Getting $10 Trillion Out Of Nowhere - Chapter 1148 - : Interrogating Temira

「Shimizu-san, you dyed your hair black.」「Ah, yes.」「Why did you dye it all of a sudden?」「Because…yesterday…」Shimizu-san, who sat next to me and had dyed her hair from blonde to black gradually lowered her voice, slightly blushed, and laid her face down on the desk.

Leguna. An orphan. His life changed dramatically the day the thieves’ guild happened to select him for training and development. He would go on to become lifelong friends with a loyal mercenary, the partner of a beautiful magus who was cold as ice, the savior of a mysterious disfigured dark-elf girl with a talent for the Breath, and the unlikely caregiver for a feisty young maiden. And yet, who would be with him to the very end?

“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?

I had finally done it—achieved the ultimate Paladin build. Maxed stats, impenetrable armor, and so many resistances that death itself had given up on me. I was an unkillable tank, an indomitable force. Nothing could stop me.And then my PC exploded.I died.Irony, thou art a cruel mistress.But instead of the afterlife, I woke up as my Paladin character… in the wrong freaking genre. Instead of castles and dungeons, there were people flying around on swords, shooting qi beams like fantasy laser guns.“This is definitely the wrong genre,” I muttered, watching a pompous young master sneer at me.“Kowtow, kiss my foot, and beg for forgiveness!” he declared.I looked at my imaginary maxed-out health bar, then at his flimsy silk robes.Oh, this was going to be fun.