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... lances, their faces carrying expressions of regret and determination as they both made the same move, reaching for their swords to press against their own throats. They wanted to atone for their sins with death but were stopped by Han Yu, who knocked the swords to the ground.

The two female guards hadn’t expected Han Yu to stop them; given how angry the master had just been, he clearly seemed to wish he could kill them to vent his frustration. Thus, there was a moment of stunned silence ...

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In the dream, Yi Meng will incarnate various non-human beings in the beautiful heavens.

Justice League, the first Doomsday head of Superman’s Kryptonian homeworld. Marvel Universe, Artificial Intelligence of Iron Man’s Daughter. Harry Potter, The Sword of Gryffindor at Hogwarts.

When the people of the motherland came to reality, they looked up to the sky and laughed maniacally, trying to become the gods of all mankind.

Yi Meng decided not to pretend.

“People from the motherland invaded the real world? Fortunately, I am the Doomsday Superman!”

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There are already two premium Marvel fanbooks with a high order of over 20,000—[My Marvel Superman Girlfriend] and [I Draw Unlimited Cards in Marvel], quality assurance!

- Description from novelbuddy

Pretending To Be GodChapter 42: Who Can Talk?
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George Sterling, once a successful lawyer turned actor, then turned magician, finds himself in dire straits as the rise of Artificial Intelligence takes away all his livelihoods. As he nears the end of his life, a family heirloom, a mysterious ring passed down from his father, transports him to an unfamiliar world seemingly distant from reality.

Upon awakening, George discovers a newfound opportunity that awaits him. Initially tasked with portraying the Wizard of Oz to survive, he delves into this new role. However, as he embraces his new identity, an even greater challenge lies ahead: he must venture into the realm of pretending to be a god.

This book uses characters and elements from L. Frank Baum's original Oz series which has entered the public domain and allows me to use them in my original book as long as I do not use the characters and elements from the adaptations that haven't entered the public domain.

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Throughout this current life of mine, I will pay no attention to my past lives, nor will I seek future lives. I wish to live vigorously, to pay back debt of gratitude and fulfill duty to avenge, to defeat valiant heroes from all species, and to proudly laugh at all the Gods and Demons of the Six Path of Reincarnation!

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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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