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Fen's booming voice rang out, freezing me mid-step. I had been on my way to sweet-talk the merchant into parting with more resources, when I saw them: a parade of angry faces from our tribe—ogres, goblins, lizardmen, kobolds, imps, and even Boulder, whose bulk made him impossible to miss.

Fuck. I forgot about Boulder!

"H-Hi, Fen! You're back early!" I blurted, plastering on the most innocent smile I could muster.

Fen wasn ...

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When the pure lotus provoked her, she slapped her instantly, “It's just a pair of worn-out shoes. If you want them so desperately, take them and wear them.”President Jones intruded with a cheeky face, “Wife, even if they're worn-out shoes, I'd only let you wear them.”“Scram!”...【One man, one woman】Four years ago, she left in fury with the bun in her oven. Four years later—“Uncle, I noticed that your face has a gloomy look, it looks like you have excessive liver heat. It's obvious you lack a wife. Do you want to get to know my mommy?”The president who remained aloof from women looking at his mini-me, his eyes deepened. He immediately packed up the mother and child, and brought them back home, pampered them to the point of annoying everyone.Someone asked, “President Jones, isn't this a bit too unreasonable?”The president smirked coldly, “You expect me to be reasonable when pleasing my wife?”This is a story about an overbearing President Jones, who's fiercely dominant, and unreasonable in pampering his wife.

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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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[WARNING: MATURE CONTENT 18+. No rape. No NTR. No Yuri]WebNovel Spirity Awards 2025 EntryPlease note that any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, real world events, or locales is purely coincidental and unintentional. The characters, places, and incidents portrayed in this work of fiction are products of the author's imagination.