Martial Arts Returnee's Game Broadcast - Chapter 312: The World’s Greatest Martial Arts Cooking Tournament

Xia Mi traveled to a classic JRPG game and became a villager in Xinshou Village.

My biggest wish is to save money, then marry a woman from another race, live a safe and worry-free life, and finally die in bed.

On this day, the brave men defeated the Demon King.

【Name: Xia Mi】

[Occupation: Villager]

Added: [Occupation: The new heir to the Demon King]

[Devil King act quickly! Kill all the heroes! Revive the glory of the demon race! 】

Wait, is this a mistake?

In Xinshou Village, besides farming every day, Xia Mi, who is serving as a background board, suddenly has an additional identity board.

He is just a novice villager!

“Where is the devil king! Where is the devil king!”

The news of the Demon King’s birth spread throughout the mainland. Every brave man who came to defeat the Demon King could see a steady stream of monsters in Xinshou Village, but he never saw the Demon King.

Villager of a certain Xinshou Village: Demon King? I’m a farmer, so I really don’t know.

- Description from novelbuddy

Hello, everyone. My name is Shen JianGuo. I’m a night school teacher. I mainly teach the subjects of (Marxist) philosophy and ethics. I occasionally review new policies and measures for the students. I never see my colleagues and students during the day. The training institute classrooms are all abandoned schools, hospitals, or houses. The bus number is 444 and it always appears in front of my door at 12 midnight and disappears before 5am.

What? You say I met a ghost? Impossible. As a staunch scientific materialist, I don’t believe ghosts exist in this world.

But recently I’ve had an issue to raise. Can the training institute bring the class time up a little bit? Wouldn’t it be good to start around 8pm? Though I fear nothing on earth or in the heavens, I’m afraid of going bald.

- Description from Novelupdates

Ten thousand years later, ice has melted. The Soul Federation Scientific Exploration team found an egg with a golden and silver pattern on it in the far north of the land, and after examining it with an apparatus, they found out that there were vital signs inside. They hurriedly brought it back to the institute for hatching.

The egg hatched, but it was a baby, a baby exactly the same as a human – a baby born out of an egg.

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.”