Mihua Big Stage, Starting as Kudo Shinichi

The author is able to write about such a difficult subject with a good look and quality.

The writing is smooth and the quality is acceptable. I suggest the author send the manuscript so that I can taste it first 😍

The appearance and DNA of the protagonist are all new. The classic rebuttal: Who is better than whom?

You play the role of Shinichi for me. It's completely OOC. How could the Kudo couple not recognize it?

I know the author wants to write a character who can break the fourth wall, but generally this kind of character does not interact with the audience so frequently. A few times is okay, but if the interactions are too many and too frequent, it won't feel that way.

The protagonists who have appeared so far are full of talents, each with their own merits Mizama Yue, Karasuma Shuryo, Martin Nagisa Original Villain, Rakuto Actor Pure Love, No CP, Renwai, Minotaur My sincere respect to the Origami Star

I can accept the appearance of a power system that goes beyond that, but it would be a bit too much for you to directly appear the ghosts in Demon Slayer 😒😒😒

1. The plot of Shinichi is too long and he is teasing Xiaolan like crazy. What should I do in the later stage? Is it really going to stop? Then persecuting Conan, wouldn't it mean that Ximen Qing pretends to be Wu Dalang and Pan Jinlian is a pure lover and persecutes Wu Dalang? 2. The role of points is also unclear. At present, it seems that the only role of points is the number of water words 3. Those clones stole the gold coins and there is no further story. What's so cool about this big deal? What is the meaning of paragraph? The purpose of hiding gold coins in toys is obvious 4. Please clarify Xiaolan's emotional line as soon as possible. Xiaolan's plot is too much, Shinichi's plot is very delayed, and the other characters are meaningless 5. It's one hundred thousand words, and it feels like the story has not advanced much compared to the beginning.

I really don't like multiple anime crossovers, but they also forcefully add demon slayers and have a bad word count for breathing techniques. Obviously there are a lot of things that can be written about the local world, the magic in Magic Kaito that has been linked to it; there are so many things like Lupine the Third and Cat Eyes

So far, it's pretty good. Even though Conan fandoms are poorly written, the author has come up with new ideas, and it's not objectionable to dismantle CPs. Different identities have also written in their own styles. The disadvantage is that the writing is poor. People will feel dizzy when looking at the game settings, and the details are not interesting. In short, the flaws do not hide the advantages, and it is worth seeing.

This is not an act, he is a completely different person, not at all like Kudo Shinichi 😰

When the protagonist was playing Kudo Shinichi, he kept teasing Xiaolan and making some dirty jokes. Xiaolan actually didn't give the protagonist a kick. It was so inconsistent with the character. After all, Xiaolan could even see through Kid's disguise as Shinichi.

What about today's update? Wasn't it just released yesterday? Don't tell me this is a eunuch

It's too outdated and the pace is too slow. The key is that there are too few updates and it's very uncomfortable to follow.

I would like to ask the book friends who are still following it, have you stopped reading it again at the peak of the popularity?

The update is so slow and the quality should be mentioned 😐 Since the main body is a little black man, there is no sense of evil. You can manipulate Shirley's emotions, but the game breaks down and kills yourself. Give more conflict turning point effects. Until now, the protagonist has a lot of plug-ins and operations, and the actual effect is almost non-existent... Take the murderer The spoof effect of the protagonist with the image of a little black man is actually not as good as that of Martin. He looks like an obedient elementary school student who plays pranks. Martin has his own story and changes. He has to maintain the original plot and fear that he will lose control. He also has to maintain his acting image, and there is no chemical reaction to fear that the plot will get out of control. However, the character still has an OOC feeling that maintains the original plot. Like Kudo Shinichi, you can just be a little quiet, and then tell Xiaolan that he is a clone, and Kudo Shinichi has died, and then reverse it, which is a cognitive bias caused by the influence of drugs. Tomo Furukawa's hangup makes readers uncomfortable. You can stop playing if you don't want me to successfully play the role. Kill Gin and then give him a reason. You'd better not suspect that little Karami who can escape from Masked Superman many times is having an affair with Masked Superman. Then after killing Gin, you have to get a Gin character card, play Gin hard, and then get tired and break the defense and start OOC. Or in the name of Gin's character, he persecuted both the red and black parties, including his own people. I have written so much that I almost want to buy a book myself.

This IP has really been written to waste. It's all about love and bad jokes. Now I don't even have basic ideas. The old author is resting on his laurels. The book about snake spirit disease is not finished yet, but it is interesting and creative. The book about corpse collectors is very exciting. After reading about 2000 chapters, I kept playing bad jokes and wrote the organization to be the same as a sz. Anyone who has watched the anime will not accept that the organization is the same as a second sz, but at least it is a trick of the book and I agree. Another point is that the second generation of this IP who likes love is the main force.

There is no guarantee that the two books will be updated on time just one day after they were released.

It's a bad habit to not send out leave application stamps. People can't figure out whether they are cut off or asking for leave due to something. 🤔

After watching it, I actually enjoyed watching Kobayashi-san's storyline more than Shinichi's storyline.

I have mixed feelings. I originally only read the pure love novel, but when I saw this kind of fanfic, where the protagonist sprinkles sweets with Xiaolan and pranks Conan by the way, it's quite interesting.

How to put it this way, I don't object to supernatural powers being introduced in the world of Conan. After all, Koizumi Anko is included in the original work, so I didn't say anything when Kamen Rider was added. However, the introduction of Demon Slayer's world view is unacceptable. I hope there won't be anything similar in the future.

I'm Chaowei, you can break it up for me.

It is recommended that newcomers can read Chapter 1 first, and then jump directly to Chapter 5 without much impact. There are several highlights of this book so far. The first one is to persecute Conan, making Conan suspect that the protagonist is the real Kudo, but he cannot completely believe it, otherwise this aspect will be missing a lot. The love between Kudo and Xiaolan played by the second protagonist, as well as daily reasoning incidents. The tasks played by the new identity of the third protagonist and some wonderful reactions produced by the original Conan world are both good and bad. If it is bad, it will probably destroy the original Conan world view and make people feel out of place. So far, the author's arrangements for the first two points are quite good. As for point 3, there are not many chapters at the moment and it has not been fully developed yet. In addition, I hope the author's main perspective is on Kudo's identity.

Water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water Water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water Water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water Water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water Water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water Water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water Water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water Water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water ~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water ~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water ~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water ~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water ~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water ~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water ~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water ~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~ Water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water Water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water Water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water Water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water Water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water Water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water Water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water Water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water ~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water ~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water ~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water ~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water ~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water ~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water ~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water ~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~ Water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water Water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water Water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water Water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water Water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water Water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water Water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water Water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water ~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water ~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water ~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water ~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water ~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water ~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water ~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water ~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~ Water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water Water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water Water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water Water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water Water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water Water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water Water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water Water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water ~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water ~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water ~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water ~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water ~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water ~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water ~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water ~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~water~

When will I take over Officer Mu Mu?

After reading it, it is quite interesting. So far, it seems that the three-person interaction between the protagonist and Xiaolan Mariko is well written. It is rare to write the feeling of three childhood sweethearts. Xiao Ai and Gin Jiu are persecuted, and some tragedies in the original work are also saved. It's just that the emotional line feels a bit vague, so can you give me a clear reply? Isn't Xiaolan really the single heroine?

Author, have you ever thought about changing the title of the book? If you want to read Conan fanfiction, you will usually search for Conan or Ke Xue. Name Ke. No one will search for you, so you don't need to change too much. Just add Conan before the original title.

Get a Joker card and randomly match Batman. Batman comes to his loyal Gotham and finds that he doesn't have enough time!

It would be great if there is a tiger talisman, so that you can get the beautiful and kind mother Xiaolan, and the poisonous tongue lady Xiaolan 😍😍😍