I Was Stuck on the Same Day For a 1000 Years - Chapter 289: Psychological Tactics

A fourth chance at life. The last chance.Zarek remembered when he first experienced the Godsfall Apocalypse. Those tears of red and sparkling rouge that split the skies, opening up one dangerous realm after another.That feeling of helplessness had been palpable, heavy... suffocating. It hung above his head like a guillotine, an edge graced by death's kiss...He grinned at it.One last ride, no Talents left on his stat screen, and nothing but a dull machete and his girl by his side. What was a better thrill than that?How could he possibly fail a fourth time?Unfortunately, there were others. Other Rebirthers. Some that might have been on their last attempt just like him, or some that still had more to give to this cruel world.None of it mattered, though. He had planned everything out meticulously, each life playing its own role.He would come out on top this time. How could he not?He was Zarek Ashborn.

Ruan Qiuqiu had transmigrated into a cannon fodder that had the same name as her in the novel, Sweet Pampering in Ancient Times: Demon King Husband, Please Spare Me

Right now, there were two paths before her:

Option 1: Continue playing the role of the supporting female character. After a few rounds of being faceslapped by the female lead, she would die tragically in the beast tide.

Option 2: For the sake of the tribe having enough salt, marry the wolf tribe’s former chief, a fierce wolf demon that was disfigured, crippled, and possibly had personality issues.

Ruan Qiuqiu chose the second option without hesitation. She rather go live a peaceful and ambitious-free life than compete with the female lead over some guy.

—

Due to a mishap, Mr. Big Bad Wolf, who had the blood of fiends in him, had become disfigured, crippled, and blind.

He was on the verge of death and his tribe had abandoned him. When he fell to the state of being so hungry that he was gnawing on ice…

The young bride, who his tribe had exchanged 300 catties of salt for, carefully walked to his side and covered his ugly damaged body with an animal hide.

She softly called him, “Husband?”

“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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