Life Simulator: Infinite in a World of Pain

Transmigrated into a sword and magic world as a noble young master. Good news: has a golden finger, a life simulator, where every time it ends, levels, talents, and bloodlines are all inherited. Bad news: body is drained. And there's even worse news: has a fiancée, 56 years old, who has outlived five husbands, built like an ox. System: First simulation, please draw a race— Victor: Give me an imperial prince, noble elf, or at least a dragon! System: Congratulations, you drew a brick worm. Victor: What... fine, I'll endure. So, he was a brick worm, playing dead in the underground world. Was a goblin, chased by adventurers for three blocks. Was a half-orc, finally stood up—then got one-shot by a passing archmage. Countless simulations, countless restarts. Levels, talents, bloodlines, all inherited. As strength grows, trouble follows. Those people from the simulations—elves, dragonborn, demi-humans—all appear in reality, coming to find him. System: Host, your romantic luck has arrived. Victor: You call this romantic luck? I feel like they're here to collect debts.