With the ability to obtain a random item from the universe every day, I transformed into an Astartes recruit in the Warhammer universe who was about to be transformed and killed.

At the critical moment of gene seed implantation, I drew the dog talisman from "Jackie Chan Adventures" and gained eternal life.

I thought my immortality would allow me to walk freely in this dark universe, until I saw with my own eyes that a Chaos Demon devoured an entire company of Space Marines.

The Empire sees me as a heretic, Chaos sees me as prey, and the Mechanicus wants to dismantle me for research.

Today, my system gift is a lightsaber from Star Wars, valid for 23 hours and 59 minutes.

In the distance, the Inquisitor's black ship was slowly entering the starport.

"Well," I said, tightening my grip on the hilt, "let's see whose day it is."

[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!"

"I want to build a ninja village of my own!"

"I want to form my own pirate group!"

"I want to set up a magic school!"

The passionate discussion about the future of the few people in the corner did not affect Liu Haodong. He was now wondering, "Warhammer 40K? What kind of world is this? The identity of people like us is still 'tithe tax', taking people as taxes?"

The organization that receives these taxes from them is called "World Eaters".

Using people as taxes, what kind of world is this?

Fortunately, the reincarnation players in the same industry are all young people with ideals and ambitions.

They believe that as long as everyone works together, they will definitely have a bright future in the world of Warhammer 40K.

The few people in the corner agreed that "If you become rich and powerful, don't forget each other."

With the hope for a better future, they walked into the arena of the World Eaters...

andrix: Dante, please let me go. I'm not your father. Your father is still lying in the Stone Hall.

Dante: Impossible! Dad, you're finally back! The Blood Angels are back to you! I can finally retire!

Looking at Dante clinging to his thigh, Sandrix fell silent.

And looking at the group of youngsters around him, their eyes gleaming with gold, ready to recognize their father, and the four gods in the Warp ready to surprise him, he made a decision.

Sandrix: Dad! Please help! Send Guilliman back, or at least that's fine! (Holding his thigh)

Emperor: !!!

Being an Astartes isn't all about fighting and killing. To run a successful Chapter, one must also be worldly-wise and empathetic. Prejudices are as heavy as a mountain. Yet, the outside world's stereotypes about the Warhammer universe are always right. How can we build the Imperium of Mankind with these insects? We must build the Imperium of Mankind with these insects! From recruit to Chapter Master, a Space Marine will never admit to partial brain necrosis. Yet, from the Emperor to the Four Gods, the mighty powers of the Warp always want to make life easy for everyone. The holy God-Emperor once declared that he was not a god. Kaz Samar expressed complete indifference to the human gods' insistence on saying he wasn't a god. He kept saying, "Yes, yes, yes, I bow when I'm due, I kneel when I'm due." After centuries of hard work, Kaz finally became Chapter Master and was at his desk, writing his memoirs, attempting to record his eventful life for the Imperium. Then, a brash recruit barged into his room. "Chapter Master, promethium is half price in the next sector!" Alas, even the Imperium's demigods can't escape the chores of food, clothing, and daily necessities. He put down his personal memoirs and pulled out his chapter account book. Is there much in the bank? Not much.

A mortal was chosen by the Ultramarines and underwent nineteen genetic modifications to become a Space Marine. Since then, he and his team have faced the Tyranids, the Green Orcs, fought against the evil god Slaanesh, eliminated the rebels, and forged brotherhood and glory in the brutal war.

Nicholas, armed with the "Warhammer Museum System," embarks on a treasure hunt in the hellish galaxy! He explores ancient necromantic tombs in space, ventures into chaotic caverns, steals Blackrock artifacts, collects Imperial Relics, and battles orcs while also testing his luck against traitors.

His main job is collecting collectibles, and his side job is beating up all sorts of oddities in the galaxy. He uses his full collection of treasures to fight against the darkness, and his motto is "If you're not proactive in collecting treasures, there's something wrong with your thinking!"

Hey! What do you think of this Emperor collection?

Xie Yong, a poor wage earner, woke up from a sleep and found himself in prison, but this was not an ordinary prison... As for why it was different, he didn't understand, because he was just an Ogryn. Yes, it was the legal sub-human Ogryn designated by the Ministry of Military Affairs. At the same time, it was also a coin with a slightly larger denomination in the hands of the Emperor of Mankind. Although he was imprisoned, fortunately he still had a system in his head. He just wanted me, an Ogryn, to understand the system's prompts? ! Hahaha, why not let Tzeentch teach me to count to 9? What? I can really count to 9! Hey! System, this mission is over

"I'm not asking you to remain within the Cursed's stasis barrier forever. I'm not a demon. However, the Star Sea Punishment, the ultimate solution to the remnants of hundreds of thousands of years of the War in Heaven, is to kill all intelligent life and detonate the universe. What does that mean? What's wrong with your moral sense as an intelligent being? You just spent a year becoming Planet Master, didn't you? If you keep going like this, you'll be a sector leader in ten, galactic overlord in twenty, and dark matter collector in thirty. Finally, you'll build an etheric engine to exterminate all life in the universe. As reflections of all intelligent life in this galaxy, the five of us must stop you. Seriously." Leon: "What are you talking about? Etheric Engine activated! Blow this shithole to ash!" ————————————————————...