MTL - Resurrection of Terror: My Eight Magical Skills Will Be Automatically Cultivated - Chapter 147

# handsome # shortcomingdefense # strong

After dying on a battlefield, she was reborn as orphan Lu Xiaocha. She was in a peaceful world with delicious food she had never seen before. There were no endless missions or killings, and everything was lovely in her eyes.

When a luxury car rolled up to the orphanage, she realized that the original owner of this body was not an orphan, but a daughter from a wealthy family.

Also, she had a superb father, a mother who was a peerless beauty, five older brothers, and an uncle. But… Why did their family name sound so familiar?

Then, she recalled reading a novel before she died. It seems that her family… were all villains!

Great! She had fallen into a villains’ nest! But… this nest was so nice. Lu Xiaocha would defend them even if they were bad! Heh! Someone wanted everything the Lu family had? They’d have to ask her fist first!

A random man came over and said, “Chacha, come with me.”

“Do you think I need to?” Lu Xiaocha shot back.

“The True Form Of Order is chaos, It is a tale as old as time itself!”Since Dungeons began appearing around the world, things have changed. The world has evolved, letting dungeons alter the genetics of humans, giving some of them abilities and powers that no ordinary person would have.These abilities were called magic, and the ability to use them or even control them was called having mana. Almost 80% of the world’s population has gotten this ability. When a person who awakens their magic is seen, he or she will be taken for evaluation. To see their strength, there were strong and dangerous warriors who had to be used to keep the dungeon at bay and make sure that nothing happened to the world.Amid all this chaos, Darius Winters, a typical loser trying to make sure he would make enough money to pay for his sister's treatment, joins a guild on a raid. When his life is changed, Darius gains a powerful system, and he can get stronger than he was; the system makes him potentially the strongest warrior in the city.But he chooses to hide from the spotlight and take care of his sister. But how long can he keep up with that? when he is thrown in the middle of a brewing war between divine beings

“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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