**Chapter 14
Cultivation Crashes, Bass Drops, and the Rise of Pickup Alex**
The Azure Mist Sect was a place of tradition.
Disciples practiced sword forms at dawn.
Elders brewed spiritual tea under moonlight.
Even the squirrels respected cultivation etiquette.
And then one day—just after lunch—it was all shattered. By bass.
**BOOM BOOM BOOM.**
Disciples dropped their qi-refining brushes. An alchemy cauldron imploded. One poor outer sect cultivator broke into spontaneous interpretive dance from the sheer vibration.
From the mountain pass, a cloud of dust rose—followed by an inexplicable **roar of a combustion engine**.
A *vehicle* crested the slope. Yes. An actual four-wheeled, diesel-guzzling, magic-defying **pickup truck**, painted jet-black with chrome rims, oversized tires, and a *massive glowing subwoofer* mounted in the back like a divine cannon.
Seated at the wheel, wearing spiritual sunglasses and blasting remixed hip-hop versions of ancient sutras, was—of course—**Alex Reed**.
And he was taking *selfies*.
> *System Notification:*
> *You have successfully purchased:*
> – 1 x "Heavenly Thunder V8 Pickup"
> – 1 x Portable Woofer of Nine Realms
> – 1 x SpiritTech Crystal Phone (Selfie Mode unlocked)
> *Total Cost: 94 Spirit Stones. Balance: 1 sad stone.*
Earlier that morning, Alex had pulled off a truly noble act: **he borrowed spirit stones from 34 outer sect disciples under the guise of a "sect-wide treasure map investment."**
(He drew the map himself. With crayons.)
Now, as he cruised through the sect grounds, playing a beat that fused demonic chanting with synth-pop, the reactions were… mixed.
* The **elders** choked on their tea.
* The **discipline hall** began polishing punishment sticks.
* The **female disciples** took reluctant glances over their shoulder, mouthing, *"Is he cool now?"*
* **Lotus Cloud Mistress**, sipping peach blossom wine from her balcony, didn't even flinch. She simply muttered, "Of course it's him," and kept watching.
Alex screeched to a stop in front of the main training hall. A crowd had gathered. Jin Mu was there, pale as a ghost.
"Alex," he said slowly, "what in the *Qi-forsaken heavens* is this?"
"My new ride," Alex beamed, hopping out and tossing him a branded spirit-tech brochure. "Name's the Thunder Wagon. Fully enchanted suspension. Plays music so loud it shakes meridians. And—check this—Bluetooth compatible."
"You're gonna get killed."
"Correction: I'm gonna get **noticed**."
He snapped a selfie in front of the stunned crowd, captioned it *"Cultivation drip just dropped."*, and posted it on SectNet (the extremely unofficial gossip talisman forum).
The post crashed the local talisman system. 300 reposts in two minutes. Comments included:
* *"Is that a mortal transport beast?!"*
* *"Where do I get one?"*
* *"Lotus Elder is watching. He's doomed."*
* *"I hate him. I love him. I'm confused."*
By evening, Alex was the most talked-about figure in the Azure Mist Sect. Not because of talent. Not because of destiny. But because he'd pulled up to morning drills in a bass-thumping pickup with neon underglow and a phone full of badly filtered selfies.
The System buzzed smugly:
> *You may not be the strongest… but you are absolutely the loudest.*
Alex sipped spirit cola from the cup holder, nodded solemnly, and whispered:
"Let the world cultivate silently. I'll cultivate *loudly*."
And as the moon rose, the sect echoed with one final bass drop:
**BOOM.
I got that Qi flow,
Rollin' in my truck slow,
Laughin' at your meridians
While I post my glow—HEY!**
The Demon God was building his legend.
One borrowed stone at a time.
And the sect would never know peace again.