Ascended by Accident: My Luck is a Joke

Chapter 3

The purple demon roared again, a sound like a freight train colliding with a thunderstorm. The sky over the Cloud-Step Sect was bruising into a deep, sickly indigo.

"Ancestor!" Elder Feng screamed over the wind, his beard whipping around his face like a frantic white eel. "The Thousand-Soul Devourer has breached the second perimeter! We need the Dragon’s Breath! We need the Void’s Silence! We need... anything!"

Dimas, still staring at the neon-blue 'Customer Support' window only he could see, felt a drop of sweat roll down his spine. "I need... I need a minute, Feng! A very holy, very private minute! Where is the nearest meditation chamber? Or a closet? Or a particularly sturdy bush?"

Mei Lin stepped toward him, her sword humming a low, vibrating note of impatience. "The enemy is at the gate, and you want to hide?"

"I’m not hiding, Mei! I’m... gathering my Chi! It’s very temperamental!" Dimas shouted, backpedaling toward the nearest set of ornate doors. "It’s like a cat! You can’t force it! I’ll be out in five! Don't let anyone get eaten until I'm back!"

Without waiting for an answer, Dimas dived through the doors, slammed them shut, and threw the heavy iron bolt. He found himself in what appeared to be a lavishly decorated washroom—complete with a jade basin and a toilet that looked far too expensive for its primary purpose.

"Okay, okay," Dimas gasped, turning to the floating blue screen. "Listen to me, you stupid floating iPad! I am currently being hunted by a purple smoke monster. My 'Great Ancestor' status is a lie. My pajamas are from a night market. I need a cheat code. Now!"

[Connecting to an Agent...]

[Estimated Wait Time: 3,999 Years, 11 Months, 29 Days.]

"I don't have four thousand years!" Dimas yelled at the basin. "I have four minutes! If I die, who’s going to pay for this premium afterlife service? I’ll leave a one-star review! I’ll tell everyone the Celestial Realm has terrible WiFi!"

The screen flickered. A static-filled voice echoed in his mind, sounding suspiciously like a bored receptionist.

[...Fine. Due to the 'Extremely Low Survival Probability' of your current situation, we have bypassed the queue. Welcome to the 'Luck-Based Comedy' engine, User Dimas.]

"The what? Comedy? I want the 'Sword of a Billion Stars'!"

[Error: System Balance would be disrupted. You have zero cultivation talent. However, your 'Cringe Factor' is at an all-time high. The System has converted your embarrassment into a currency: Soul-Shaming Points.]

"Soul-Shaming Points?" Dimas blinked. "Is the universe literally bullying me into being a hero?"

[Exactly. To activate the 'Beginner’s Luck Shield' and repel the demonic army, you must perform a high-level ritual to distract the heavens from your fraudulence.]

"Okay, fine! What’s the ritual? Some ancient chant? A blood sacrifice?"

[Requirement: Perform the 'Seven-Step Hype-Dance of the Eternal Idol.']

Dimas froze. "The what?"

[Instructions: See visual aid.]

The screen changed. A stick figure began to perform a series of movements that looked suspiciously like a mix of the 'Macarena,' the 'Floss,' and a particularly aggressive K-Pop chorus.

"You’ve got to be kidding me," Dimas whispered. "You want me to do the Floss? In front of a legendary sword-maiden and a thousand disciples? I’d rather the demon eat me. Truly."

[The Thousand-Soul Devourer is currently 400 meters from your location. Estimated time to 'Soul Devouring': 120 seconds.]

"God, I hate this world!" Dimas screamed. He looked at the jade mirror. He looked at the golden dragon on his chest. "Fine! If I’m going to die, I’m going to die looking like an idiot!"

He took a deep breath, centered himself, and began. He swung his hips. He threw his arms left and right. He attempted a body roll that looked more like a man having a seizure.

[CRINGE DETECTED. SOUL-SHAMING POINTS: +50]

[ENERGY OUTPUT: INCREASING]

Outside the door, Mei Lin Tan stood with her ear pressed against the wood. Her hand was white-knuckled on her sword hilt.

"Elder Feng," she whispered, her voice trembling. "Do you hear that?"

Feng leaned in, his eyes wide. From inside the washroom, a strange, rhythmic thumping was echoing. Thump. Slide. Thump-thump. Slide.

"It is... rhythmic," Feng whispered in awe. "Like the heartbeat of the world itself! The Ancestor is performing the Forbidden Heart-Stomp Ritual!"

"It sounds like he’s... slapping his own thighs," Mei Lin noted, her brow furrowing. "And is he... is he humming? It sounds like a battle cry, but the lyrics are... 'Ooh-pa, ooh-pa, Jakarta style'?"

"A mantra of the Old Gods!" Feng fell to his knees. "The 'Ja-Kar-Ta' Realm! The legends spoke of its spicy fires and eternal traffic! He is summoning the ancient chaos!"

Suddenly, a massive shockwave rocked the building. The door to the washroom exploded outward, not from a demonic attack, but from a surge of golden light.

Dimas stumbled out, his face bright red, his hair a mess, and his arms frozen in a final, dramatic "finger-gun" pose. He was panting as if he’d run a marathon.

"Did... did it work?" he wheezed.

Mei Lin stared at him. She looked at his finger-guns. She looked at the golden aura that was now visibly radiating from his cheap polyester pajamas. The dragon on his chest was glowing so brightly it was hard to look at.

"Ancestor..." Mei Lin whispered, her icy blue eyes wide with something that looked dangerously like respect. "The air... it's vibrating. The demon... look!"

Dimas turned toward the balcony. The massive purple shadow, the Thousand-Soul Devourer, had stopped its advance. It wasn't because it was afraid. It was because the golden light coming from Dimas was projecting a massive, translucent image into the sky.

It was a projection of Dimas. Doing the Floss. Ten stories tall.

The demon let out a confused, garbled screech. It took a step back, its many-eyed face twitching in what could only be described as cosmic bewilderment.

"It’s working!" Dimas yelled, his confidence surging alongside his total humiliation. "Yeah! You like that, you smoky nerd? It’s the dance of my people! It’s called 'The Freelancer's Despair'!"

"The Ancestor’s technique is so profound it has paralyzed the beast’s very mind!" Feng cried, tears streaming down his face. "He is attacking its soul with pure, unfiltered absurdity!"

Mei Lin stepped beside Dimas. The golden glow from his pajamas was so intense it warmed her skin, cutting through her icy aura. She felt a strange flutter in her chest—not just fear, but a genuine, terrifying curiosity. Who was this man? He moved like a fool, spoke like a commoner, and yet, the very laws of reality seemed to bend to accommodate his nonsense.

"You," Mei Lin said, her voice softer than it had been all day. "You really are... something else."

Dimas looked at her. Her hair was windswept, her silver armor reflecting the golden glow of his 'Idol Dance' projection. For a second, the comedy faded. She was breathtaking.

"Is that a compliment, Mei?" Dimas asked, giving her a lopsided, exhausted grin. "Because I’ll take it. It’s better than being executed."

Mei Lin didn't look away. "Don't get ahead of yourself. The demon is confused, but it’s still here. What’s the second movement of your... 'Jakarta' style?"

Dimas looked at the blue screen floating near his ear.

[NEW MISSION: To banish the demon, the User must engage in 'Synchronized Duo-Cringe.']

[Requirement: Get the 'Icy General' to perform the 'Finger-Heart' gesture with you.]

Dimas’s heart skipped a beat. "Oh, you have got to be kidding me. She’ll actually kill me this time."

"What is it?" Mei Lin asked, her hand moving to her sword. "Does the ritual require more power?"

"Uh... yeah," Dimas said, rubbing the back of his neck. "But, uh, it’s a co-op move. I need you to do something with your hands. It’s a very ancient, very secret seal called the 'Aegis of the Heart'."

Mei Lin’s eyes narrowed. "A seal? Show me."

Dimas held up his thumb and forefinger, crossing them to form a tiny heart. "Like this. If we do it together, toward the demon... it’ll, uh, collapse its spiritual core."

Mei Lin looked at his hand. She looked at the giant, dancing Dimas in the sky. She looked at the disciples, all of whom were now copying Dimas's "finger-guns" in a desperate attempt to help.

"This is the most ridiculous thing I have ever seen," Mei Lin whispered.

"Welcome to my world," Dimas sighed. "You want to save the sect or not?"

Mei Lin hesitated, then slowly, with a face that was turning a shade of pink that rivaled the sunset, she raised her hand. She mimicked his gesture, her slender fingers touching his.

A pulse of pure, pink-and-gold energy erupted from their joined hands. It hit the Thousand-Soul Devourer like a physical weight. The demon let out one final, confused honk and dissolved into a cloud of harmless purple glitter.

The silence that followed was absolute.

Then, the disciples erupted into cheers. "The Heart-Seal! The Ancestor and the General have combined their souls!"

Mei Lin immediately yanked her hand away, her face burning. She turned her back to Dimas, her ponytail whipping around. "If you ever tell anyone I did that... I will hunt you to the ends of the earth."

Dimas grinned, leaning against the balcony railing as his glow began to fade. "Too late, Mei. I think it’s already the sect’s new official logo."

He looked up at the sky, where the 'Customer Support' window was giving him a 'thumbs up' icon.

[MISSION COMPLETE. REWARD: 500 SOUL-SHAMING POINTS.]

[LEVEL UP: FRAUDULENT ANCESTOR (LEVEL 2)]

"I really," Dimas muttered to himself, "need to find a way to get some actual power before I have to start doing the 'Macarena' to stop a dragon."

"Ancestor!" Feng shouted, running toward them. "That ritual! What was it called? We must record it in the chronicles!"

Dimas looked at Mei Lin, who was pointedly staring at a very interesting piece of gravel.

"It’s called..." Dimas paused, a devious glint in his eye. "The 'I-Love-You-3000' technique. And it only works if the General is involved."

Mei Lin’s sword unsheathed by a single, threatening inch. "Dimas... I'm warning you."

"And she knows my name!" Dimas laughed, feeling a strange, terrifying sense of belonging. "Progress! That’s definitely progress!"