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Worst Shinies

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 · 22.3K Views

Lord of the Steam

As the saying goes, "Hard times create strong men." It’s a phrase the Valorian nobles love to throw around, a shiny little motto they use to justify their oppression of the lower classes. Up there, near the sky, where the air is cleaner and the sun actually reaches, they live in their glittering towers, untouched by the rot that festers below. Down here, in the depths, it’s a different story. Rats gnaw on the corpses of those killed for a few dollars or maybe it was just a bar fight that went wrong, ending with one of the responsables with a bullet to the head. Who knows? Who cares? That’s just life at the lower levels. Brutal, ugly, and short. I’m one of the lucky ones, if you can call it that. Thanks to my aunt’s tireless efforts, I managed to claw my way into the Valorian Military Academy. Don’t let the fancy name fool you... it’s just a glorified cannon fodder factory. But hey, at least I get paid while I’m here, and that’s more than most lowlifes like me can say. Still, the question gnaws at me... Will I even live long enough to pay my aunt back for everything she’s done for me? Cadets like me are sent on patrols to "maintain order" in the lower districts, which is just a polite way of saying we’re thrown into the meat grinder. The mafias down here don’t care about uniforms or badges. They’ll kill you just for looking at them wrong. And today? Today’s my first time leading a small squad of cadets on patrol. We’ve been assigned to one of the "safest" areas in the lower districts... as if such a place even exists. The air is thick with the stench of decay, and the streets are lined with hollow-eyed faces that have seen too much and given up on hope. But that’s not even the worst part. No, the worst part is her.... This cheeto-headed girl!!
Shazorwy · 6.3K Views
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