Game of the Monarch - Chapter 11: The Republic's Ploy (2)

A class full of idols and beautiful people are sent to another world. However there is one guy who is ugly, fat and smells… our protagonist. This is his comedic story of evolution and the slow building of his harem. The first heroine is a gorilla.

When Lucas was having drinks with his friends at a bar a strange girl approach him at a bar and asks Lucas some strange questions.

He didn't think much about that question I mean what could possibly a girl can do and just tell her his ideal world dream but he didn't have thought that by answering this questions, he's on his way down an insane rabbit hole.

But he awaken in a different world almost exactly like his own, but where he have the ability to freely use any woman as he wish for without anyone seeing it as anything other than completely normal, and where anyone will accept any word he say as a truth to be listened to.

Which leaves him only one in this world of casual free use: to become king.

I possessed an extra character who is a villainess in a novel.

I tried to live a quiet life without getting involved with the main character.

“If you run away again, I’ll tie you up and take you to the palace.”

The second prince, who only looked at the original heroine, is obsessed with me.

“I didn’t do it for you, so don’t get me wrong.”

My self-proclaimed rival seems to have a crush on me.

“Ahh! She’s so beautiful!”

“If only I had been hit by her magic once!”

Suddenly, there is a fan club.

“Come, let us all pray reverently while looking at the picture of the noble Yerine.”

My favorite heroine became the president of the fan club.

…… Am I really the villainess?

[Longevity + Discipleship + No Female Lead + Lighthearted Humor with No Tragic Moments]When his master picks food, he spins the table there;When his master chants spells, he chats without a care;When his master takes rest, he sings a lively song;When his master lies late, he bangs the pot along;His master lives on long, but his life is rather short;His master lays him down on the hillside, as a sort;His master lifts a cup, but he won’t take a drink;His master shares a tale, but he won’t stop to think;His master holds a feast, but he leaves the table wide;His master calls his soul, but he’s nowhere to abide.Spring returns to the hills, with blooms so bright and fair,Yet master and disciple are parted, one in heaven, one elsewhere.