The Royal's Cute Little Wife - Chapter 103 - Be Safe

Video game streamer Jing Yu, momentarily misstepped, and found himself in a strange professional gaming team.

Solo laner: Even if I have my eyes closed, asleep, dreaming, I can still kill you all!

Mid laner: Retreat? Not going to happen. Even if I only have one drop of blood left, I’m going to kill you all!

Marksman: Attack range advantage? I like to battle close-range! If you aren’t a coward then don’t run, let me kill you all!

Support: Support? As if! Wait until I switch to an AD build, then I’m going to kill you all!

Jing Yu: ……

Jing Yu: All of you, retreat! I’ll be the one to kill them!

- Description from Novelupdates

Can't a man maintain his dignity while preparing for the end of the world? Is that too much to ask?

The Tower was all I knew... all any of us knew, and just like that, it was gone. Monsters the likes of which I'd never seen ravaged the land of my ancestors. They burst through the outer walls and stormed the city. No one could have been ready for that. But now... Now I have a second chance.

After the collapse of the known world, I woke up to find myself on the First Floor of the Tower. I was young and healthy, 18 again, and sitting in the same classroom that marked the worst days of my life. Confused and excited, I accepted this gift, deciding to use my vast knowledge of the future to climb the Tower in preparation for the end of the world.

Maybe I'll help some folks along the way? Who knows. Survival comes first.

The clock is ticking, and I'm left with only a century to build a Deck powerful enough to survive the end. Things to do... What's first? I need Essence, and I need power. I'll have to climb the Tower to acquire both of these. Some of the zealots will try to stop me, need to look out for those. What if-

“Hey, kid! Hand over the pouch or-”

Stab

Sorry, where was I? Ah... there's a spot of blood on my suit. What a lousy morning.

In this world of blood and fantasy, century-old Rowan Wilder has to not only survive, but thrive as he powers his way to the top of the Tower. The Demonic Plague that has twisted the creatures on the upper Floors is the least of his worries. Cane in hand and Summons by his side, he'll have to tear his way through the monsters, as well as the humans who want to stop his ascent. Of course, he can maintain a sense of decorum while he faces these trials, right?

“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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