MTL - Evolved From Polluting the World - Chapter 128 origin, finite, infinite

If you don’t know anything, you might think Blake had a perfect life. Good-looking face that made everyone turn their heads, an athletic physique, photographic memory and a good head that let him ace all of his exams, and also a kind heart to prop it all up.

But you couldn’t be more wrong as in a world where even a three-year-old kid could use mana, Blake was one of the unfortunate ones who couldn’t utilize the magical power that enabled humans to break past their limits and defeat the powerful demons that used nether instead of mana to cast their own demonic spells.

Looks of disdain, mockeries, and even straight-up bullying were not an uncommon occurrence for him as he had to deal with them every single day.

One day, the bullies went too far and almost killed him. The pent-up rage and hatred in his heart peaked up as he remembered the faces of his bullies that had beaten him half to death.

He thought he would finally die when his head was suddenly struck by a severe headache and his eyes went dark.

But never did he expect when he regained his consciousness he would find a pair of horns on his forehead, sharp claws on the tip of his fingers, and jet black skin covering his body from head to toe.

Follow Blake’s journey as he became the master of the nether and demonic spells, climbing the ranks of the demon realm as he gathered his own demon followers, and finding out the real truth veiled in his home world while creating legends for himself both in the demon world and in the world where he came from.

“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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“Why is this happening…?”

Mia Luna Tearmoon, Princess of the Tearmoon Empire, muttered to herself as she stood shackled on the execution platform.

The faces of the spectators surrounding her were, without exception, filled with indignation.

Before long, Mia was executed at the hands of the revolutionists, who were fed up with the heavy taxation.

But the next moment, she unexpectedly found herself lying on her bed.

It was eight years ago, when she was just a mere kid.

For a while, Mia even wondered if she was hallucinating. However, what appeared on her bedside table was a bloodstained diary that she had written herself.

That day, Mia’s screams could be heard echoing throughout the palace.

Mia was not a vicious person by nature. She was simply incapable of understanding the pain and hunger of others, and by the time she discovered it, it was already too late to do anything.

After she regressed back to her childhood, Mia struggled hard to trace back the events of the past with the help of her blood-stained diary and memories.

Was it to save the future of a declining empire?

Was it to save the soldiers who died in the civil war?

Was it to save the people from famine?

No, she had only one goal.

To avert her fate of facing the guillotine (execution)!

At the moment when he was about to be buried alive by the villagers, he blew himself up… no, he saved himself successfully.

He just wants to live and die in this era, but… that woman is too crazy.

…

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