The Hero Turned Into A Potato And The World Fell To Ruin

Today was roughly the 60th day since Liu Ji became a potato.

Well, roughly.

People could easily forget the date even with a calendar, much less after becoming a potato. As a potato, the perception of time was much blurrier; it might have been 60 days, perhaps slightly over 60 days, or even roughly 70 days.

It wasn't that Liu Ji didn't want to leave, but rather, put it this way: being a potato was surprisingly comfortable.

No need to eat, no need to drink. Basking in the sunlight, engaging in photosynthesis, and the day just passed by.

In his previous life, Liu Ji spent three years in high school losing his hair from stress, then having to get a driver's license after graduating. He thought college would be easier, only to find out that he had been deceived for a whole 18 years—college wasn't easy at all. Just Advance Mathematics and English were enough to leave him concussed, and that wasn't even mentioning the tons of major-specific modules.

All he experienced in that half a lifetime was exhaustion.

And when chatting with various alumni and hearing them complain about the hardships of their work lives, Liu Ji felt utterly weary. It seemed like a person's life had to be spent in constant busy hustle, never stopping to rest.

Compared to that, being a wild potato might perhaps be a little more relaxing.

No danger, no stress, nothing to do, not having to think, no worries, no need to strive… He could just comfortably soak up the sun and watch as the days went by.

Sometimes, Liu Ji even thought about being a potato for a lifetime…

Well, that wouldn't really work.

A human’s life was much more exciting, after all.

But if it was just a little extended vacation, Liu Ji didn't mind lazing about for another month or two.

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In the royal court, the elderly king watched the slowly revolving astral map, awaiting the oracle's revelation.

After the failure of the previous summoning ritual, he had spent a month and, at the cost of several nobles' heads, finally gathered the resources needed for the second summoning.

Now, the summoning was complete, and the mists of fate were parting to reveal the location of the summoned one.

The king waited quietly.

A minute. Ten minutes. An hour. Several hours…

This time, the changes in the astral map were exceptionally slow, taking a full day and night before the image finally began to emerge.

However, upon seeing the scene in the image, the drowsy king's eyes suddenly opened wide.

The location shown in the image was none other than within the royal court, right beneath the astral map.

There, a strapping man stood proudly on the spot. This man, clad in a scarlet cloak and lightweight armor, carrying a long sword and shield, had short brown hair, a righteous face, and a determined look.

If there ever was a template for the image of a "hero," it was definitely him.

The king lowered his head and cast his gaze toward the center of the array, and sure enough, just like in the astral map, there stood the strapping and heroic-looking man.

"Have you all been searching for me all this time?" the man asked, his voice deep and resonant.

"Yes, yes!" The elderly king stood up excitedly. "Hero from another world! It is us who have summoned you! Please save this world and save its people!"

"Mm, it's like this again. I understand." The man nodded.

"Ah? Again?" The elderly king was slightly perplexed.

"Yes, again…" The man in the scarlet cloak smiled, his righteous face beaming like sunlight. "You aren't the first to summon me. You're right, I am a hero from another world. Before this, I've already saved three worlds on the brink of destruction."

"That's… Then, you will save our world too, right?" There was clear excitement in the elderly king's voice.

He suddenly felt that draining the entire kingdom's resources for the second summoning wasn't that bad after all since they were able to summon a hero with such legendary experience.

"Save 'your' world? Uh, of course. I'm a hero. It's my destiny to save worlds," chuckled the self-proclaimed hero as he placed particular emphasis on the word "your."

Then, he walked toward the elderly king and reached out his hands, cupping the king's cheeks.

"Y-you, what are you doing?" The elderly king, still reveling in ecstasy, was taken aback by the hero's sudden action.

Shouldn't this kind of gesture be meant for a princess? Why is he doing this to me?

Could this hero actually have this sort of inclination?

A-am I… for the sake of the world, to sacrifice my… chastity?

As the king's mind raced with wild thoughts, the hero spoke.

"What a beautiful crown," said the hero, his beaming smile glowing like the sun as he cradled the sides of the king's head, his middle fingers gently supporting the crown. "Gorgeous rubies, intricate engravings, finely carved patterns, a masterpiece…"

"Y-your hands are a bit forceful. Could you let go of me?" The elderly king could feel the man's hands pressing harder, squeezing his head tighter and tighter.

However, the hero didn't heed the king.

"Stop! You might be a hero, but you can't disrespect the king!" a royal knight clad in gold armor couldn't tolerate it and bellowed at the man.

Similarly, the hero ignored him.

Instead, he continued to gaze at the crown as if entranced by it, muttering stuff like "beautiful" and "so lovely," while his hands cradled the king's head, continuously lifting it upward.

"No, please stop. It hurts. Ow, ahhh…" The king's head was yanked upward, and he was lifted off his feet, forced to tiptoe as he struggled.

"Bastard! I told you to stop!" the knight in golden armor roared and threw a punch at the man.

An overwhelming pressure encapsulated the strike as a golden aura appeared at the tip of the fist, as if symbolizing the royal knight's golden crest shining brilliantly.

Evidently, this top-tier royal knight of the kingdom was truly angry, and his strike was like a fierce thunder.

Finally, the hero looked at him.

It was just a glance, and then, his right foot kicked out at the knight with a speed almost invisible to the naked eye.

In the next instant, the knight’s upper body exploded into a spray of blood, his organs and fragments of his metal armor splattering against a wall. With a clang, the knight's lower body fell to the ground, leaving a trail of blood and intestines.

"Arghh! No, Ruganes! Aaah! Aaah Aahhh!" The king's eyes were wide in horror seeing the knight's remains.

He could hear his own skull cracking, bit by bit, like a countdown timer to the end of his life.

Boom!

A massive flame appeared out of nowhere, blasting toward the man's back.

The archmage stood solemn as if facing a great threat.

Following closely, all the arcanists beneath the throne also attacked as countless arcane missiles and magical attacks converged on the hero.

However, these formidable magical attacks, upon coming into contact with the man's scarlet cloak, were seemingly absorbed entirely into a dark abyss, causing no harm to the man.

The only effect they had was to make the cloak shine a brighter shade of red and became increasingly dazzling.

And then, it seemed to reach a critical point.

The cloak emitted a blinding line, like a solar flare.

An intense heat swept across the entire royal court, charring hundreds of arcanists into ash before they could even scream. The life-preserving shield conjured by the head arcanist melted rapidly like lard in a hot pan, leaving the kingdom's strongest spellcaster to only watch on in despair as magical energies far beyond his comprehension claimed his life.

The man who called himself a hero didn’t even glance back at them.

He was intently pushing the crown with his middle fingers, slowly sliding it off the king's head.

Creak, Crack.

The king felt his ear bones being crushed into fragments. His eyeballs bulged as if they were about to pop out of their sockets.

Creak, Crack.

The world turned blood-red for the king. The immense pain made him want to scream, but his shattered jawbone only allowed him to emit a mosquito-like whimper.

Creakkk…

Krackkk…

Bang!

Brain matter and blood splattered everywhere.

The headless body collapsed abruptly, and the red gemstones of the blood-soaked crown seemed to bedazzle even more.

Blood and filth flowed down the hands of the hero, who seemed utterly unconcerned. Casually, he twirled the crown and placed it on his own head.

Then, he kicked aside the king's corpse, flipped his cloak, and sat down on the blood-stained throne.

"Now, this is 'our' world."

As he said that, he took out a blood-covered heart from his pocket, flung it to the ground, and crushed it underfoot into a pulp.

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Meanwhile, somewhere in the world, several vultures were picking at a corpse.

It was a body wearing a high school uniform.

His eyes were wide open, limbs stiff, and his face was etched with terror.

And at his chest was a large gaping hole.