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Chapter 1: Woke Up Broke but Destined for Trouble
Derek expected to wake up to the shrill beep of his alarm clock, tangled in sheets, regretting every late-night snack decision he had made. Instead, he woke up lying face-first on a cold stone floor, drool dripping into ancient cracks, while ominous chanting echoed around him.
He sat up, groggy, and froze.
He wasn't in his apartment. He was inside some kind of underground temple, the air thick with incense and ash. Gigantic stone pillars twisted toward a ceiling so high it vanished into darkness. Candles flickered, casting shadows that looked far too alive.
A dozen hooded figures stood in a circle around him, muttering in a language that sounded like someone gargling gravel. The floor beneath him glowed with runes that pulsed red.
"...Okay," Derek whispered to himself. "Either this is the weirdest hangover ever, or I've been sacrificed to Satan. Both are bad options."
One of the robed figures lowered his hood. His face was shriveled, like he'd been pickled for a century. His eyes glowed faintly yellow. "The vessel has arrived. At last, the prophecy begins."
"Prophecy?" Derek asked, raising a hand. "No thanks. Wrong guy. I'm more of a 'sleep until noon and eat cold pizza' kind of guy."
The cultists ignored him and raised their hands. The air trembled. The runes under Derek flared, and a golden panel of light appeared in front of him like some kind of RPG menu. Letters etched themselves across it:
[Awakened Being Detected]
Name: Derek
Realm: Mortal (Pathetic)
Potential: Undefined
Fate Alignment: Chaotic Ridiculousness
"...Excuse me?" Derek said, squinting at the last line. "Chaotic what now? That feels a little personal."
The cult leader's eyes widened. "Undefined potential? Chaotic fate? This… this is impossible."
A booming laugh shook the chamber. Shadows peeled away from the ceiling, and a massive horned head emerged from the void above. A demon's face, scarred and ancient, sneered down at Derek. Its voice was thunder and knives.
"So this is the vessel," the demon growled. "A fool in duck-pattern pajamas."
Derek looked down at himself, mortified. He was indeed still wearing pajamas decorated with cheerful little yellow ducks. "Hey! Pajamas are comfortable. Don't judge me, horn-face."
The demon paused. Then it laughed. Loud, echoing, cruel laughter that shook dust from the ceiling. "Hah! A mortal with tongue sharper than blade. Perhaps you will survive longer than the last fifty vessels."
Derek blinked. "Wait. Last fifty?"
The cult leader coughed nervously. "Yes. You are the fifty-first vessel. The others… uh… did not fare well."
"Well, that's encouraging," Derek muttered.
The glowing panel of light shifted again, revealing a long ladder-like chart.
Power Realms of the Archaic Path:
1. Mortal (where ants crawl)
2. Qi Condensation (Can at least use some Qi).
3.Foundation Establishment(Where Geniuses and monsters differ).
4.Core Formation (Well,you heard it).
5.Nascent soul(Create your Nascent soul)
Please Stop being An ant.
Derek whistled. "Wow. That's… a lot of homework. Which level comes with free dental?"
The demon snarled. "Mortal humor. How dare you mock the sacred path?"
But before it could unleash whatever infernal blast it was charging up, something strange happened. The runes under Derek cracked. The glow surged out of control, flaring like a broken neon sign. Sparks rained down.
"Wait—no, no!" the cultists shouted, backing away.
The demon's eyes widened. "Impossible! The vessel resists the seal?"
A thunderous boom echoed. The ritual circle exploded, hurling cultists across the chamber. Derek was left standing in the middle of a smoking crater, hair singed, pajama top charred at the edges, holding… a spoon?
He stared at it in disbelief. Somehow, the ritual had summoned a shining silver spoon into his hand, engraved with glowing runes.
The golden panel updated:
[Weapon Granted: Spoon of Eternal Mockery]
Can channel qi (for some reason).
Deals double damage if the enemy feels insulted.
Cannot be replaced. Too bad.
Derek blinked. Then he laughed. Hard. "Oh my god, I just got isekai'd into a world of demons, gods, and monsters… and my weapon is a spoon."
The demon roared in rage. The temple shook. "You dare mock me with your utensil?!"
"Buddy," Derek said, spinning the spoon like a dagger, "you're talking to the guy whose weapon is literally called the Spoon of Eternal Mockery. Mockery is kinda my thing."
And for the first time, the runes under his feet pulsed with him, not against him. Power surged into his veins, a spark of qi igniting.
The demon recoiled, eyes narrowing. "Interesting. Perhaps this one will not die so quickly."
Derek grinned, spoon glowing in his hand. "Oh, I'll die eventually. But until then? I'm gonna be a real pain in your ass."
The cultists scrambled to their knees, bowing. "All hail the Vessel! All hail the Foolish Hero!"
Derek rolled his eyes. "Foolish Hero? Really? That's my title?"
The panel of light flashed again.
[Title Unlocked: The Fool Who Defies Fate]
Charisma: Still 0.
Luck: Ridiculously high.
Destiny: Chaotic Ridiculousness continues.
Derek sighed. "Well, at least breakfast can wait. I guess I've got a demon to annoy."
And thus, the fifty-first vessel's story began—with pajamas, a spoon, and the worst introduction to a high-level world anyone could possibly imagine..