A World Worth Protecting - Chapter 1375: Blue Delight Fish

He was not a human since no human is aware of himself even before his birth.

He has no blood and no heart, but emotions?

He does have feelings, but can he express them?

Why was he called a Devil’s Spawn at his birth?

Why did they cut away his arms and a leg?

Why did no one ever visit him for years?

And why does this emptiness... feels so... just so familiar?

Why does the Void feel so... full?

Who is he? Or rather... What is he?

In one timeline, Shen Yu joked to his frends that he would send his new disciple to Soaring Heaven's Isle, an all-female sect.In another, this wasn't a joke.All Jin Rou knows is that this supposed man's dream isn't all its cracked up to be, espcially after two errant Soaring Heaven's Isle diciples accidentally blow him, and the floating island he was living on, up.Wherever he goes... this poor guy can't seem to catch a break. Or lose the chicken.The maybe harem, maybe romance, defintiely comedy timeline of Beware of Chicken, starring Rou, his cock, and his two idiots, Bailu and Seiyu.

– Question: “What is scarier than the personal experience of transmigrating into a horror movie?”

Anonymous: “Transmigrating into a movie you’ve never seen before.”

– “Poor comment! There’s nothing scary about that!”

Anonymous reply: “You sure? Can you be sure your dad isn’t a murderer? Can you be certain your spouse isn’t out to kill you for insurance money? Can you even be certain there isn’t any hidden lethal weapon in your son’s lunchbox? The scariest thing is that you have never seen this movie before so, you have absolutely no idea of any ‘surprise’ that awaits you ahead!”

Hence, this novel is also called .

A line to sum it up: The female lead transmigrates into various movie adaptations of real stories, and conquers the audience.

- 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.”