After lunch, I headed to the library to understand this world better and figure out how to get stronger. Like my dad used to say, the only way to stand up to bullies is by being stronger. With sweet tea in hand, I set off. The temperature seemed to be creeping up to Florida swamp levels, making me long for the shade of a good ol' Southern oak tree.

On my walk, other peculiar sights caught my attention. I noticed a higher part of the mountain, walled off, looking eerily similar to the neighbor up north. "Maybe they got some maple syrup there," I mused, chuckling to myself. After all the sightseeing, I finally made it to the library. It was a five-story building, the tallest and most imposing structure around. Its sheer size was both intimidating and exciting.

As I stepped inside, the musty scent of old books hit me, bringing a wave of nostalgia. At a circular desk in the center of the room sat a very old man with a long, white beard, snoring softly. His beard practically wrapped around him like a blanket. My presence must have stirred him because he woke up with a start.

"Welcome, young man," he greeted me, his voice gravelly with age. "What can I do for you?"

"Howdy, sir," I replied, tipping my hat slightly. "I was wondering if you got any of them books on the basics and stuff of Qi, or Qi, however you say it."

The old man chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Qi, young man. Pronounced 'chee.' We have many books on the basics of Qi cultivation. Follow me."

He led me through rows upon rows of shelves, each stacked high with ancient tomes and scrolls. We finally stopped at a section labeled *Basic Qi Cultivation*. "Here you will find what you need," he said, gesturing to the shelves.

"Thank you, sir," I said, nodding appreciatively. As I began to peruse the books, one in particular caught my eye: *The Basics of Using Qi*. It seemed straightforward, so I pulled it from the shelf and found a quiet corner to sit down and read.

I dove into the book, eager to understand this new world and how to harness its power. The book explained various methods of cultivating Qi, with some people using techniques like waves to move Qi through their bodies, strengthening their physical forms and Qi circles. I thought the wave cultivation method sounded simple enough, so I decided to give it a try.

Closing my eyes, I imagined Qi moving through me like gentle waves. But no sooner had I started than a sharp, searing pain shot through my chest. I gasped, my concentration shattered. "Well, that ain't it," I grumbled, rubbing my chest.

Undeterred, I flipped through more pages, trying out different techniques. Each one either didn’t work or caused varying degrees of discomfort. After going through thirty different basic cultivation techniques with no success, I felt frustrated and defeated. Determined not to give up, I decided to seek guidance from the old man again. "Sir, are cultivation techniques supposed to cause crazy amounts of pain?" I asked, my voice tinged with desperation.

The old man looked at me with a mixture of amusement and concern. "Young man, cultivation techniques should cause no pain. If they do, it means you are on the wrong path. The right technique for you should give you a feeling of high energy and harmony."

"Darn," I muttered under my breath. "I get sent to this different world where I can be the first magic cowboy, but then I can’t learn magic?"

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The old man chuckled. "Do not lose hope. The path of cultivation is different for everyone. You will find the technique that suits you."

With a nod, I went back to the library, more determined than ever. There had to be a cultivation technique that was right for me. I wasn't about to give up on becoming the first magic cowboy. I returned to the shelves, scanning the titles with renewed purpose.

Hours passed as I pored over book after book, searching for something that felt right. My eyes were starting to blur, so I decided to take a break and find out where the smoke I'd seen earlier was coming from. As I walked through the compound, trying to find my way, a group of inner disciples in their ornate robes blocked my path. They sneered at me, clearly looking for trouble. Maybe they were a few new friends of that cocky bastard I'd encountered earlier.

"Well, if it ain't the wannabe cowboy," one of them taunted, stepping forward with a smug look.

"What do you want?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

"We want to see if you're tough enough to survive here," another sneered. Before I could react, they lunged at me, fists and feet flying. I tried to defend myself, but their coordinated attacks quickly overwhelmed me.

I hit the ground hard, pain radiating through my body. "Reckon y'all got me wrong," I muttered, struggling to get up. "I ain't lookin' for trouble."

The leader of the group laughed. "Too late for that. You brought it on yourself by being here." With a final, brutal kick to my side, they left me lying in the dirt, gasping for breath.

Determined not to be beaten down, I slowly got to my feet and made my way to the forge. When I arrived, the blacksmith looked up from his work, his eyes curious.

"Howdy, sir. I need some help modifying these robes," I said, laying them out. "Think you can make 'em more like what I'm used to? A bit more cowboy."

The blacksmith studied the robes and nodded. "I think I can manage that. What exactly do you have in mind?"

"Something sturdy and practical," I explained, tapping my boots. "And if you could incorporate some of this Qi stuff to make 'em special, that'd be mighty fine."

The blacksmith grinned. "I like your style. Leave it to me."

While he worked on my new outfit, I continued to try to come up with a new cultivation method. As I listened to the sounds of the forge—the hammering, the sizzling of hot metal—the rhythmic jingle jangle of the blacksmith's tools started to resonate with something deep inside me.

I closed my eyes, trying to feel the Qi within me, imagining it moving in sync with the sounds around me. The Qi started to respond, flowing through me like the rhythmic beat of a cowboys' steps. I envisioned myself walking around the steady jingle of my spurs setting the pace. This time, there was no pain, only a growing sense of power and harmony.

"Well, look at that," I murmured to myself. "I reckon I found my path."

The blacksmith interrupted my thoughts, holding up my new outfit. It was perfect—a blend of traditional cowboy gear with mystical touches. "Here you go, partner. Hope this suits your fancy."

"Much obliged," I said, grinning as I tried on the new clothes. They felt right, like an extension of myself.

With renewed confidence, I returned to my training spot. I visualized the Qi moving through me with the jingle jangle rhythm, and to my surprise, the Qi began to flow smoothly, filling me with a sense of energy and harmony I'd never felt before.

Stats:

**Name:** Jake

**Level:** 1

**Qi Capacity:** 50

**Qi Control:** 30

**Physical Strength:** 25

**Agility:** 20

**Stamina:** 35

Cultivation Method (Basic):

**Cowboy steps:**

Just as I was feeling good about my progress, the inner disciples showed up again, their leader smirking. "Still playing cowboy, I see.

"What's it to you?" I shot back, standing my ground.

"Let's see if your fancy new moves can save you," he sneered. They attacked again, but this time, I was ready. Using my newfound Qi techniques, I managed to hold my own for a while, but their numbers and experience were too much. I was knocked down again, tasting dirt and blood.

"Don't think this changes anything," the leader said, kicking me one last time. "You're still nothing here."

As they walked away, I lay there, panting and battered. But inside, I felt a flicker of hope. I had held my own, even if only for a moment. I wasn't going to give up. With determination and a bit of Southern grit, I was going to find my path and prove that even a cowboy could master the mystical arts.

With my new outfit and my unique cultivation path, I felt ready to take on whatever challenges this world threw at me. I wasn't just going to be a cultivator—I was going to be the first magic cowboy.