Rebirth As a Fatuous and Self-indulgent Ruler - Chapter 348 - It’s Time for the Show (III)

“Is Fate the excuse of the forsaken, is Free Will the delusion of the chosen?”Such was a question that Xavier, the Demon King, never had the chance to ask himself. As he lay defeated, awaiting his death, he wondered about the wretched life he lived.'The hero who killed me, the one who held the same ambitions as me. We both wanted good for the people, for the world. We are both two sides of the same coin, yet, fate decided that he will be the one the light will shine on.Perhaps it was me too, perhaps it was my karma for flowing the rivers of blood with my sword. But still... It was fate that squashed the humanity in me first!Damn fate, if I had one more chance, I would've lived for myself more, I wouldn't have taken this arbitrary role of being a necessary evil... This world, this game of destiny... It can burn to ashes for all I care.'As he sunk into the cold embrace of death, a certain [REDACTED] heard his dying wish with amusement and cast their die, reversing the wheel of time one last time and going all in on him on a risky gamble with the stakes of their world.

An absurd death at the peak of his career drags Dravin to a parallel world, where he is transmigrated into the body of a man with the same name and face as his own.He used to read webnovels about dragon reincarnation. So he never expects that in this new world, all he has to do is just be himself.Sounds like a dream, right? A second chance at life just for being yourself.But no, not quite. He has to cook delicious meals and serve them to humans possessed by demons.On top of that, Dravin must raise the Pleasure Index of a new world isolated from entertainment so they can be immune to demon attacks.Cooking is his passion, being a chef influencer is his job.Now, hunting demons would be his nightmare come true, or... could it be a wonderful dream, too?***[Chef, please unlock the secret recipe for a broken heart from a cheating partner]“Huh, it seems like curry noodles? Wait... what is this serenity capsule ingredient?”[That's from the tears of Asmodeus, the demon of lust and anger.]“What? How to get that?”[By not having lustful thoughts for 33 days.]“...”

“Devouring Lifespan to grow stronger!!”When Ricky Stormwind—a washed-up office worker—drank himself to death, he expected eternal nothingness. Instead, he awoke in a new world… as a mosquito.Weak as an ant. Fragile as a piece of paper. Prey to everything.But this world is no ordinary one. Magic, monsters, and powerful beings dominate the land, with ruthless forces waging war for supremacy. And Ricky? He possesses a terrifying ability—he can drain lifespan from any living creature and use it to evolve.A single bite can grant him hours. A feast?..... Years!!Now, in a forest filled with predators and beside a village on the brink of destruction, Ricky must climb the evolutionary ladder—from insignificant pest to a calamity that could devour the world itself.But when his first real meal triggers a mass sacrifice, the world mistakes him for a rising Demon Lord. Bounties are placed on his head. Armies march to hunt him down. And lurking in the shadows, a forbidden power calls to him, promising a path beyond mere survival—one that could reshape reality itself.In a world where everything is prey to something greater, something horrendous… he will rise to become the apex.

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.”