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... s? The young eagle can only open his own wings and face everything outside. The fastest growth, the master can not live with you forever, your growth, you need to work **** your own, society is your best master. You have achieved the achievements of the master now, you have not lost the master I have only received a disciple from you for the rest of my life, but I have already satisfied, and I am crying! Didn’t this happen to the master? The man, the husband, is not allowed to cry any more."

...

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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.

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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“I’m very sorry, but we are unable to cure you.”

“W-wait! Even AIDS can be cured now, how come nymphomania can’t?”

“Ha… haha…”

There was no other choice, Dan Ziwei could only return to his old job of being a quiet, peaceful gamer. Though, the games nowadays were a bit… strange…

Scenario 1: You like to shake hands with strangers.
Scenario 2: You like to hug friends.
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Scenario 4: You’re a bottom.
Scenario 5: Important things should be said twice.

Dan Ziwei: … How am I meant to play a game like this?! (╯‵□′)╯︵┻━┻

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That husband of hers who had died on the battlefield was now the cultivation world’s deity, and sent people to pick her up for celestial cultivation?

Fine, she’ll cultivate, but how did she accidentally cultivate into someone else’s body?

Changing old patterns up and playing swapping the frame…

Young man, granny is 70 this year, is your taste heavy enough?

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