You Boys Play Games Very Well - 58: Thank you to all the players in the game for their tolerance in not beating me to death for so long.

“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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One day, his soul hears a voice calling out to him.

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«Fuck off!»

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Author: Antihero protagonist who’s a scheming mastermind & doesn’t trust anyone. No Harem, Romance or Fan-service here. MC is an extremely smart & quick witted person who knows how to adapt to situations quickly. But he isn’t an Edgelord or a Psychopath who kills people for no reasons.

“Dane?” “Yeah, the bastard whose head I smashed with a fire extinguisher.” Grayson Miller, whose life goal is to meet his destined partner just like his Papa and Daddy who gave birth to him. However, even after dating countless people, he hasn’t found the right one. Desperate, he even sought out a renowned shaman, who told him that his destined partner was someone connected to ‘fire’ and has ‘big breasts’. Doubtful, but still pondering how to make the connection, he attends a pheromone party where a sudden fire breaks out. While toying with the omegas and spreading his pheromones left and right, he suddenly lost consciousness after having his pheromones controlled by a certain Extreme Omega. After waking up, Grayson realize that his destined partner might be working at the fire station, and with his father’s help, he gets a job there through connections. However, from the very first day, he gets into a physical fight with the firefighters who were keeping him in check, and among them, he also gets particularly entangled with that Dane Striker bastard…….