I’m A Wasteland Giant - Chapter 32 - : Would You Like to Join Us?

On the Star Network there is a gourmet food broadcast, where all you can see are a pair of hands. However each dish that this broadcast comes out with is earthshakingly delicious. What’s more, the broadcast anchor’s voice is simply perfect!

With the broadcast’s rising popularity, several food programs extended him an olive branch. When the anchor appeared on screen, as they suspected, he is handsome enough to incur the wrath of both men and gods! The fans licked their screens with increasing frenzy, but after licking a while, they discovered…

Fans:…Wait a minute, isn’t this our fatally-ill idol who hasn’t long to live?

Small Gong: Take these damned nutrient solutions and throw them away! And get me that broadcast anchor!

- Description from Novelupdates

The world has changed, and so have the people.

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

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.”