Day after the assassination attempts, my room.

People of Happyland kept me company throughout my recovery.

Laura showed off a demonic Qi cultivation technique she’d concocted. For a brief moment, the starved werewolf form of roiling scarlet and black mist lifted its arm off of her, and took a swipe, while she stayed still. With time, she hoped to be able to make the demonic wolf detach completely into what she called ‘Jojo Stand’.

Hellen, the nervous old dear that she was, hadn’t been idle either. She’d figured out a trick to make her demonic Qi defend her without conscious effort. Even with zero combat training or aptitude, the old woman dodged and ducked with bursts of supernatural skill.

Timothy’s development had nearly caught him up with Laura in terms of pure cultivation. In terms of technique, however, I had to admit he had the upper hand. The former psychopath was able to change his demonic Qi form, shifting his shape, even manifesting new limbs and weapons.

“As you can see, Mr. Chadman. We are quite capable ourselves,” Timothy stated, releasing his demonic form to fold arms over his chest.

Smiling, I nodded. “Great job. Words fail to express how glad I am to see you all where you are now.”

“Thank you, but that’s not why we’re here,” Laura interjected, glancing at her two fellows for an unspoken confirmation. She turned to me, eyes resolute. “Titan, can you please stop running after threats alone?”

“Y-y-you m-m-make us worry,” Hellen stuttered from the safety of a corner.

“Indeed. What is the point of you fostering our growth in strength if you make no use of it, Mr. Chadman? Need I remind you that they’ve taken over the entire Earth. Unless you truly intend to defeat every single cultivator single-handedly, we will need to fight sooner or later.”

“Yeah. We can help protect Happyland too.” Laura said, her voice as firm as steel.

Their hearts were set.

I was moved by their conviction, and contemplated my words deeply. Dao of Chadness told me that these three could be trusted, and thus I decided to include them in my plans for liberating Earth.

“I fight alone not only to protect you, but to accelerate my progress. For only in the crucible of hardships true Chadness can be forged. The risk on my life is not only expected and welcome, but a requirement. Big Dick energy by its nature is a force that favors the underdog. There is nothing ‘Big Dick’ about facing situations beneath your power. Thus, Dao of Chadness is a path, wherein practitioners must continue upwards on a meteoric rise, always facing greater odds, or cease to grow altogether.”

I paused, meeting the eyes of each three. “This does not apply to you. You follow a demonic cultivation path. You, and all the other humans of Earth, who come to adopt the Qi cultivation, can grow infinitely stronger with nothing but creativity, ingenuity, and time. And tell me, my friends, do humans of Earth lack creativity or ingenuity compared to these invaders?”

“No,” said Timothy.

“No.” I nodded. “We do not. And that is my hope to defeat the cultivators. I have faith that you three and those like you, who’ve taken cultivation, will eventually surpass the originals. And when the greatest minds of Earth start working, combining science and cultivation…”

I chuckled, shaking my head. “How can people who hoard secrets possibly stand against millions working together with modern scientific methods and sharing their discoveries over the internet?”

“They’ve no chance,” Laura whispered.

I smiled. “No. Not if we do it fast enough. Cultivators think in terms of centuries and millenniums. But they are no fools. They may realize something is off. We may not have the time to win.

“I am not a great mind, though I may borrow greatness through Big Brain energy. Nor am I on a traditional path of cultivation. The only way I can do my part to free Earth is to grow as fast as I can and shine bright enough to blind the invaders to our true plans, and make sure I last long enough.”

A moment of quiet. Timothy swallowed.

It needed not be said. Everyone understood the implications of my words. That I am merely a distraction.

I noticed it was 10:30 and chugged antibiotics from a bottle by my bed. After a glug of water, I continued, “If you are determined to help, and wish to maximize your impact, collaborate with others like Mr. Maxson and the doctors. Find more smart people. Combine what you know. Unravel the secrets of demonic Qi cultivation. Share everything you know anyway you can. Write blogs. Make videos. Answer comments. Hold face-to-face meetings.

“No war in modern history has been won through individual bravery and strength. Do your part as the seeds of tomorrow’s victory. And leave today’s battle to me.”

A new shade of determination filled them as the trio shuffled out, chatting excitedly the moment they left my room. I started doing some crunches to accelerate the healing of my abs. Four months was a tight timeframe, and I couldn’t afford a single extra day in sickbed.

***

Two days later, in the basement of an ‘ex firefighter’.

Doctor Edelfelt, in confidence, revealed Titan’s prognosis to the rest of the staff. Nelly overheard and spread it to Titan’s friends. Maxman Fightmaster, the junior bruh of Gigachad sect, was informed, as were some of the neighbours he’d helped and left an impression on. Word spread throughout the neighbourhood and surrounding streets.

A secret assembly was called. In attendance were Mr. Maxson, Doctor Edelfel, Tibby, Maxman Fightmaster, and neighbour Sergei Ivanov (who definitely isn’t a defected KGB agent pretending to be retired firefighter despite having the looks to murder a bear with).

Deep underground, in a lead-lined bunker, the ceiling light flickered. Mr. Maxson cleared his voice.

“Thank you for joining me tonight, friends, neighbours, and allies in our friendship to Titan.”

Murmurs and nods circled the table.

Mr. Maxson glanced at his notes. “Over the recent months, it’s become clear that our friend truly intends to go against these invaders, alone, going so far as to outright refuse help. Yes, he is strong, but this is outright unreasonable. Unreasonable, I say!”

People released their sighs and exasperation.

“And that is why we are here, to determine the best ways to aid Titan in healing, in rebuilding his ‘Gigachad sect’, and to provide him assistance in any way we can, even if he refuses it.”

Mr. Maxson turned to the spindly young man, who held himself with eerily familiar confidence and poise. “Mr. Fightmaster, correct me if I’m wrong, but it is fine for an ‘alpha cultivator’ to accept the support of his friends. Or does this hinder his growth somehow? I’m not too familiar with how this Big Dick energy functions.”

“I believe…” Mr. Fightmaster pondered, before giving Mr. Maxman a careful nod. “...it should be fine. There is nothing small pp about accepting heartfelt support and gratitude. In fact, the opposite is true. While— And please understand, I am not yet a true Chad, so take this with a truckload of salt. While Dao of Chadness, from what I gather, demands a certain level of self-reliance and strength, it is not in Chad’s nature to be alone, but with others. We can help him, as long as we don’t undermine his Chadness.”

“To summarize, any assistance that he is not aware of should be safe?” Mr. Maxman adjusted his glasses, staring at the young man.

Mr. Fightmaster nodded. “Yes. I think that would work.”

“Good. Very good. That gives us a foundation from which to form a plan of action. Now, first item on the list, Mr. Fightmaster, is there any way we can assist him in accelerating his cultivation, or Big Dick energy collection?”

“Big bruh is at Muscles-on-Muscles stage. He needs outrageous situations in which to practise his muscles, all of them. Eye-muscles, toes, ears, all of them. Preferably ones, where others witness his actions.”

Mr. Maxson released a sigh, but wrote it down. “Very well. Let’s brainstorm some ideas…”

***

Day of the first snow, a flooded river near Happyland.

Ice-cold water pressed against me, threatening to whisk me away. Metal, wood, and rock — chunks of debris battered my freshly healed muscles. I swam against the current, diving and jumping above the surface to dodge dangerously sharp bits of scrap.

A short roiling waterfall marked the spot where to dive. I filled my lungs and plunged into the dark underwater storm, pushing against forces of nature to unclog debris from a flood-pipe that was supposed to divert this flow elsewhere downstream.

It took an hour of diving to resolve the flooding river.

Once I finished, the gathered crowd of neighbours and repairmen thanked me. Big Dick energy flooded my muscles after the fresh exercise, giving me my best gains in weeks.

On my way home, another call came to me from the train station. Their tractor broke right after one of their cargo wagons had slipped off its rails. I used the opportunity to help a group of hardened trainyard workers pull the train back on tracks. Afterwards, I stayed to straighten some rails with my bare hands.

The day’s gains were almost as rapid as my first exercise session with Grog.

Oddly, I continued to come across perfect situations for cultivating my muscles.

A mysterious vandal had welded shut doors, which a group of beautiful women needed me to open. When their heels then broke all at once, I naturally offered to carry all six on my arm. While not straining, per se, the Big Dick energy generated by this act led to massive cultivation gains.

On another occasion, I had to strain my muscles and eyes to their maximum speed to save a crate of crystal-ware when a man happened to trip next to me.

I even had to use my ear muscles to heighten my hearing and find a little girl’s lost rabbit.

Strange happenstances added up.

My speed and power increased, continuing to grow past natural human limits. To speed things up, I added some extra protein powder in my protein powder, increasing the protein concentration of my Chad sports elixir to 150%.

With hard work, dedication, and seemingly blessed luck, I completed Muscles-on-Muscles stage in five weeks.

Life in Happyland continued getting better and better.

Dese Nuts and I became bruhs, when he and his sacred Chadtree joined Gigachad sect. I shared my techniques and advancement methods freely with my fellow bruhs. Dese Nuts’ journey across the Jaw Reformation stage began with nibbling concrete, eventually advancing to steel.

I also kept Maxman company while he did basic Alpha cultivation exercises. The man was now up to 8kg bicep curls, 30 kg bench press, and 40 kg squat. Impressive, considering his starting point.

Furthermore, his former neighbour, now girlfriend, was unknowingly giving him an extra boost of Big Dick energy, whenever she saw him exercise.

“Bruh, if I may ask, how come you aren’t dating anyone?” he asked once, after I’d finished a set of pull-ups with seven anchors of extra weight.

Dese Nuts squeaked curiously. Since arriving in Happyland, it had gathered a harem of eleven squirrel girls in its home tree.

“I don’t mind the question.” I unhooked the anchors from my hip and moved over Maxman to spot his bench presses. “Give me five. You can do it, bruh!”

After the reps, junior bruh stood up, wiping his sweat. “My guess was that you don’t want to put anyone in danger, bruh. GF said you might be looking for someone special to meet your standards. Is that it?”

“The women who’ve approached me are all wonderful individuals. Intriguing in their own way. It’s not about the danger either.”

“What is it bruh? You’re keeping me in suspense.”

I glanced at the second floor of Happyland, at a familiar figure wrestling with the demonic hounds. “This was before Happyland. Sixth head of the Gigachad sect dropped me off at a family the same Christmas he found me. A wholesome family with a dad, mom, and a daughter my age. They helped me get off the streets and to a school. The girl became my best friend. A blast of energy and happiness. Joy to be around.”

I glanced at the worn out H*-Man action figurine still resting on the mess-hall windowsill, undisturbed since the first day of Apocalypse.

“After a taste of Alpha cultivation, I thought myself strong enough and forgot all about becoming a true Chad.

“I was a young man. Hot-headed. Ladies man.

“Reckless.

“A bully.

“I flauntered my newfound strength. Made enemies. Thought myself indestructible.” My knuckles tightened into a fist. “But they weren’t.”

Nostalgic smile crept to my lips as I glanced up at my fellow bruhs. “She confessed to me that day, and I burst with joy. Best day of my life. My best friend forever and I were going to live every day smiling, I thought. I planned a great date for the night, pulling all the stops to ensure she’d remember my answer to her confession for the rest of our lives.

“But that evening, when she and her dad were walking home from her riding lessons, some kids I had messed with cornered them in an alley. I got a call from her as they chased her. She said they’d killed dad and were going to kill her.”

The rage from then had long since been abated. What remained was the memory of feeling blood on my fingers for the first time. The sound of bones snapping. The weight of a lifeless corpse.

“Me and a friend who liked to cosplay samurai got there before they got her, but it was all too much for her. I tried to heal her with Alpha cultivation, but made a mistake and ended up awakening a latent bloodline ability too powerful for her mind to control.”

I glanced at the freckled girl, who was now riding Batman and jousting against Grog (who rode both Bane and Tyson) with cardboard lances.

“She’s still in there, though, peeking through the blinds, reminding me that the woman I love still lives. One day she’ll wake up, and I’ll give her my answer.”

I took a deep breath, clapped, and grinned at my friends. “Now, my dear bruhs. How about I show you my favorite technique, the [Unlimited Abworks].”

Idly, I wondered what happened to my old pal Kevin Eugene. We’d fallen out of touch since me and Nelly got put into a mental institution, but I hoped he was doing well, wherever he was.

***

Elsewhere in the City.

Mountains of Mountain D*w bottles and D*ritos packages were illuminated by the RGB led-lights of an enviable computer tower, and similarly twinkling keyboard. A layer of sacred D*ritos dust covered the floor and furniture.

An incredibly tall man of large and noble bearing stood. His voluminous black neckbeard fluttered in the gentle breeze created by the fans of his desktop and crypto-coin mining setups. Wearing a dashingly stylish fedora blacker than midnight and a gallant leather treanchoat over his favorite waifu t-shirt, this noble knight of modern day began his daily meditation of the blade.

He unsheathed the katana, and cried out with effort.

“Hup!”

The blade sang against air.

“Haa!”

Motions of steel became a blur.

“Hya!”

And ended in perfect tranquility, the blade still as a silent ghost. It was good, but not enough.

When others had worked, this man had studied the blade. When the apocalypse happened, he’d studied the blade. Surrounded by his harem of waifu figurines. Nourished by sacred elixirs of fizzy sugary goodness and deep fried slices of mashed corn and preservatives, he’d constructed a body of a true gentleman. Nay, gentlelord.

Like others before him, he expected to gain nothing of this path of pure self actualization. But, whether by pure chance, or due to his earlier contact with similar forces, his efforts touched something.

A concept.

A path.

A divine truth.

A cosmic constant.

A Dao.

Dao of Neckbeardedness.

Thus he became the first and first became him. As Neckbeardman emerged from his temple of solitude after a year long meditation without showers or human contact, and stepped onto the balcony of his flat, he was only moderately surprised that the apocalypse he’d read about online had been true.

What did surprise him was the sight of a gunman stalking a stunningly beautiful oriental m’lady, in middle of the apartment block courtyard.

“Fuck you fucking cultivator motherfucker!” The gunman pulled his trigger.

Or would have, had Neckbeardman not leapt from the third floor and crushed the man under his sheer mass.

“Good morning M’lady,” Neckbeardman tipped his fedora, granting the m’lady a politely flirtatious smile. “They call me DarkArtsMasterKevin, or Neckbeardman69. Might I inquire about m’lady’s name?”

She glared at him, allowing Neckbeardman to soak in her animu-like beauty. Fierce tsundere eyebrows, silky black hair, and pale skin. Garbed in her raven feathers, she had the presence of a dark angel.

“This one goes by Silent Feather, thirteenth heir to the Humming Blade sect, and the governess of this City. Your act of gallantry was unnecessary, and unwelcome.”

Neckbeardman tipped his fedora. “Forgive me m’lady. I saw a beauty in danger and couldn’t help myself, for it goes against my Way.”

“Hmph, suppose this can be forgiven.” Slightest blush touched her icy cheeks, though her haughtiness remained unbroken. “If you beg for forgiveness.”

With a beautiful flourish, Neckbeardman took off his hat and bowed. “Oh beautiful m’lady, forgive this gentleman for his transgressions, for his true crime was one of uncontrolled passion taking over and filling him with desire to serve a beautiful m’lady.”

She gawked, utterly befuddled. “I… That… V-very well. This shall be allowed. Tell me Dark Arts Master Kevin of Neckbeardman sixty-nine. If you were to be offered an opportunity to join a sect, would you take it?”

“Only if it allowed me to serve beautiful m’ladies,” answered Neckbeardman, casually taking Silent Feather’s hand to land a kiss on the back of it.

As expected, she was smitten by his gentlemanlery, and invited him to join her sect. Neckbeardman accepted gladly, but knew he had to be careful. If he wasn’t careful, his gentlemanship might attract more cultivator waifus than he knew how to handle.