The Forsaken-Grade Cultivator

It’s2100,andVincentCarter–Ying–isatwenty-year-oldvirginwithapenchantforprofanity,hehasbutthreeguidingprinciples:“Inaworldwherehonourandvalourseemlikeunaffordableluxuries,cowardiceremainsthepragmatist’sultimatevirtue.Spinelessnessisn’tshameful,it’ssimplyself-preservativeromance.”“Doubtisunironicallythecheapestsuperpowerapersoncanhave,afterallifit’shuman,it’sprobablyplottingsomething.Andifit’splottingsomething,it’sprobablyhidingsomething.Andifit’shidingsomething…well,yougettheidea.Soquestioneverything,onescepticalstepatatime.”Andlastly,“Muscleheads–becausewhoneedsbrainswhenyoucanjustflexyourwaythroughlife?Couldn’tbeme,I’lltellyouthatmuch.”Armedwithnothingbutthese…questionable(?)values,aswellasexperiencesshapedbyahellishlifeintheslums,YingdivesheadfirstintothelatestVRsensation–CultivationClimax,aworldbrimmingwithgreatmagic,ancientmysteries,andblood-curdlingconspiraciesjustwaitingtobeunravelled.However,becauseYing’slifeisjustthatkindofspecial,heisgreetedwitharather‘lovely’surpriseuponopeninghiseyestothenewworld…Ding![Yourmisfortuneistrulyastounding!][YouhaveawakenedtheabsoluteWORSTtalentforCultivation!]‘…’“…W-what?!”Yes,whatindeed.