Dean's last memory was the slip. A slick, yellow traitor of a banana peel, gleaming under fluorescent mall lights. One misstep, a flailing tumble, and the laughter of a hundred strangers—amplified by a viral livestream titled "Banana Boy's Epic Fail." Death by humiliation, sealed with a crack of his skull on the tile floor. He'd thought that was rock bottom.
He was wrong.
A sharp pain jolted Dean awake, his face pressed into gritty dirt. The air reeked of sweat and iron, and a cacophony of jeers pounded his ears. He blinked, vision swimming, only to find himself sprawled in a dusty courtyard, surrounded by a crowd of robed figures. Their mocking faces were framed by ornate collars, their eyes glinting with cruel amusement. Above him loomed a mountain of a teenager, maybe eighteen, with biceps like boulders and a sneer that screamed trouble.
"Trash Young Master Dean!" the brute bellowed, cracking his knuckles. "You dare show your face at the Iron Claw Sect's training ground? Crawl back to your hut before I break you!"
Dean's mind reeled. Iron Claw Sect? Young Master? His body felt wrong—scrawny, aching, and definitely not his twenty-something office-worker self. He glanced down, seeing a lanky frame draped in a tattered blue robe. What the hell? His heart raced as fragments of a new reality slammed into place: he'd reincarnated into a cultivation world, straight out of the webnovels he'd binged on late-night breaks. And apparently, he was the local punching bag.
Before he could process further, a sultry, commanding voice exploded in his head, like a pop star turned drill sergeant. "Oh, honey, this is pathetic. Sprawled in the dirt like a squashed bug? Not on my watch. Get up, Dean, and flex."
Dean froze, nearly choking on dust. "Who—?"
"Vera, Queen of Swagger, your Ultimate Flex System," the voice purred, dripping with sass. "You're my masterpiece now, cupcake, and I don't sculpt losers. This meathead—Gao, by the way—is begging for a lesson. Quest activated: Humiliate Gao with Style. Reward: 50 Flex Points and a shiny Starfall Kick. Fail, and I'll make your life a living meme. Move!"
Dean's jaw dropped. A system? Like in those novels? And what was this flexing nonsense? He wasn't exactly a bodybuilder—or a show-off. But Gao's shadow loomed closer, and the crowd's laughter stung like a whip, echoing that livestream from his past life. Not again, Dean thought, fists clenching. He'd died a joke once. He wasn't about to let this world make him one again.
"Fine," he muttered, pushing himself to his feet. His legs wobbled, but he squared his shoulders, ignoring the ache in his ribs. The crowd's jeers faltered, surprised by the "Trash Young Master's" defiance. Gao snorted, flexing his arms, which rippled with Mortal Tier spirit energy—a faint red glow that screamed danger.
Vera's voice chimed, gleeful. "That's it, darling! Now, say something cool. Channel your inner action hero, or I'll pick your lines, and trust me, you won't like them."
Dean swallowed, praying he didn't sound as ridiculous as he felt. "Gao," he said, pointing a shaky finger, "your muscles are big, but your brain's so small, it's probably cultivating dust."
The crowd gasped, then burst into snickers. Gao's face reddened, his aura flaring brighter. "You insolent worm!" he roared, charging with a fist aimed at Dean's head.
"Vera, help!" Dean yelped, ducking on instinct.
"Don't whine, shine!" Vera snapped. "I'm unlocking Starfall Kick early—one-time use, 20 Flex Points. Make it count, or I'll dock your swagger for a week!"
Energy surged through Dean's legs, azure light crackling like bottled lightning. He didn't know what a Starfall Kick was, but the tingling in his feet felt like a promise. As Gao's fist swung, Dean leaped, spinning midair. His foot glowed, trailing stardust, and slammed into Gao's chest with a thunderous boom. The brute flew backward, crashing through a stack of training dummies, splinters raining like confetti.
The courtyard fell silent, then erupted into cheers. Dean landed, heart pounding, and instinctively struck a pose—hand on hip, other arm raised like a rockstar. The crowd roared louder, some shouting, "Trash Young Master's got moves!"
Vera cackled in his head. "Now that's a flex, baby! Quest complete: 50 Flex Points. Welcome to the Swagger Shop—spend wisely, or I'll make you wear sequins."
Dean's mind spun as a glowing interface appeared in his vision, listing rewards: Thunderclap Swagger Strike, Cloak of Infinite Charisma, stat buffs. He barely registered it, still reeling from the kick that shouldn't have been possible. Was that... me?
Before he could bask in the moment, a soft voice cut through the crowd. "Dean?" A girl stepped forward, her dark hair tied back, her green robes stained with dirt. Lian, his mind supplied—his sect sister, one of the few who didn't treat him like garbage. Her eyes widened, a mix of shock and worry. "How did you do that?"
Dean opened his mouth, but Vera interrupted. "Careful, cupcake. Don't spill my secrets. You've got bigger problems—look."
A shadow loomed at the courtyard's edge. A tall figure in black robes, his aura cold and oppressive, watched Dean with narrowed eyes. The crowd parted, whispering about "Young Master Kai," the sect's prodigy. His gaze burned with disdain, and Dean's stomach sank. That guy's trouble.
Vera's voice turned serious, a rare edge to her sass. "Oh, darling, you've caught a shark's attention. Kai's Spirit Tier, and he hates upstarts. New quest incoming: Impress the Sect in Three Days. Fail, and you're his punching bag. Ready to flex harder?"
Dean's heart raced. Three days to prove himself? Against that guy? He glanced at Lian, her worried eyes grounding him. He'd protect her, and anyone else who believed in him. But as Kai's aura pressed down, a chilling thought hit: What if I'm not enough?