Love History Caused By Willful Negligence - Chapter 11Vol. 1 :

This novel is also known as A Stay-at-home Dad's Restaurant In An Alternate World

There is a very strange restaurant in the City of Sin.

Elves and dwarves must share a table, orcs are strangely well behaved, dragons are only welcomed on the small square in front of the restaurant, and the demons must bring their own stool.

This strange restaurant with their strange rules continuous to attract a long line of customers.

“This place serves the best food! The chef of this restaurant is a genius!” Some of the guests in the restaurant left glowing reviews. But these guests have a word of warning for other guests, “No matter what you do, never, never attempt to kidnap the boss or try to ‘eat and run’. You will die.”

A cute little girl stood near the door, and demanded in her tiny voice, “You have eaten the food, now pay up, or I will beat you to death.” The five-meter tall dragon suddenly felt a chill running up its spine.

- 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.”

Among the gods of the heavens, there was a famous laughing stock known throughout the three realms.Legend has it that eight hundred years ago, there was an ancient country within the Central Plains called Xian Le nation.The ancient nation of Xian Le had vast territory, abundant resources and content citizens. The country had four treasures: delicate beauties aplenty, thriving arts & literature, treasures of gold and jewels and last but not least, their renown Royal Highness the Crown Prince.This person, His Royal Highness the Crown Prince....you could say.... was a strange man.The Emperor and Empress considered him to be the apple of their eyes. They doted on him immensely and would often proudly proclaim: “In the future, my son will surely become a wise monarch, leaving a reputable impression for generations to come .”Yet, in the regards of what came with royalty, of riches, power and honor, the Crown Prince had no interest.What he was interested in, quoting the very words he often said to himself, was——“I want to save the common folks!”The young prince cultivated in earnest. During this time, two short stories became widely circulated. .The first story occurred when he was seventeen years old.That year, the nation of Xian Le held a magnificent Offering to the Gods parade.Although this tradition had already been abandoned for numerous centuries, through surviving ancient texts and verbal stories, one could imagine the grandeur of the event..Offering to the Gods day, Martial God Main Street.Both sides of the Main Street were overflowing with a sea of people. The aristocrats were seated on top of high buildings as they exchanged friendly chatter; while the imperial guards cleared the way with their impressive armours clinking. Young girls danced gracefully as their snow-white hands scattered flower petals like rain, filling the sky as far as the eye could see. It made people question whether the dancing maidens were more beautiful or the flowers themselves. Melodious notes sounded from within golden carriages and floated throughout the whole Imperial City. Behind honorable guards, sixteen white horses with golden bridles walked side-by-side as they pulled forward a magnificent platform.Located on top of the tall, magnificent platform was the focus of everyone’s attention, there stood the martial artist to perform a show to please the Gods.During the festive heavenly parade, the martial artist would adorn a golden mask, don splendid garments and wield a sword in one hand. He would perform the role of the first military deity in a millennium to have subdued demonic beasts——Martial God Heavenly Emperor Jun Wu.Being selected as the martial artist to perform such a show could be considered equivalent as to receiving the utmost honour, and thus the selection criteria was extremely strict. This year, the one who was chosen was none other than His Royal Highness the Crown Prince. The entire nation was convinced that he would surely be able to become the most marvellous martial artist to perform such a performance since the beginning of time.However, on that day, something unexpected occurred.During that time, the martial god on the magnificent stage was just about to land a killing blow on a demon.This was the most exciting scene, and thus the people on both sides of the Main Street were fired up with passion. The people on the city walls were also becoming more rowdy as they started outdoing each other in sticking their heads out to see, both struggling and shoving.Right at this moment, a young child fell from the top of the city gate tower.

The Empire's forces retreated in desperation—trampled by faceless horrors bringing darkness and death to these once beautiful lands.Only the most courageous stood in defiance, forming a last defence to buy the people time to flee—fighting until the final embers of hope burned out.A man stands with a silver sword, like a beacon of hope to those around him. He roared with all his might drawing his blade against the overwhelming enemy!“You face Lancelot, Sword of the Empire! ”These horrors tested the Lord's grit and loyalty in the final moments.“Should my blade break, I will use my body!”The knights had fallen, broken swords for their tombstones, and lords fled, betraying the Empire to survive.“If my body breaks, I'll use my Soul!”Lancelot, the sword of the Empire, fought alone.All hope seemed lost.“And if my Soul fails...”What could a single man and his army do?He fights against the dark tide, blade in hand, heart on sleeve.“I will sell myself to the devil for revenge!”But he was too weak, too fragile.The last Lord of humanity stood against the enemy.Lancelot was a master of the sword, a mortal, neither a God nor a Saint.Miracles were beyond his reach.Now only a broken man impaled on his own destroyed throne.His blade shattered—now, like rose petals, it was scattered across the charred ground.Lancelot's soul was fated for the abyss as the light faded from his eyes.His last ounce of resistance used staring at the man who betrayed the Empire.Now with only the desire to kill, crush and seek revenge smouldering inside him.Now unwilling to die and desperate to fight once again.He desired to fight for the people who supported him.Lancelot refused to surrender, to fall like this.As quietly in the abyss, a voice whispered to him.It tried to entice the Lord, ignite his desire to win and fight again.“If given a second chance, to relive your life with a different choice... Would you Accept?”Blood gathered in his throat, forcing him to reply in his mind.A frail and broken voice'There is no reason to ask, of course!'“No matter the cost?”'Even if I were to lose everything...''If my people can live on. I would sacrifice everything I have!'“You will no longer be the same, a monster, twisted and vicious.”“Will you still accept?”The Lord's heart ached, taking great pride in his humanity.To lose that caused his mind to falter.Finally, out of power, unable to speak or reply with a trembling arm.Lancelot reached out.Towards the raspy voice.Towards the abyss.Towards a new future.[So you would accept after all...]'I must accept.''I must stand tall.''I must not break.''Because...''I am the Lord of humanity![Nay, you are the king of demons]