A_literal_Sunfish

It’s 2100, and Vincent Carter – Ying – is a twenty-year-old virgin with a penchant for profanity, he has but three guiding principles:

“In a world where honour and valour seem like unaffordable luxuries, cowardice remains the pragmatist’s ultimate virtue. Spinelessness isn’t shameful, it’s simply self-preservative romance.”

“Doubt is unironically the cheapest superpower a person can have, after all if it’s human, it’s probably plotting something. And if it’s plotting something, it’s probably hiding something. And if it’s hiding something… well, you get the idea. So question everything, one sceptical step at a time.”

And lastly,

“Muscle heads – because who needs brains when you can just flex your way through life? Couldn’t be me, I’ll tell you that much.”

Armed with nothing but these… questionable (?) values, as well as experiences shaped by a hellish life in the slums, Ying dives headfirst into the latest VR sensation – Cultivation Climax, a world brimming with great magic, ancient mysteries, and blood-curdling conspiracies just waiting to be unravelled.

 However, because Ying’s life is just that kind of special, he is greeted with a rather ‘lovely’ surprise upon opening his eyes to the new world…

Ding!

[Your misfortune is truly astounding!]

[You have awakened the absolute WORST talent for Cultivation!]

‘…’

“…W-what?!”

Yes, what indeed.



https://www.royalroad.com/profile/633482/fictions. I'm the author.

The Forsaken-Grade Cultivator

'Finally, I was wondering if you'd eventually catch on... But I must say, I'm somewhat offended. Is that any way to express your gratitude?' The strange entity chimed from within, it's tone insufferably haughty, and cheery… Ying hated it. He was enraged!

It was game, yes, but that didn't make the situation any less disgusting. For a span of time, his virtual body had belonged to another who was not himself, it felt like he'd been violated!

'Bastard! Who are you... What are you...and why are you in my head?!' Ying hissed in a rage. His head lowered – such that his dark hair could cast a shadow on his face – his fists clenched as he bit his lip. The annoyance flowed like an uncontrollable flood.

So much so that he didn't even seem to care about his initial reservations.

Who cared if he was disrespecting an ancient creature of horrors?

You are me