Hedonist Sovereign - Chapter 487

All she was doing was playing QQ Farm, how did she end up waking up somewhere foreign?

The Year 1766

Disowned by her own family for their own reasons, she was taken in by a maid at the age of seven to work at the Carmichael's household. The Carmichael's were one of the respectable pureblooded family in Bonelake and like any other household, there were rules. Rules that needed to be followed by the servants and maids.

Like everyone else, she was reminded not to disobey the rules. But before she learns to walk in the shadows like the rest without a whisper, the Duke's young son calls her 'Bambi' and everything breaks loose.

Book cover credit: complxmars

Transmigrating from the Apocalypse to a technologically developed, peaceful world, Qiu Yu’s killing skills cultivated through hundreds of life-and-death situations suddenly lost their use, and even his body turned into a weak, squeamish…

Qiu Yu’s world views shattered into pieces: What the heck is an Omega?!

Qiu Yu, who knows nothing but fighting, eventually decided to become an anchor for a full-dive game—not only could he use his battle techniques to make a living, but he also didn’t have to brave leaving the house and meeting people—it was the perfect job.

However, in his first-ever broadcast, he shot an arrow straight through the heart of the e-sport circle’s verified no.1 god of war.

Mu Feibai touched the place above his heart, the corner of his mouth hooking up: Interesting… Come play professionally.

Qiu Yu rejected him: social anxiety, not going, see ya.

…And then he was sold off by his live-streaming platform to play for a professional team.

Qiu Yu: This was different from my plan!

Mu Feibai: You shot an arrow straight into my heart… baby, you still want to run?

- Description from Novelupdates

“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”

……………………………………………………………

Dear readers! Without any ads, maybe you will prefer .