Cooking System: Street Food Rules - Chapter 271: Street Stall? Fan Meeting?!

Warning! This novel is mindless and vulgar. If you don't like this kind of thing, please don't read it. My name is Silent, and I'm a senior high school student at an ordinary high school in Qingyuan City. One day, I unexpectedly awakened the [Tag System], which completely changed my life. I labeled my mother, younger sister, childhood sweetheart, and best friend from the next class, but why did they all turn into perverted girls...?

# cinderella # supportingcharacter

Song Ci transmigrated into a book as a cannon fodder supporting female character with a burden, also known as her younger brother. The burden Song Yujin said calmly, “Do you plan on hitting me today? If so, hurry up. I have homework to do.” Song Ci was speechless. Wasn’t this the male lead who was tortured by his sister at a young age, and then grew up and tortured the sister back?! As she recalled how the story progressed, Song Ci shuddered and revealed a kind smile. “Yujin, go on and do your homework if you want to. Are you hungry? Why don’t I make you something?” Song Yujin became wary as if his sister was now using a new method to torture him. Song Ci tried several times to gain Song Yujin’s favor but failed, and that made her want to cry.

This day, their cheapskate aunt who rarely paid them a visit suddenly showed up. “Cici, take your cousin’s place and marry Lu Gan. Both of you have burdens so you won’t complain about each other.” Song Ci was speechless. What kind of bullsh*t was this? She had read the book and knew the real story. Their aunt’s family only aimed for Lu Gan because of his good looks and wealthy family background. But now that Lu Gan’s legs were ruined in a car crash, they were trying to push this mess to her instead! Song Ci said, “Sure, I’ll marry him.” Song Ci wanted to refuse, but then she remembered that Lu Gan and his ruthless son ended up hating her in the book for refusing the marriage! If she didn’t agree, her life would be endangered! After they got married…

Lu Gan: My dear, are you hungry? Why don’t I make you something?

The great villain: Mom, I earned a billion. That’ll be your pocket money!

Song Yujin: I saw a rather acceptable necklace in an auction. It’s almost worthy of you, I guess.

Song Xi was speechless. All of a sudden, she was being pampered by bigshots!

On the server “Altar,” a high-class survival game was officially launched. Survival was the only logic in the human game of alliance, betrayal, and human-natured games of deceit and treachery. After the smoke of gunpowder ends, only the survivors can speak.

As soon as he opened his eyes, the amnesiac An Wujiu saw a person at his side killed. While in confusion, a floating green typeface appeared before him.

Variable Name: An Wujiu
Attributes: Male, 20 years old
Game Rounds: 5
Win Rate: 100/100
Danger Rank: SSS

No wonder they were afraid.

The first time he saw An Wujiu, Shen Ti felt curious. The kindness and fragility in those eyes were not fake, so how could he survive in the Altar? It was until he saw the man had a sudden personality change. He recklessly gambled regardless of the cost, casually estranged people, grew further excited on the verge of death, and even calculated against himself to win. Only then did Shen Ti realize that it was his own cognitive bias.

Fortunately, he wasn’t a normal person either.

- Description from Novelupdates

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.”