*Whoosh!*
Qin Feng launched himself off his donkey like a poorly aimed potato cannon, crash-landing on a tree branch 300 meters away. His eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. Below, a squad of beefy bandits surrounded a girl in a violet dress that shimmered like a disco ball under moonlight. Her exposed calves glowed with the unfair radiance of someone who'd never skipped leg day.
"Holy guacamole! It's a walking anime convention!" Qin Feng choked back tears. Eight years in this xianxia world had deprived him of such *cultured* fashion choices. The last time he'd seen this much skin was on a shady streaming site back on Earth.
*Thwack!*
The girl—Zi Yuan—tried a palm strike that looked like a drunk tai chi move. The bandit she hit stumbled back two steps, snorted, and cracked his knuckles. "Cute try, princess. But you're only at Nascent Realm Level 3. Time to—"
"Uh-oh," Zi Yuan squeaked, freezing like a deer in headlights as the bandit charged.
Qin Feng cracked his knuckles, ready to yell his best *"Release that maiden!"* cliché… when—
*SHIIIING!*
A sword sang through the air, slicing the bandit's charge short. Blood rained like a malfunctioning ketchup packet.
"Lin San?!" Qin Feng gasped. The sword-wielding hero landed with the dramatic flair of a Marvel superhero, cape (if he had one) billowing in nonexistent wind. "But you're supposed to be in Tianxin City, brooding on a rooftop somewhere!"
Lin San flicked blood off his blade, striking a pose that screamed *"I'm here to save the day and look fabulous doing it."* "Bullying a maiden? For shame!"
The remaining bandits roared, popping glowing red pills like Skittles.
"Rage Pills?!" Lin San paled. "Those things'll boost their power but cost 'em ten years of life! Who even sells these?!"
"The same people who sell energy drinks, probably," Qin Feng muttered.
The bandits bulged into Hulk-esque monstrosities. Lin San lunged, but Qin Feng zipped past him in a blur.
*Slice! Slice! Slice!*
Three bandits dropped like overripe watermelons.
**[Ding! Host annihilates three NPCs. +300 Villain Points!]**
Lin San stared at Qin Feng's sheathed sword. "You… you didn't even let me finish my monologue!"
"Monologues are for Disney villains," Qin Feng shrugged. He turned to Zi Yuan, who was gazing at Lin San with heart-eyes usually reserved for K-pop idols.
"Thank you, noble sir!" She curtsied at Lin San, ignoring Qin Feng entirely. "Your valor shines brighter than a thousand suns!"
Qin Feng fake-gagged. "Oh please, he just did the bare minimum. *I* did the cool sword thing!"
A dying bandit wheezed, firing a flare into the sky. A neon tiger emblem exploded above them. "Our boss… He's at Spirit Realm Level 3… You're all dead meat!"
"Spirit Realm?!" Zi Yuan squeaked. "That's, like, *way* above our pay grade!"
Lin San smirked. "Relax. With Brother Qin here, we'll be fine."
"Wait, *we*?" Qin Feng backpedaled. "I didn't sign up for a boss fight! I'm just here for the loot and sarcastic commentary!"
Too late. Thunderous hoofbeats shook the ground as dozens of bandits charged toward them, led by a mountain of a man wielding a comically oversized axe.
"BEHOLD!" The boss bellowed. "I am Ironclad Wang, the—"
"Yeah, yeah, 'scourge of the eastern plains,' blah blah," Qin Feng yawned. "Can we skip to the part where I humiliate you?"
Lin San facepalmed. "Must you provoke *every* antagonist?"
"Provoking villains is my cardio," Qin Feng shot back, unsheathing his sword. "Besides, someone's gotta teach these guys about personal space."
As the bandits closed in, Qin Feng whispered to Zi Yuan, "Hey, wanna see a magic trick?"
"Magic… what?"
He winked. "I'll make their weapons disappear."
*Clang!*
Qin Feng's blade blurred, disarming three bandits in seconds. Their swords embedded in a tree, spelling "LOL."
Lin San groaned. "Must you turn *everything* into a meme?!"
"Yes," Qin Feng said solemnly. "It's my sacred duty as the internet's last surviving sh*tposter."
The battle devolved into chaos—Qin Feng cracking jokes while dismembering goons, Lin San facepalming mid-swordfight, and Zi Yuan cheering like this was a pay-per-view UFC match.
When Ironclad Wang finally fell (tripping over his own axe, thanks to a sneaky pebble Qin Feng "accidentally" kicked), the trio collapsed, laughing hysterically.
"You're both insane," Zi Yuan giggled.
"Insane?" Qin Feng gasped. "This was a *Tuesday*."
Lin San sheathed his sword, muttering about "unprofessionalism in heroics." But even he couldn't hide a grin. Somewhere, the universe facepalmed at its own absurdity.