Rebirth to a Military Marriage: Good Morning Chief - Chapter 2494: A Child’s Happiness (1)

“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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In the midst of a mall parking lot turned battleground, Korig stands with a crowbar in his hands, blood-stained and bewildered.

Chaos reigns as the world crumbles into a nightmare of undead horrors.

Amid the panic, a digital screen materializes, thrusting Korig into a twisted game of survival.

“Main Objective: Survive the Zombie Apocalypse for an hour.”

“Bonus quest: Kill 100 zombies.”

The countdown begins, and Korig must navigate the terror around him, battling both the flesh-hungry undead and the enigmatic rules of a malevolent system.

As time slips away, Korig's past and present collide, revealing secrets that could be the key to his survival.

Will he conquer the unholy countdown, or become another victim in this relentless System Mania?

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She leaned down to look inside the well and sighed. Tucking back her hair behind her ear as the evening wind blew.

“I told you not to be a curious cat,“ she scolded looking at the well to receive a small “meow“ from it. Her cat had stepped on the edge of the well no matter how many times she placed it back on the ground and as expected it fell inside it,

“You know what I“m goin...

I struggled until I was thirty-eight and couldn’t afford a house. I had to pay a gift of three hundred thousand in advance to get married. I lived frugally and frugally for most of my life until my liver was broken. But where was the money? Who made the money?

Jiang Qin, who harbored countless grievances, was reborn at the age of eighteen. The only thought he had when he opened his eyes was to start a business and make money.

The first step is to snatch back the love letter you sent, turn it over, and write three lines in the school belle’s astonished eyes:

You can’t work for anything, and you can stay with a rich woman if you can.

You can make more money if you lose it, but you can make more money if you lose your conscience!

Social animals, never slaves!

As for love? Dogs don’t even talk about that stuff!

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