**Chapter 12
Cultivation Is Fake, but Wi-Fi Is Eternal**
Three days after his miracle-level glow-up, Alex Reed sat cross-legged in a patch of sunlight, eyes closed, spiritual aura faintly shimmering.
To the untrained observer, he looked like a serene, rising genius.
To the trained observer, he looked like someone trying really hard not to scream.
Why? Because after days of hyped-up system tutorials and glowing progress, he had just discovered that his so-called golden cheat system… was garbage.
"Okay," Alex muttered, pulling up the interface in his mind. "System, open cultivation guidance menu."
> *Welcome to Cultivation Helper v3.0!*
> *—Currently supported features—*
>
> * [x] Enlightened Snack Suggestions
> * [x] "Hot or Not" Aura Compatibility Scan
> * [x] Beginner's Yoga (Spirit Edition)
> * [x] Emergency Slap Evasion Training
> * [x] Discounted Inner Alchemy (Fake)
"…What the hell is 'Enlightened Snack Suggestions'?!"
> *You seem frustrated. Would you like a mood-improving snack from the System Shop?*
> *Today's recommendation: Bubble Tea, Taro Flavored – 2 Spirit Points.*
Alex blinked. "Wait. I can buy *that*? From you?"
> *Affirmative. The System Shop contains thousands of goods from your home world. Food, electronics, fashion, literature, illegal memes…*
"Hold on. You mean to tell me I've got a universal spiritual growth accelerator installed in my brain, and instead of teaching me how to form a golden core, you're offering me bubble tea and Bluetooth earbuds?!"
> *Correct. Would you like to bundle Taro Bubble Tea with a discounted LED gaming headset?*
Alex slumped over and groaned into the dirt.
The truth hit him like a spiritual frying pan to the face: the system had exactly one area of expertise—**shopping**. Everything else about cultivation? Complete and utter spiritual fluff.
He scrolled deeper.
> *"Lightning Palm: How to Zap Yourself in Five Easy Steps"*
> *"Qi Breathing for People Who Forget to Inhale"*
> *"Advanced Sword Intent: Just Swing Harder, Idiot"*
Every tutorial was either suspiciously vague, blatantly wrong, or written by a guy who definitely didn't survive past chapter five of his own cultivation story.
Alex shut it all down.
"Well then," he said, sitting up, brushing off dirt, and exhaling slowly, "I guess I'm on my own."
---
That afternoon, he walked to the back of the sect grounds where no one went—just him, a broken stone dummy, and a field of weeds shaped like broken dreams.
He cracked open the **Heaven-Walking Techniques: For Idiots With Potential** manual given to him by the Saintess. Unlike the System, it didn't play music or recommend potato chips.
It just started with a simple sentence:
> *"Step One: Stop being impressed by the words 'step one.'"*
Hours passed. His hands blistered. His qi sputtered. He fell over. Twice. A squirrel bit his toe.
But by sundown, he was sweating with real progress.
No flashy guidance. No spiritual GPS. Just grit. And a little guilt from spending 5 spirit points on a portable fan earlier.
The System chirped sulkily:
> *Observation: You seem more stable when you ignore me.*
> *Are you… breaking up with your System?*
"I'm not breaking up," Alex muttered. "I'm just not relying on a spiritually useless shopping app for metaphysical transcendence."
> *Rude.*
> *...Would you still like that bubble tea?*
He paused. "Yes. Extra ice."
As he sipped his drink under the twilight sky, Alex realized something important.
He had no genius bloodline. No ancient ancestor spirit whispering power-ups. No miracle pill dispenser.
But he had a half-broken manual, a stubborn streak, and a Saintess in his contacts list.
And honestly? With those—and maybe a foot massager from the shop—he'd probably be just fine.