You were supposed to hoard supplies, why the heck did you hoard zombies! - Chapter 240 - 239: I Want Salt

I was reincarnated into another world, and I’ve brought the Horadric Cube from Diablo II with me.
Being a knight is cool and all, but being a wizard is pretty neat as well.
So, which one will it be?

'Dregs' reborn, aiming for a harmonious marriage, children gathered around the knees, and to beat up the scumbags and promiscuous women!The timid and unlucky her, turned life into a sigh, also causing that person and her children to become tragic figures.Reborn, she wants to engrave strength into her bones!Disasters one after another, difficult to fill the belly?No fear, with our Plant Ability in hand, seeds can turn into rice ears in minutes, and white rice and flour can be made at will!Ungrateful brats?Hmph, the education starts from the womb, determined to make them keep gratitude in their hearts.High-class women unable to give birth want to steal our children?Hehe, the woman rolled up her sleeves and sneered: Those not afraid to die, come and fight!Loyal dog: Wife, how can dirty work like fighting soil your hands? Leave it to me!Little radishes one, two, three, four, five, six all lift sticks: We are here too, we are here too, Mom, we brothers are all on the same vine with you!

I am the most talented guardian of this era!

But no one knows, I still have a second template, the knife cuts the flesh, the intention cuts the soul!

You may have seen the meatless juggernaut, but you have never seen a full-time meat shield with an explosive attack!

- 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.”