FFF-Class Trashero - Chapter 42: O Hero! Please take care of my daugh… Kegh?!

The legendary tale of the Xyrin Empire is not about its struggles... or the tempest of another world or some cultivation myth. This is a super-serious, super-hard sci-fi novel about saving the world.Take what I’m saying seriously...Not.Okay, this is just a funny story about a deceptive human emperor, bringing his bunch of slippery alien leaders to have fun saving the world every day.Chen Jun is an unmotivated otaku who turns into the Emperor of an ancient intergalactic magic sci-fi empire. With the aura of a stay-at-home dad, he is nothing but a middle-aged man who adopts a group of lolis... and an army of freeloading aliens that came out of nowhere. Er, what?Ahem. Really though, this is a super-serious story... a super-mega-ultra-serious sci-fi story.For the Empire!

In a morgue filled with the bodies of Uchiha clan members, he opened his eyes...A mysterious voice echoed in his ears...With a bewildered expression, he muttered, “Save the Shinobi world? What does that have to do with me, a mere Uchiha survivor?”

Hazekaya was just an ordinary guy… until he woke up in another world. Sounds exciting, right? WRONG!Before he could even process his isekai moment, he found himself being chased by a horde of horny male orcs.From dodging unwanted “affections”, to getting thrown in jail, to accidentally sleeping in horse crap and earning just enough to not starve. Between dealing with an ex-adventurer boss, getting tricked by his so-called “friends,” and realizing even slimes are harder to kill than he thought, his life in this new world is anything but the overpowered adventure he dreamed of. Instead of becoming a hero, he’s stuck as a low-wage wall repairman, constantly broke, and now the locals call him “Shitman.”With zero cheat skills, no legendary weapons, and a severe lack of dignity, Hazekaya is left wondering—“Why is my isekai life like this!?”

The protracted ’witch hunting’ had faded into silence with the end of the Seven Years’ War, and the mysteries of the East Coast had begun to conceal themselves, yet gunpowder was on a rapid rise. Mo Qishang, who should have been utterly confounded, stood at the crossroads of destiny in the name of Arthur. He stared in astonishment at the charging knights, the wizards atop the high towers, and the bizarre wilderness. He felt the sharpness of the longsword and the recoil of the firearm, both clear and unfamiliar. At last, he excitedly shook his robe and, with a smile on his face, said— “Do not believe what I say, for to believe is to exist!”