I Became a Food Developer in Another World - Chapter 11 - : This is called canned food (1)

Alex, a special operative on Earth who died during a mission, finds himself transmigrated with the identity of an investigative journalist as an agent of a mysterious entity with a simple mission.With the promise that he would be reunited with his family once he was done, Alex accepts the offer and becomes an agent of darkness in a new world teeming with steam-powered machinery and something more... The supernatural.In this new world, he will have to navigate his way through crazy witches, bloodthirsty monsters, religious fanatics, and fallen angels while slowly making his way toward his end goal... Returning to the family he left behind.A journalist by day and a hunter by night, this is the story of the Hunter of Evernight.

“Are you my knight?” The silver-haired youth looked at the blonde girl before him and asked, his cheeks flushed red. This was their first encounter when he was only ten years of age.

“Are you my bride?” He held her in his arms, embraced the girl who had accompanied him for ten years straight. He was sixteen years of age.

“Are you my king?” He knelt before the throne, smiling foolishly as he looked at the girl holding the sword victoriously. At this moment, he looked like the boy he was when they first met.

“I’m fine without having eyes for you. The entirety of Camelot is for your taking.” Smiling soft and gently, he gave his eyes to the girl who lost her eyes due to the curse of the red dragon. He doesn’t regret it, he thinks. He was twenty years of age.

“So… Arthur… Artoria Pendragon, are you willing… are you willing to spend the rest of your life with me?” His voice was soft and clear as he reached out to touch her hand.

This was their legend.

- Description from Novelupdates

Weary reader, it is an honor that you have chosen this book amidst the heavy, dim library.Regrettably, this book is unwell.Your fingers should be able to feel the raised growths on the surface of its cover,Words written in bygone days are like parasites rooted in the pages, hoping for someone to observe their wriggling,To feel, to decipher, to touch the essence of this ailing story.If you insist on borrowing this book, please make sure to regularly check your own physical condition.