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... wever, it doesn't matter. Since people are packaged, it is natural to make the best use of it. It also depends on how many of these people have problems. It is a matter of speculation. If these people are given a jail, they are not allowed to cross the regulations. One step is to allow you to contact other people at will. If you disobey, you will deal with it carefully. In the end, you can find the reason casually. So, you don’t believe it, you can make a moth.

After these people arrived, ...

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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.

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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.

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Reaching the door, exhaustion gripped me and I found myself gasping for breath. It was unbelievable – this body was so darn heavy.

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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.

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“We're here, young master.”

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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.

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“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.

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“What's going on, Dad?”

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“Your fiancee is coming tomorrow”

……………………………………………………………

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