I Became a Food Developer in Another World - Chapter 67 - : Expiration Date (1)

Born into a wealthy family, Gu Shenwei was spoiled and carefree. However, at the age of 14, his entire family were brutally murdered, and he was caught by some bandits who sold him into slavery. As a slave boy, he entered Golden Roc Fort by chance and found the man who had slaughtered his family. He endured insults and worked hard to improve his kung fu while working as a slave boy. He learned from and plotted against his enemy under the enemy’s nose. He became increasingly ambitious as he became more and more powerful. He would only be satisfied if he completely destroyed his enemy—by fair means or foul. Gradually his bitter experience turned him into a totally different person.

This is a kung fu fiction that is full of mysteries and surprises. This is a story dealing with love, betrayals and distances. This is the journey of an ordinary boy who, against all odds, fought against formidable foes. This is a tale regarding a person who felt abandoned by the world made unremitting efforts to create a new world of his own, in which he was alone.

For those who fought in war, war never ends.

But Xiao Yuan’s war has just begun…a war that has ended.

Guderian?

Rommel?

Manstein?

The USSR needs only one soldier… Shulka

- Description from novelbuddy

There is always such a person in the world, his family background is better than yours, his status is higher than yours, while you work hard and think all the way up, but with just a wave of his hand, you are wiped out. What is even more sad is that he doesn’t even know who you are.

Zheng Jue met Han Jin like this but he didn’t realize this truth until he died. In the end, he had found the wrong opponent and ultimately lost his life.

- 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.”