Daddy CEO's Beloved Wife - Chapter 393 A Traumatic Memory

Waking up from a big dream, Fu Yu felt that he had been forced into a mouthful of pie by God.

Everything familiar, suddenly becomes virtual.

Working kitchen table, tools used, co-workers, and customers.

All things have become walking NPCs and auxiliary props.

Daily life and work have become the main tasks that need to be completed, and the key clues for advancement.

 …

The customer ordered a piece of loose pork.

Fu Yu took out a piece of fresh tenderloin: [Pork: Freshness: 90%]

Holding an egg with one hand: [Egg: Freshness: 85%]

Heat oil in a pan, prepare starch, and prepare onion, ginger, and garlic.

First fried and then fried, the meat is cooked out of the pan, put on a plate and served in front of customers: [Ding! Complete the task with a slice of loose meat. Get rewards: cooking experience +10, RMB +100, a colander without oil! 】

 …

As a chef who is being chased and fed by God, as long as you cook, you will be promoted!

- Description from novelbuddy

A thousand years have passed since the Variants first appeared from the Rifts. God answered the prayers of the human race and gave them a chance to fight back.He bestowed special marks called crests upon twelve who were worthy, granting them unfathomable power to fend off the wave of attacks.Well… that's what the church wants us to think.Man, being man, found a way. And in the present day, large numbers of the population have crests, and those that don't are treated as second-rate.This was the case with Marcus, who spent most of his life doing odd jobs—until one of those jobs led to his demise.At the hands of whom??The son of a major crest-bearing house.Marcus is reincarnated into the body of his killer and soon finds that despite being from a major house, the boy did not have a crest.At least, not one that was bestowed upon him by God.

【Brain battles + leveling up + girls chasing + mild suspenseful reasoning. 】

“I can read minds and I understand psychology.

I can identify everything and even predict my own death.

However, if no girl confesses to me every 30 days, I will die.

The good news is, I've successfully picked up many girls.

The bad news is, the girls who can't have me are starting to go to extremes.

If anyone sees this message, please call an ambu——#$%^&*(……”

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A necromancer and a saint blessed by the Constellations. That’s me.