Fifty years after the nuclear war, spiritual qi revival begins, and everyone awakens an ability.
Other people's abilities: controlling fire, commanding the wind, explosive powers, flashy techniques. Every one of them is chosen by fate.
My ability: a ten-cubic-meter storage space.
In other words, a mobile warehouse.
I spent eight years as the vice president's son's lackey, only to be thrown into a death cell.
An old lunatic at the Nascent Soul stage was locked up there. He said I had an extraordinary physique and insisted on teaching me cultivation techniques.
I said, "Old man, I have an ability. If I cultivate, I'll explode and die."
The old man said, "Give it a try."
So I did.
I didn't die.
My storage space can hold more than things. It can store true qi, too.
Other people cultivate with talent. I cultivate by "restocking."
Other people run out of true qi after one fight. I can fight for three days and nights and still have supplies left.
The Awakened Association put a bounty on my head, calling me a traitor.
The Cultivators' Alliance suspects I'm a spy, calling me an anomaly.
I'm Liu Xing, 24 years old, and all I want is to open a little supermarket.
How did I become the biggest problem of this era?
