Person Perspective. Alternate Title: Transmigrating into a High Martial World and Reading Live Comments. Bad news: I transmigrated. This is a terrifying high-martial world, and my original, pathetically weak body fell into a coma and never woke up. Good news: I got a Popularity Points system upon arrival. I can see live comments and even create an unkillable alternate identity. Starting out, the alternate identity has all stats at 1. The system tells me that to grow stronger, I must participate in the plot, gain popularity points to allocate stats and grow stronger, and ultimately awaken my original body. And so, carrying my original body on my back, I officially entered Huaqing Academy, where the story's protagonist resides. From that moment on, Chen Guan kicked the original plot to pieces. Live Comments: [Doesn't anyone find this mysterious coffin guy creepy? He can summon indescribable grey misty hands.] [Is this guy a hero or a villain? What kind of onion became a spirit?] [By the way, does anyone know who's in the coffin? Shouldn't the debt for saving his life be repaid by now?] [According to unofficial histories, the person in the coffin was Chen Guan's first love. Their love was once passionate and earth-shattering, but they were separated by life and death due to worldly circumstances. What a star-crossed pair.] ... Years later, the world knew of a demon god born from a coffin, shrouded in grey mist, impossible to gaze upon directly. His foremost divine emissary often wielded a scythe, reaping lives like the god of death. As war approached, facing former friends and a boundless sea of enemies, Chen Guan merely raised his scythe. "Would you like to dance as well?"
grated, and just when he finally managed to get into an elite academy, he discovered that he actually had a system, and the way to earn rewards was extremely ridiculous. So for the sake of rewards, he had no choice but to start acting ridiculous as well. Su Cheng: "It's nothing but system quests after all." But later, what confused Su Cheng was that while he was already quite ridiculous, he never expected those serious characters to gradually become ridiculous too. And the way they looked at him became increasingly strange... (This synopsis doesn't do it justice, please read the full story)
