I, the strongest aristocrat in the country, is killed right after watching Shrek. But I do not die, but wake up in the body of a naked squishy. A pretty girl sits nearby, and a man in the corner goes through some tools... Stop, what? Thank you for not being in a push and without bald cats. But this is only half the trouble. I am constantly tormented by hunger, which can only be satisfied by aristocrats. Behind the soul - not a penny. In the lyceum - fuck you. Reputation - a downtrodden loser. Problems do not end! But at the same time... They are all solvable. After all, experience, temper and past forces are with me. And believe me, I do not intend to hide it.