With the Flying Man Eater down, Quagmire sighed in annoyance. Now that the thing that had bothered his wonderful meal was gone, he could finally enjoy it. It was only through eating that he found solace, which was a huge contrast to when he was back in his old world; for him, eating was the only thing that was normal and something that he was able to bring over from there to here in this forsaken world.
He was tasked by a goddess to save the world, but he did not know why he was even chosen. Moreover, why had things come to this point? There were myriad races in this world; what had they done? He had traveled tens of kilometers for the past few days, and he still had not seen anything other than rotting corpses and gigantic abominations known as fat men.
