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Kenshi Auto Empty Armor Storage

FFF Class Auto Hero: The Weakest Class Turned Out To Be The Strongest?

"Oh Lord Lunareio, you are the only one who can save our world." ... My name is Rikuya Takatsuki, and I didn’t ask to be summoned to some fantasy world with my classmates. But there I was, expected to be a hero and protect the Kingdom from Realm Eaters, dimensional monsters chewing through reality. Apparently, all the races summoned forth heroes of legend, which was sort of a shocker to me since it wasn’t the cliché "slay the demon king" trope. Sounds cool, right? Wrong. While everyone else got flashy powers and legendary classes, I was slapped with the FFF Auto Hero class—no skills, no perks, and no respect. The kingdom handed me some pocket change and politely told me to scram. Fine by me. I was all set on enjoying the easy life in this new world anyways, when out of nowhere a bunch of cultists kidnapped me, claiming I’m their prophesied god or whatever. They gave me a mansion, unlimited snacks, and zero responsibilities, so of course, I played along. But then my so-called useless class kicked in. Turns out Auto Hero means my body hijacks itself whenever there’s danger, turning me into some kind of unstoppable killing machine. Efficient? Sure. Ethical? Not so much. Now everyone thinks I’m this terrifying cult leader who takes down monsters, corrupt kings, and anyone dumb enough to stand in my way. While my classmates enjoy their shiny hero lives, I’m here in the shadows, leading a cult, toppling kingdoms, and pretending I have some grand plan. The truth? I’m just winging it. I mean... what’s the worst that could happen?
Zurbluris · 51.8K Views

Plot Armor: Ordered a Burger, Got Burdened With Destiny

In the beginning, there was hunger. Not the hunger of gods nor the metaphorical yearning of the soul—no. Just regular, stomach-growling, “I skipped breakfast, and my fridge is empty” hunger. My name is unimportant (seriously, I forgot it after the third wormhole). I was an average nobody on a very average Earth, dreaming only of something greasy, cheesy, and ideally served with fries. But the universe? The universe had other plans. One wrong turn. One cursed Yelp review—one glowing burger shack in a back alley that should not have existed—and boom. I’m flung headfirst into a multiverse of chaos, chosen by a sentient deep-fryer to wield the power of the Forbidden Combo Meal. Now I’m: - Accidentally immortal - Casually vaporizing star systems when I sneeze - Being worshipped by a cult of toaster-wielding monks - Apparently prophesied to marry the Supreme Empress of the Fifth Reality (who is, yes, also a dragon) - Hunted by a multiversal HR department that claims I violated “narrative structure” - And somehow still broke because cosmic power doesn’t pay for snacks Every time I try to sit down and eat, something explodes. A timeline collapses. A villain monologues. Or worse—a new arc begins. I’ve defeated ancient evils using only napkins. I’ve talked eldritch horrors out of invading just by explaining taxes. I’ve become a god… six times. I got demoted. Twice. I have three theme songs, a fan club I didn’t authorize, and a sword that screams whenever I touch pickles. All I ever wanted… Was. A. Burger. --------------------------------------------------------------------------- Plot Armor is an unhinged, fourth-wall-shattering, genre-obliterating power fantasy where one man’s lunch break becomes a battle against logic, fate, and bad storytelling. Expect: - OP protagonist energy - Absurd comedy - Meta nonsense - Chaotic worldbuilding - And exactly zero chill. --------------------------------------------------------------------------- Reader discretion advised: contains reckless narrative pacing, emotionally confused magical girls, and at least one sentient sandwich with diplomatic immunity.
404PlotNotFound · 50 Views
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