I Am Not The God Of Drama Chapter 108

[ … words ]

Just one bite… It can’t hurt, right?

The moment this thought crossed Chen Ling’s mind, it became impossible to suppress.

He glanced outside to confirm no one was watching, then, as if possessed, tore off a small piece of the roasted chicken… After all, this was a calamity. If other residents saw him eating it, unnecessary misunderstandings would surely arise.

The aroma of roasted meat infused with wine flooded his nostrils, nearly blanking out his mind. Almost instinctively, he popped the morsel into his mouth and chewed.

[Audience Expectation +1]

Delicious.

Too delicious!

This was a texture Chen Ling had never experienced before—tender yet springy, bursting with juices. A single bite sent waves of satisfaction from his tongue straight to his brain, as if his entire body was floating in euphoria. All his exhaustion melted away.

A faint red glow flickered in Chen Ling’s eyes. The idea of just one bite had completely vanished. His hands tore frantically at the chicken’s body, stuffing chunk after chunk of succulent meat into his mouth!

[Audience Expectation +1]

[Audience Expectation +1]

[Audience Expectation…]

Chen Ling seemed to descend into a trance-like state. Behind him, pairs of crimson eyes materialized in the void, their slitted pupils watching the scene with amusement and intrigue.

Meanwhile, the shadow centipede—still clinging to life—let out a bloodcurdling screech that echoed through the streets.

It could feel its body being ripped apart piece by piece. In its agony, it writhed and twisted. Annoyed by the noise, Chen Ling casually grabbed a nearby wine jar and smashed it over the creature’s body.

The rich scent of alcohol drenched the centipede. Then, without hesitation, Chen Ling plunged the burning rod straight into its flesh.

Whoosh—!

Flames erupted, engulfing the shadow centipede entirely.

Its vitality dwindled rapidly in the inferno, its body curling into a charred husk… In its final moments, as if sensing something, its scorched, gaping maw turned toward the crimson eyes looming behind Chen Ling…

A grating, inhuman screech tore from its throat as it struggled to utter a single word:

“…King.”

The calamity’s wails faded. The raging fire spread from the distillery, devouring the shop.

The owner, who had fled halfway, stopped in his tracks and looked back at the burning building… Conflict churned in his eyes.

The distillery’s on fire… Is that law enforcer okay? Why hasn’t he come out yet? Did he pass out? Is that monster really dead?

A jumble of thoughts swirled in his head.

After a long pause, he gritted his teeth and turned back.

These excuses were just that—excuses. This was his one chance to prove himself in front of a law enforcer. If he walked away now, he’d never become one.

If Chen Ling’s in trouble and I save him, my future’s set. If he’s fine, worst case, I get scolded.

Comforting himself with this logic, he crept toward the blazing shop entrance, about to call out—

Then he froze.

At the heart of the flames, a scorched centipede convulsed in its death throes. Crouched before it was a shadowy figure, hands clawing wildly at its flesh and limbs, shoving them into its mouth with frenzied abandon.

Thick, greenish blood dripped from its lips. Its hands, charred by the fire, seemed numb to the pain as it feasted like a ravenous scavenger.

The owner’s pupils shrank in horror. He stumbled back, a rustling sound escaping his throat.

The figure stopped mid-bite.

Amid the flickering flames, it slowly turned its head toward him—a half-chewed centipede leg dangling from its mouth, its eyes glowing an eerie red.

It tilted its head, as if pondering, then ripped off the centipede’s massive skull and extended it toward the owner.

Through a mouthful of meat, it mumbled:

“…Want some?”

The owner’s eyes rolled back. He fainted on the spot.

Seeing the owner decline, Chen Ling stopped sharing. He devoured the remaining chicken legs with loud, crunching bites… By the time he finished, the entire two-meter calamity had vanished, leaving only greasy stains on the ground.

Chen Ling let out a satisfied burp.

Staggering to his feet, the red glow in his eyes faded as rationality flooded back. He stared blankly at the empty corner.

“…Did I eat it all?” Chen Ling frowned, clutching his head in confusion. What just happened?

His memory stopped at the first bite. By the time he regained awareness, the entire chicken was gone—and that thing had been two meters long.

He looked down at his stomach. No bulge. No fullness. Only an intoxicating aftertaste lingered on his tongue.

Yet all the exhaustion from his earlier battles had vanished. And unless he was imagining it, his mental energy seemed… slightly stronger?

Glancing guiltily at the greasy stains, Chen Ling turned to leave—then hesitated and doubled back.

He stashed his weapons, grabbed a wine jar and the burning rod, and strode out of the shop, thoroughly pleased.

“Why’s he here?”

At the entrance, he spotted the unconscious owner.

After a few failed attempts to wake him, Chen Ling looked around, then reluctantly set down the wine jar and dragged the man into a nearby room, locking the door behind him.

As he stepped outside, static crackled from his radio.

“This is Xi Renjie… I’ve cleared Frost River Street. The entire western sector should be secure now.” Xi Renjie’s voice was hoarse, his words laced with exhaustion. “But I’m reaching my limit… Chen Ling, how are you holding up?”

Chen Ling raised the radio, his voice brimming with energy.

“I’m great… Really great.”