Noah has transmigrated. Good news: He's a noble lord. Bad news: It's Warhammer. Good news: He has a cheat code. Bad news: It's from Chaos. Good news: It's from the Emperor. Emperor: Stop being a sissy, you, go save the world. Noah: I see the four gods as mere ornaments for sale! Wind Spirit Moon Shadow, open for me! Let me see your potential! —Anyone who dares to challenge me, I will end their life! Grallion's Treasure Bag One-Click Kill Rune is configured.

The time travelers from the Skuri clan carried unknown panels—perhaps creations of Tzeentch or Slaanesh? However, even if they were indeed their creations, the engineer Eski Ivo wouldn't relinquish them as long as there was profit to be made. His glorious rat life would begin with defeating Nagash and saving the world.

[My thinking power + Orcs + Time travel + Conquest + Joy + No female lead]

It starts with a green-skinned kid, and ends with him smashing through countless worlds.

What? Your unit is an angel? A dragon? A vampire?

Don't laugh at me for having only a little green kid. In a couple of weeks, you'll understand the meaning of "endless"!

A race born for war!!!

One green-skinned beast falls, ten thousand are born!

What faith can lead to godhood? What technological advancements? Nothing beats tens of thousands of green-skinned bastards believing that I am big and strong!

I think our lord is invincible!!!

I'm thinking a level 7 civilization could be created by hand!

Orcs were born to feed humans, and humans used a single punch to crush the heavens!

Vast, vast, vast, vast, vast, vast!

"Mao was both brutal and cunning!!!"

“WAAAAAAAAAAAGH!!!”

"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!!!"

Li Chui woke up to a deafening explosion, his first thought being that the trolls on the Warhammer forum were arguing in his head again last night.

Until he found himself lying on a smoking, scorched earth, the sky dyed a sickly purplish-red, a giant fortress collapsing in the distance, and a giant over two meters tall, wearing black and gold power armor, walking towards him, his chainsaw axe emitting a piercing roar.

"Holy crap," Li Chui blinked, his Qatari instincts kicking in as he rolled behind a boulder, "This cosplay is way too real!"

Zhang Yuan wakes up to find himself drenched in acid rain from the Warhammer 40K universe. Good news: he's been picked up by a grumbling, down-on-his-luck old merchant ronin who, in his drunken stupor, has changed the name of his family's "empire's strongest financial product"—the Merchant Ronin Agreement—to Zhang Yuan's! Bad news: the Orks are here, and the old man, to cover him, charges into the Orc horde with the "Last Laugh" pistol (the real "Last Laugh"), which has a 30% misfire rate. To save a little kid, Zhang Yuan swings a lightweight alloy door panel—as light as a takeout cooler lid—at the Orks. But to the Orks, it instantly transforms into a "giant sword radiating the holy light of the Second Brother!" The more the Orks fear him, the harder he swings, carving out the title of "Emperor's Chosen" and turning the hive into "Zhang Yuan's Pleasure House" with his worshippers. Until the new planetary governor, rubbing his hands together, packaged him and his two remaining disabled brothers as a "tithing special" and sent them to the Astronomical Army. Upon boarding, the female Inquisitor, who always assigned him "suicidal" missions, unexpectedly found his exposed trade agreement—it appeared to be stained with the Emperor's old nasal blood… no, the Holy Blood Seal! Now, the Inquisitor is frantically running to verify this "noble installment contract." If valid, Zhang Yuan, whom the governor had just thrown onto the battlefield like trash, might soon return to use the Longfellow family's interstellar treasury to buy the governor's golden toilet to use as a chamber pot. "If only I had stuffed in a couple more green toes when it was buy-one-get-two-free…"—a governor, slumped in the rain, was contemplating a cosmic-level financial blunder.

The story takes place in the 42k era, after the fall of Cartier and Guilliman's awakening. The protagonist's stats aren't high, but his abilities are conceptually advanced. He starts by healing the sick and saving lives at the bottom of the hive, then becomes a space firefighter. He's either in a chaotic melee or on his way to one. The quack doctor will use his miraculous healing skills to protect the Emperor's loyal subjects. If life is the Emperor's currency, then Ivers is the one who mints that currency.

Saving people is awesome! Fighting is awesome!

Bring salvation and loyalty to a distant and dark future!

(Warhammer 40k, search, attack, retreat, loot the gold, run and knife the rat, snipe the rat, hoard the rat.)

After the battle between the Imperial Planetary Defense Forces and the rebels, a large number of reports were scattered across the battlefield. Li Qinwu, who possessed the search, attack, and withdrawal system, began his own land grabbing business.

The laser gun of a fallen soldier? Take it, it fired level 3 ammo.

Shell armor? Take it! It's a level 4 armor.

Wow! The explosive pistol of the fallen political commissar! It fired level 5 rounds!

The destroyed Leman Rustamsk actually yielded a large gold tank battery!

Take them all back to the Underworld hideout! Sell them to various gang contacts to exchange for building materials and upgrade the hideout.

The hideout manufactures sophisticated machine guns and high-powered batteries. Wearing six sets of power armor, it launches a fierce attack on heretics on the battlefield, increases the Emperor's favorability, and ascends to the Golden Toilet!

That's right! It's Xiao He again! He's time-traveled again!

Bad news, the crossing point is Warhammer Katachon.

Good news, he awakened his Druid talent.

Bad news: he's being watched by all four peddlers.

Good news: He has a system and a jammer. The four peddlers and Old Man Huang can see his general location, but they can't pinpoint his exact location.

And so, completely unaware that he had spent five years surviving in the wilderness of Qatar, he unexpectedly took on the responsibility of a little kid who had fallen from the sky—the famous Conrad Coates! Yes! The very same Conrad Coates everyone was talking about! Batman~

This kid didn't go to Nasturm, but inexplicably ended up in Katachon. Who knows what the future Midnight Lord and he are...

In short, what fate awaits Coz?

Even Tzeentch couldn't understand fate, so who could?

"I still remember those thirty years, those thirty years..." "Alright, I've had enough." Looking at the hesitant expression on the bald, handsome man's face, Lin Qi, the Regent of the Third Reich, the Left Hand of the Wolf God, Eugene Guilliman Poe's best friend, Batman's certified savior of the Empire, the Queen who can summon ten thousand Glories with a wave of her hand, the fear of Abaddon, the person who respects Butcher's Nail the most in the world, sighed helplessly. "After we've dealt with the Four Gods, if the Emperor can't send me home, I'll make him do a pole dance in front of us."

[Farming + Warhammer Fantasy + War + Slow Pace]

The shadow of the end has loomed over the century-long countdown, and the chaotic torrent is about to breach the world's dams. Demons roar, tearing reality apart, nations crumble in the flames of war, and even the highest gods cannot escape their fate of demise.

Who can reverse this doomed fate?

"Humans? They're as fragile as paper, not a single one of them is worth a fight!"

"Pointy ears? All they do is fight amongst themselves and gossip, they're such useless sissies!"

"Short and timid? Hiding in holes like turtles, just a bunch of shut-ins getting moldy!"

A green-skinned orc with bared fangs spat, surveying the battlefield with disdain. Behind him stretched an endless mass of massive black orcs, their muscular bodies laden with spoils; there were night goblin fanatics wielding bone spikes, their crimson eyes burning with Waaaaagh flames; there was the Queen Spider, a mobile fortress, her eight legs sending debris flying wherever they stepped; there were the Great Techies carrying booming firearms, their strange devices crackling with electricity—even the legendary ancient space machine, supposedly floating in the clouds, hummed and followed behind the green-skinned army.

When the soul of the transmigrator collided with this green-skinned body born for war, and when the cold system interface met the green-skinned man's greatest "I think" technique, a wonderful chemical reaction erupted.

The orc suddenly raised his giant axe, its blade gleaming coldly in the sunlight, and a deafening roar echoed through the heavens and earth:

"I think—to save this wretched world, we still need our big green skins!"

"From this day forward, I am the savior!"

"Waaaaagh!"