Return of The 8th Class Mage - Chapter 220

Every night, he prayed. To every god on Earth.“Please, transport me to a fantasy world when I wake up tomorrow.”And then one day, his prayers were answered.Just not in the way he had hoped for.

One imperial edict and the family’s calculation, the sweet, adorable her met the cold him that was up high. She became his little princess consort. Everyone said that Prince Ying of Western Xuan Empire was shockingly ugly, cold-blooded and ruthless. They laughed at her that she had mistakenly entered the tiger’s den with her life in danger. But she just laughed that everyone in the world couldn’t see the wider picture, and were stupid and ignorant. The ugly appearance was actually beyond gorgeous, cold-blooded was actually gentle and sweet. She only wanted to hide him away and not allow other people to peep at him. “Big Ice Cube, take off your mask and let this princess have a look!” She propped up her chin with saliva flowing down.

Humanity achieved dominion over the galaxy long ago.Once that was accomplished, they turned their ingenuity inwards. With their prowess over biological engineering, they transformed themselves into deific beings now called the Gene Tyrants. For centuries, the Gene Tyrants terrorized the galaxy, designing and abusing their genetically engineered servants and serfs as their whims took them.No tyranny can last forever, though, and the Gene Tyrants were eventually overthrown. The rebels discovered a strange light of the mind called Aether, which gave them the strange and fantastical powers they needed to eradicate their creators. Once that was done, however, that by no means meant peace.In the thousand years since, the face of the galaxy has changed. The most powerful human civilization is called the Supremacy, the homeland of 'might makes right'. In the Supremacy, a crime committed by the strong is no crime at all. With their military strength and mastery of Aether, the Supremacy has spread across the galaxy -- with the other powers able to do little but stall their advance. This struggle has developed into a cold war, and that cold war has frozen over for years now.Dragan Hadrien, a low-level administrator in the Supremacy, cares nothing for any of this. Dragan's primary concern is getting himself a promotion and taking it easy for the rest of his days. When a mysterious prisoner is brought aboard his ship, he thinks he has found the means to do just that.How naive of him.

“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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