Coiling Dragon - Book 19 - Metamorphosis - Chapter 45 – Arrangements

Shen Ran transmigrates to a fantasy world and becomes a disciple of the Empyrean Sword Sect. Problem is, everything about him is ordinary— ordinary talent, ordinary temperament, ordinary life… In this cruel world where cultivation talent determines how far one could go, this means that Shen Ran’s future can be seen at a glance. Banished to the servant quarters as a servant disciple, his daily grind is to attend to mundane chores which will go on until he dies of old age a hundred years later.

Then he comes across a narrative modification system which makes it possible to rewrite entire lives! An avid reader of online novels in his previous life, Shen Ran relishes the chance to read the narratives of everyone and everything and alter them. The narratives modified by him will become reality!

This is the story of how he transforms his ordinary life by editing his narrative and going on to cultivate the Dao, handle calamities, and rule the ages. And he is limited only by his imagination!

Teotihuacan, a sacred place of worship. In the vast world, feel the quaint and desolate ancient city, and the eagle cries and the leopard roars are chasing away.

Go back to Central America 700 years ago, when the Aztecs were very prosperous.

The priests stood at the top of the pyramid of the sun. One hundred thousand warriors covered the entire wilderness. fluttering. The high priest held his hands high, and the obsidian dagger gleamed in the sun, drawing a cruel and gorgeous arc, bringing the cycle of life back to the earth. Tens of thousands of cheers sounded, with the reverence of the ignorant era.

This was a gift dedicated to the sun god, in return for the sacrifice of the gods in creating the world.

Solemn sacrifices from sunrise to sunset, all-night revelry ignited the whole night, and so on for a hundred years, until white-skinned terrors came from the east coast, bringing blood, thunder, monsters, and disease.

Doomsday, as legend has it, or the end of the Fifth Era?

How can a traveler, in this fierce era, inherit the legacy of two thousand years of ancient Mesoamerican civilization, resist the invasion of Western colonizers with an immortal soul, and lead the ancient Aztec civilization to a new path ~~

- Description from novelbuddy

“Y-young master, the Lord is requesting your presence.”

I looked at myself in the mirror as a maid's voice, laced with trepidation, reached my ears.

“Tell him I'll be there shortly.”

“I understand, y-young master.”

I paid no mind to her quivering presence, my gaze fixed on my reflection.

And this is exactly why I despise this character, Yes, He is a villain with my name but does it matter, no, the problem is this guy's weight he is so heavy that this tub of lard is weighing me down, literally.

For someone who prides themselves on muscle, nothing's worse than “fat,” and this guy before me? Well, he's a prime example of that.

“I suppose I need a workout.”

Reaching the door, exhaustion gripped me and I found myself gasping for breath. It was unbelievable – this body was so darn heavy.

After an arduous struggle, I finally made my way out of the room, causing servants carrying a litter¹ to scurry over. They lowered it, creating a path for me to step onto it.

I tried to ignore the spectacle – it was this pampering that turned this fatty into a giant tire. Pushing the annoyance aside, I began to move, managing only about 10 steps before my legs gave out.

Damn it. Seriously? I collapsed, leaving the twenty servants to hastily lift me and place me onto the litter. For me, it felt more like a stretcher. There I was, sprawled on it like some mountain, panting heavily.

“You damn god! I hope the protagonist of your favorite novel gets NTRed!”

“We're here, young master.”

Can you believe it? his father's office is just thirty steps away from this pumpkin room, yet he insists on using a litter.

“Give me a hand.”

I ordered while cursing this hefty body under my breath.

“Oh, come, come, my dear child. How was your day?”

I glanced at the middle-aged man, his face exuding warmth and care.

As for my feelings? This old man right here is the reason this chubby exists. Not that I give a darn about my indulgent father.

“I'm alright, Dad.”

Yes, imagine this: as a noble, this old man spoiled this pumpkin so much that he thinks he can go around scolding the mansion's maids and servants.

“Take a seat. Hey, fetch his chair!”

You might wonder why he doesn't sit on a regular chair. Well, that's because the chair is custom-made to accommodate this hippo-sized frame.

“What's going on, Dad?”

Seriously, why would he summon this big old hippo over to his quarters? There's gotta be a reason for it....

“Your fiancee is coming tomorrow”

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