I Love You, Monster: The Blindfolded Wife x The Masked Husband - Chapter 19: Step #09

Shen Mo transmigrates into the body of an outer disciple of the Qingxuan Sect, once the brightest among his peers. Just as he is on the cusp of entering the inner sect, his foundation is cruelly destroyed by poison. At his lowest point, Shen Mo discovers an extraordinary ability: the power to see and seize the fated opportunities of others.Are you a powerful reincarnation destined to acquire a Heavenly Tier technique? I'll take it!Are you the future Flame Emperor, refining the essence of the sun? That power is mine now!Are you a descendant of the Martial Ancestor with a Heavenly Tier spiritual weapon? Hand it over!Are you the sacred maiden of the Fox Clan, about to tame a sacred beast cub? Both the beast and your opportunities belong to me now!“My fate is in my hands, not others', for I am the CHAMPION OF DESTINY.”

Good news: someone found a sheepskin that emits text when picked up.Bad news: that person is not me.Good news: the old man downstairs can see the death countdown above people's heads.Bad news: the old man is about to die.Good news: the landlord's daughter has been reborn with memories of the future.Bad news: I am still clueless.As reality becomes more bizarre, the game's situation continues to evolve.The 'Seeking Demon' game service begins, and Fang Yu enters the game, only to discover that this game does not display health bars.Yet, he is able to see them!”Big Demon King: 1/21999.“”Let go of that demon, let me handle it!“”Sky Fang Tiger: 29481/29482.““Brothers, charge! Massive blow! Whoever gets a kill, it counts as theirs!”Fang Yu retreats while shouting loudly.

What is luck? Walk to pick up money? Buying a lottery ticket will win the jackpot?

Qin Yun picked up a copper coin and activated the wealth luck system.

“The balance has reached 10,000, and you can open a first-level fortune-gathering array every month. To open a second-level wealth-gathering array, you need a balance of 1 million…”

(The group has been established, group number: 614799090, interested book friends can join and discuss the plot together.)

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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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