This Was Supposed to Be an Urban Novel, So Why Are These Readers Cultivating Immortality?

[Ridiculous Comedy + Misguided Interpretations + Anti-Cliché]

I’m an unemployed male nurse who wrote an urban assassin novel.

The prose is ridiculously over the top, with lines like, “He weaves through the bustling streets, his movements ghostlike, his presence blending into the darkness.”

But my readers have screws loose. They insist I’ve written a book called The Urban Cultivation Manual!

From then on, the comments section took a bizarre turn: “Author, I’ve mastered the ‘ghostlike movements,’ but it’s a little hard on my pants!” “Quick question: to ‘blend into the darkness,’ do I need to cover myself in ink first?”

Even crazier, people out in the world started imitating the book! Someone held their breath trying to practice the “breath-holding technique” and ended up in the ICU, while someone else went looking for “heavenly treasures” and stole a ginseng plant from the zoo!

My childhood friend, a police officer, said, “Your fan club calls itself the Urban Cultivators Alliance. We’ve classified it as a new kind of cult! You, the ‘cult leader,’ are coming with us!”