Igor Pototov, a young man who personified the phrase "peak performance," stared blankly at the cracked ceiling of his Babushka's basement. Technically, it was his basement too, considering he'd spent more time there cultivating his boredom than venturing into the harsh light of adulthood. At 30, he sported the physique of a neglected houseplant – tall and sickly from the artificial glow of his computer screen.

His day, like most of his days, was a glorious tapestry of existential dread and internet escapism. He apatically dreamt of a future filled with a waifu straight out of a dating sim, magically transported to his dingy basement to fulfill his wildest NEET fantasies. This future, of course, involved minimal effort on his part. After all, as the self-proclaimed "MoePototo42" on various online forums, he firmly believed his destiny would find him, much like pizza delivery.

Suddenly, the rhythmic clack of his keyboard was interrupted by a resounding whack. His Babushka, a formidable Soviet style woman with a steely gaze and a vocabulary consisting mostly of variations on the word "useless," had connected with his head using her trusty walking cane.

"Igor! When are you going to bring a nice girl home? Look at you, all pale and skinny like a potato sprout!" she boomed then hit him with her cane.

Igor winced, the throbbing in his head a stark contrast to the usual emotional numbness. He mumbled a noncommittal reply, his eyes already darting back to the screen despite the new bump on the head. Little did he know, this seemingly mundane exchange would be the catalyst for a life far more bizarre than any anime plot.

As he scrolled through a particularly heated political discourse (whoever said NEETs weren't politically engaged?), a strange tingling sensation spread through him. It felt like a thousand tiny bees were buzzing inside his body, a sensation so odd that even Igor, a champion of apathy, couldn't ignore it.

Days turned into a week, and the buzzing persisted. Panic, a rare visitor in Igor's emotional wasteland, started to set in. He consulted his online haven – a forum dedicated to dissecting the finer points of niche conspiracy theories and obscure historical events. There, amongst discussions about the Illuminati using pigeons for surveillance and the secret reptilian society controlling governments, he found his answer.

"Qi," one particularly knowledgeable user explained. "You've awakened your Qi, dude. You're basically a cultivator now, straight outta those Xianxia novels you love."

A cultivator? The concept, once confined to the fantastical worlds of web novels, was suddenly a tangible reality. A spark of something akin to excitement flickered within Igor. Maybe this NEET life wasn't so bad after all. Maybe, just maybe, he could finally escape the clutches of poverty and Babushka's nagging.

Fueled by a newfound purpose (and the desperate hope of finally affording decent instant ramen), Igor would delved deeper into the world of online cultivation. He discovered a network of fellow NEETs, united by their social awkwardness, questionable hygiene habits, and a burning passion for all things fantastical. These were his people, his tribe.

One by one, through a series of hilariously nonsensical online interactions, Igor discovered he wasn't alone in his newfound abilities. There was TacosLover87 from the US, a purveyor of obscure taco knowledge and surprisingly potent fire magic. NekoKurcic29 from Serbia, whose cat ears (real or not, nobody dared to ask) seemed to enhance his perception skills. BasementalOrk99 from Russia, whose booming voice and questionable grasp of the English language somehow translated into earth-shattering stomps. NykolatheInvisible from Ukraine, whose invisibility (also unconfirmed) who for some reason would always peek fights with BasementalOrk's, leading to a never-ending online brawl.

Then there was ChinChin, a delicate flower (or perhaps a very convincing crossdresser) who somehow managed to bypass the Great Firewall of China with the help of strategically placed VPNs and a questionable grasp of internet etiquette. His arrival was usually heralded by a flurry of cat emojis and broken English declarations of love for everyone (much to Igor's discomfort and Babushka's suspicion).

The list went on. GayjiingSan, a gentle foreign soul from the Japanese countryside who cultivated the Japanese Soul (and questionable anime merchandise). ProudShutter, a prodigy from a small Indian village. TheRedeemer25, a self-proclaimed gift cards messiah from Canada.

And finally, there was BobVegeta37, another Indian lad who stumbled upon their online forum while looking for a dating group. Let's just say ChinChin's "love for all" approach back fired back like a rogue missile...

Anyway soon a Sect soon would be established. With a great or worts kind of inpact on humanity to be.