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... host!"

Yi Wozuo was very excited.

He can't walk when he sees a strong man, and even in the face of the person he likes, he will persuade him to become a ghost.

If he agrees, then he will go to Kiwu Tsuji Wumai himself, or use his own method to turn him into a powerful ghost.

But if he was rejected, he wouldn't be angry, he would just twist the other person's head off with a smile.

In his worldview, only taking the life of the strong with one's own hands is the ...

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Chosen after a long period of bloodline selection, seven women with the mixed blood of goddesses were selected to be the Imperial Guards and become direct trusted aides loyal only to the Emperor himself—this was the reason why the Haines Empire was the strongest military power on the continent.

Armed with teleportation magic and city-destroying forbidden spells that could be used at will, they were undoubtedly the most terrifying war machines in this land. However, in reality, these demigod Imperial Guards were far less outstanding than the legends…

“They don’t have the moral values of humans! They’re just a bunch of degenerates who only care about profits!” A transmigrator from another land, His Highness Rayne would always kick the coffin board agitatedly at the mention of these Imperial Guards.

“The System resurrected me a thousand times, of which at least 800 times, I was stabbed in the back by them!”

If he killed them, he would have no one of use in the Empire.

If they were left alive, he would be stabbed in the back sooner or later.

After the thousandth rebirth, Rayne finally figured out an unprecedented path.

This time round, he was no longer going to negotiate using benefits—he was going to conquer them with his personal charm!

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I want to be the strongest NPC in history.

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Who says an NPC will be killed by players?

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“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.

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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.

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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.

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“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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