She fit right in with Nelly’s gang, even if they couldn’t all understand each other’s language yet.
That tough-girl facade crumbled to sobs and tears the moment the other cultivators of the Harbor of Stars came to bid us goodbye at the desert-side docks.
Part of me wanted to knock those who stayed unconscious and drag them with us to save them, but another part of me understood. They had sworn to protect the Harbor of Stars and the people within. Oaths such as theirs are the kind that could not be easily broken without breaking yourself.
Armstrong didn’t exchange any farewells with the cultivator women, though a few of them did cast nostalgic looks his way, still longing for the Alphahole who had possessed him.
Once Tu Tor was tear-stained and her eyes puffier than goldfish’s lips, we departed on a bus-sized undersand submarine.
The journey back home was as relaxing as the trip away had been.
Nelly and I treated it as a bit of a personal vacation, since neither of us ever really got to travel back on Earth thanks to being deemed criminally insane. Those were amazing days. One night in particular, one that passed at an oasis which we shared with a herd of oddly well dressed elephants, was a night that took me out of the world of reality-spanning cultivation conspiracies and into a simpler one, where my greatest worry was catching my lover after she splashed water on me.
Great Big Dick energy and zero regrets were had that night.
The good old brutally blocky silhouette of Happyland Asylum came back in view some six days after our departure from the Harbor of Stars. A pleasant surprise waited for us there.
“Mr. Maxson!” I shouted the moment I laid my eyes on the mousy old man standing next to Dr. Edelfelt. “You’re you again?”
“If by that you mean that I am once more at full command of my mental faculties, then yes. All thanks to Dr. Edelfelt’s latest…” He took a step back I approached with my arms wide. “...latest discoveries. There is no need for such displays, Mr. Chadman, I assure you, I can feel your sentiment all the way to—” but I caught him in it anyway and gave the old man a squeeze. “Urgh.”
“Damn. So glad to have you back, Mr. Maxson.”
“Indeed,” he gasped. “A truly joyous occasion, though I am beginning to lose consciousness again, Mr. Chadman.”
I let him down, laughing.
Nelly and Laura tackled him next.
“The cure to Echo condition turned out to be remarkably similar to our treatment of This One Syndrome,” Dr. Edelfelt explained, while helping us unpack various goodies we’d picked up on the way. “So much so in fact that I hypothesize that almost all of the cultivators occupying Earth are suffering from a low-grade Echo condition. Further testing is required to confirm if I’m drawing correlations where there is none, but I am over 70% certain there’s a link. Unfortunately, the language barrier prevents me from performing tests on any of the jungle villagers, or any of the afflicted locals.”
“They must’ve been exposed during the voyage through the Realm of Dao,” Armstrong replied. “Qi cultivators struggle creating protections against it. Part of it was most likely intentional. Cultivators behaving like cliche cultivators are much easier to control than cultivators prone to human emotions. Doesn’t make any of them less innocent, but it sure does make it easier for them to do what they do.”
“Could you mass produce the treatment?” I asked.
Dr. Edelfelt frowned, shaking her head. “As much as I would love to answer otherwise, I’m afraid not. Demonic-Qi Psychotherapy requires slight variations between patients, not to mention requires the active participation of a doctor. I can make the technique available to the general public and do my best in spreading it, but it will take years until we have enough properly trained psychologists to begin healing cultivators occupying our country alone, nevermind the billions of echoes they left behind in this world.”
A shame, but it made our return to Earth all the more urgent.
That same evening, after I’d explained the plan, we began preparations to turn Happyland into a vessel capable of traversing the Realm of Dao.
The non-cultivators among us assisted by organizing loose items into more stable storages, by bolting down furniture, and by making safety harnesses and railings. We didn’t know what to expect during prolonged journeys through the Realm of Dao, but some turbulence was apparently all but guaranteed.
Mr. Maxson, Maxman, and several patients took charge of reinforcing the windows, doors, and key structures with Qi-reinforced alloys. One of the formerly insane elderly had been a welder back in the day, and learned to produce an equivalent of a propane torch with his demonic-Qi.
Tu Tor helped establish reinforcing formations all across the building, as well as complete our plumbing with some water-conjuring formations. Finally, we had enough water to wash off the lingering stench of sweat and ass cracks that had haunted us since arrival.
Nelly meanwhile was trusted with securing the foundation. She sprinkled various jungle plants around Happyland’s outer perimeter, and poured them full of primordial Qi. Wilderness bloomed to form a second taller barrier around the brick and concrete wall that surrounded Happyland. Over several days, the roots of her plants dug deep beneath the plumbing, raising the building and its walled courtyard onto an enormous sled of knotted roots. Grog, the dogs, and Dese Nuts helped the Nelly spot some accidentally awakened carnivorous plants before anyone got chomped.
Surprisingly, I was done with my own bit way before the others finished their respective tasks.
The Crown I attached atop Happyland’s roof and the Blade above its entrance. Combined with the two slanted eyebrows someone (I suspect Nelly) drew on the windows above the entrance, Happyland’s front took on the resemblance of a very dopey Blade-nosed Pinocchio with a slightly too small crown. It was cute.
My main contribution, however, was a joint project with Armstrong. As I carved solid rock with my fingers, he gave tips on improving the [Protective Chad Formation].
“Leave the surface as rough as you can,” Armstrong said, tracing his palm over the stone I’d smoothed. “The skin of a Chad is rough and imperfect. Don’t be afraid to leave defects in the statues. Those little faults are what give us our personality and the same goes for the statues.”
“Wise words. Why hadn’t I thought of that?” I scrapped my current work in progress, picked up a four ton boulder, and began carving.
“Once you are far enough on your path of Alpha Cultivation, it’s easy to accidentally do things too perfectly. Give that statue a mustache.”
“A mustache?”
“Chads are always improved by being surrounded by other Chads. The same applies to the statues in a [Protective Chad Formation]. Make each statue a unique specimen in manliness. Give their appearances flaws and personality. Imbue their poses with the protective Chad postures. Do this and the resulting protective formation will be multiple times more powerful.”
“Alright. Mustache huh? I’ll go with the handlebar first. And the guy after this one will get a frilly beard.”
Challenging myself with new carving techniques was fun. Once finished, the 21 statues, each adorned by increasingly ridiculous hairdos and facial hairs, were secured at strategic locations throughout the compound. Once in place, their eyes began to glow with golden strands of Big Dick energy. They felt almost alive.
And the barrier they projected surprised even myself. It was strong enough to withstand a hit from one of the rocket launchers Tibby had brought with. Heck, not even Grog could make a dent in it.
Tu Tor estimated the barrier to be just at the edge of the saint realm. Combined with the Crown, it made Dao Storms feel like warm summer breezes. It would protect us from the Realm of Dao.
All that was left was to wait for others and bulk up my Chad Core with enough Big Dick energy for me to shove us back to Earth.
To this day, I am genuinely miffed at how easy it was.
Big Dick energy is notoriously difficult to gather. Yet somehow, like back on Earth, I kept running into mysteriously convenient scenarios where I could exercise my Chadness without flaunting it.
Metal doors kept getting jammed near me. Random items kept falling off the shelves for me to catch in the kitchen. People kept tripping on their toes. It seemed wherever I was, a Chad was needed.
By the way he chuckled, I was certain Armstrong had something to do with it, but he assured me all he did was observe friendship in action. A strange choice of words. I chose not to investigate the mystery with Big Brain ideas. Afterall, Big Dick energy is Big Dick energy. You don’t question it. You accept it.
Still, despite all the convenient happenstances and me cultivating gym-techniques with all of my bruhs, it took five days for my Chad Core to fill up, and another four for it to get to the point where I could contain no more. I couldn’t even give Nelly’s butt a random compliment without feeling like my insides might explode.
My entire body glowed faintly in the dark. Wisps of golden steam rose off my muscles.
“Armstrong, I don’t feel so good.”
“That’s normal, son. You’re experiencing Big Dick overdose, not to be confused with overdosing on big dick. That’s more of a butthole feeling, or so I've heard.” Was the ghost of Alphahole back? My vision swam with Chads doing infinite reps everywhere around us, inviting me to spot them.
“Armstrong…”
He laughed. “Don’t do anything Chadly. Don’t even think about it. Your Chad Core is at the point where it could evolve if you act too Chadly, and then all that energy will go into your advancement. Just hold it in, son. I’m gonna go spread the news.”
I remained frozen in place at our outdoor gym, while the old man jogged inside to spread the news.
Go time came two days later, when the Dao Storm washed over Happyland like the insane brother of aurora borealis.
I alone stood outside the barrier.
Even without protective techniques, the sheer mass of Big Dick energy within me shielded me from the Dao Storm’s warping influence. Zaps and cracks that could rewrite reality were reduced to pleasant tickles on my skin.
I drew a deep breath, took hold of the roots of the sled Nelly had created under Happyland, dug my slippers into the stone beneath me, and leaned forward to push my center of gravity against the massive sled.
Exhaling, I drew from the well of Big Dick energy around my core and let it flood my limbs and back. Muscles on my muscles groaned as they tensed and flexed. Joints in my spine cracked one by one as the seemingly impossible weight of a building and a courtyard settled upon them.
No. Not impossible.
I am an Alpha Cultivator, head of the Gigachad sect. Of course I can move my home if I wish.
My Big Brain overclocked every nerve in my body as I pushed and took the first step of [This Is A Road Now]-focusing all of my available Big Dick energy into believing. Nay, knowing that the Realm of Dao before me was not only a road, but the road that would take me home.
With a deep chafing of dirt and rock, the sled budged.
I took another step and pushed it off the cliff and straight into the chaotic world of fractals that was the Realm of Dao.
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Armstrong, I don’t feel so good.”
I understood that reference