Gourmet of Another World - Chapter 1719 - The Popcorn Eater, Bu Fang

Twenty years after the slow apocalypse that tore humanity apart, the world has adapted—turning it all into a Game. A Game where millions die each month, without fail.Amidst the ashes of the fallen, a mysterious young man named Adam emerges.In a world where Heroes, monsters, and warfare have become entertainment, Adam has kept to the shadows. That is, until he is summoned to fight.But Adam harbors a secret far greater than the Game itself.***MC is a kind, cute, wolverine honey badger bunny.

Chu Yunsheng’s head hurts every time he wakes up. Because he is usually either lying in the villain’s bed, or had just gotten up from the villain’s bed.

The reason why villains are called villains is because they are extremely lethal and vengeful… and they love to blacken…

Villain: Bastard, I will castrate you!

Chu Yunsheng: …Oh.

- Description from Novelupdates

“Listen, the ancient gods are whispering, He said…they will return eventually!”

According to legend, the rulers of this world should have been those ancient gods, and every death of them was a grand rebirth…

Those who believe in the gods wake up the sleeping gods, light torches in the dark, and burn the world.

My father disappeared because he was investigating the resurrection of a certain god, and his life and death are still unknown.

I panicked, but not totally panicked.

Because the resurrected god is me.

- Description from novelbuddy

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.”