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... e outsider, the moment before I entered the miracle world, the idea that I wanted to win him at that moment was not what he influenced.

At the moment, I still have this idea unchanged. This obsession itself represents a part of the will that I have not been affected. ”

"It's not just that, it's more than me. Every time a god-level powerhouse goes to other worlds, it's obviously not under his influence." Urbian said: "Every time God's level is gone, it's all going In a world that he ...

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I spent my life playing a game.
I hit the wall, stuck in second place for the rest of my life.

[Can you live as yourself, using your own nickname?] DarkLord of Underworld: Even if a man can’t eat, he can survive!

Out of the blue, I received a message and was possessed by the game.
As the worthless son of an Underworld Boss!

“Yes, bloodline is also a power, as long as you can use it. My ability is ‘Famiglia’.”

The game addict never disappears. Overwhelming violence, endless wealth, connections in the other world. I, I’ll use anything to stay alive!

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“Obtaining the topmost degree of talent in sword arts in the world requires giving up 72 years of lifespan, which leaves you with only five more years of your life. At the same time, you will never be able to feel love, kinship, and friendship, and you’ll end up leading a lonely life until your death, unable to procreate, or to have any descendants.“From now onwards, everything related to happiness in the human world shall no longer be of your concern. Are you willing to accept this?”“Hahahaha, I’m already alone bereft of all support, my hopes dashed to pieces, shouldering only absolutely irreconcilable grudge and hatred, why would I disagree? Why would I not want it? I couldn’t ask for anything better!!”His sword sweeps across the Divine Continent for seven days and nights, moving 90,000 miles through the starry skies, unhindered.He slays saints and buddhas in Heaven, slaughters demons and devils in Hell, sweeping away all the grievances in his heart.

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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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