I Come to Teach You Cultivation - Chapter 242 - 12: Surpassing the Gods (3/3)

As the apocalypse arrives, Song Ke, who grew up in the abandoned area, unexpectedly awakens her special ability. Within her field of vision, all objects can be transformed into handy spiritual tools with just a thought. She becomes the sharpest blade, now possessing the most flexible scabbard. Wherever she goes, zombies of all kinds cower in fear.

After wandering alone for several days, Song Ke encounters a troublesome man. The man has a broken leg, and speaks weakly as if on the verge of death, yet there’s a smile at the corner of his mouth that is strangely beguiling.

“Little girl, I have nothing to offer you in return. How about offering myself to you?”

Suspiciously eyeing him for a couple of seconds, Song Ke slowly summons her spiritual tool.

“Speak up, how do you want to… die?”

One thing leads to another, and her adventurous path… takes a peculiar turn? She ends up gathering a series of strange teammates.

A year after the apocalypse, a bizarre rumor circulates among the major surviving bases:

It’s said that the top-ranked awakener team “V587” on the scoreboard are all burly and sturdy, capable of frightening children with their bear-like physiques and iron-like strength.

Their name alone exudes power: V587, how commanding and domineering!

V587 punches the Zombie King, kicks mutant beasts, robs the Death Prison of Sin City, and KOs the tyrannical rulers of District C with one move!

No matter how difficult the mission, it’s flawlessly cleared when it falls into their hands.

Their feats become the talk of the Alliance, earning admiration from countless ability users.

Until the grand opening of the inaugural global awakeners challenge, the enigmatic V587 members gather, making their first appearance.

The crowd’s faces turn dumbfounded, “Wait, who are these elderly, young, sick, and two wheelchair-bound cripples? V587? Nooo!”

Overpowered Stutterer x Cunning Smiling Tiger

【Reading Guide】

This is not a space-oriented story. It’s set in an alternative future with a significant technological gap (about 50 years ahead) and uses fictional terms with no direct prototypes.

Combines superpowers with cyberpunk elements, featuring a main storyline alongside team adventures.

Team recruitment is relatively slow at the beginning. The protagonist’s team consists of 7 members, each with their own flaws.

BLURB> He was reborn by mistake. Raised with purpose. Loved by a god. Worshipped by monsters. And the galaxy doesn’t stand a fucking chance.Irvine’s soul took one wrong turn through the wheel of karma and woke up in a body grown by an intergalactic hivemind goddess with boundary issues and galaxy-sized ambition. Now he’s the golden child of a psychic swarm that feeds on control and burns whole worlds for affection.With Crystal at the helm, warriors like Kimchi, relic-weapons like Kiya, and a council of psionic horrors eager to call him king, Irvine must choose what kind of god he wants to be.Because when a hivemind learns to love......it doesn’t know when to stop.The universe will kneel—or get devoured trying.SYNOPSISIrvine didn’t ask to be reincarnated, but the cosmos had other plans. And it didn’t hand him a cheat code or a clean slate—just one random boon, selected by an uncaring divine roulette wheel.Good karma? Bad karma? Balanced as all fuck.Now he's reborn in the body of a psionically tuned alien hybrid, raised from psychic infancy by Crystal, the hivemind queen of a race so advanced they’ve abandoned individuality for shared omniscience. All except her baby boy.Irvine is the singularity inside the swarm, the first soul allowed to think, dream, and desire independently. Trained by warriors like Kimchi, advised by bio-symbiotes like Kiya, loved ferociously by hive sisters like Diane, and shadowed by powers ancient and unnamed, Irvine is both weapon and wielder, saint and sacrifice.But empires don’t run on hugs and handjobs. As Crystal expands her dominion—across star systems and sentient nebulae—Irvine must lead the charge through blood, fire, and psionic flame.His soul is still human. His body? Engineered for extinction. His heart? Not entirely his anymore.

Rong Zhi was switched at birth and lived in the countryside for eighteen years, her family was poor, and she dropped out of high school to work.At eighteen, her biological parents came to her door, saying she was the daughter of the Rong Family in Beijing and came to take her back to Beijing.Above her were uncles watching over the family inheritance, below were biological siblings.She was warned by her parents: Learn the rules from your brothers and sisters, don't cause trouble, the Rong Family can't afford to lose face because of you.Rong Zhi brushed aside the bangs on her forehead, smiling brightly: “Okay.”Everyone was waiting to see the joke of this ignorant and unsuccessful Third Young Master Rong, but as they watched, she became the Crown Prince who had the final say in Beijing.Everyone: This doesn't quite match what we were told??The Bai Family Head returned to the country, and all the noble families in Beijing were on high alert, except for that carefree member of the Rong Family.One day at a banquet, everyone saw Mr. Bai, standing at the top of the pyramid, bend down, holding a pair of high heels in his hand, speaking helplessly: “Such a princess.”Looking again at the long-haired woman in a dark green cheongsam standing in front of him, barefoot on his shoes, “I am a princess, and it's none of your business.”This familiar face, this familiar arrogant tone...Everyone was stunned, their eyes open wide in disbelief: Third Master Rong?!【Front-stage female disguised as male + slight sci-fi + no logic + feel-good novel + 1v1 single couple】

war, blood, and betrayal carved him into something else. A legend. A killer. A mercenary whose name struck fear into both criminals and so-called heroes alike.But now, the world had changed. Lines blurred between right and wrong, between justice and vengeance. Should he step into the light, wear the mask of a hero, and fight for a cause greater than himself? Or should he embrace the darkness that had always been his home, a place where morality was just another illusion?“Don’t box me in with your shallow ideas of good and evil,” he muttered, his voice calm but edged with danger. “I do what I want, when I want.”The air was thick with tension as he moved like a shadow through the dimly lit room. The writer had no time to react—one moment, he was scribbling nonsense about legends and myths; the next, a cold barrel pressed against the back of his head.The figure smirked beneath his mask, eyes gleaming with something between amusement and menace.“You wanna write fiction?” he whispered. “Then let me show you how real legends are made.”A single gunshot shattered the silence.As the writer’s body slumped over the desk, the man holstered his weapon, stepping into the faint glow of a flickering neon light.“It’s that simple,” he said, his voice unwavering. “I’m Deathstroke.”