Chapter 9: Chap 9- "Lazy PvP Duel"
The afternoon was perfect.
Sunlight filtered through the pixelated leaves of the in-game forest, birds chirped on a loop that was probably five seconds long, and I was—obviously—doing what I did best: absolutely nothing.
I was leaning against a tree, half-slouched like gravity had personally declared war on me, scrolling through my system notifications as if they were some cursed meme feed.
Life was good.
Effort expended: zero. XP: quietly stacking like a lazy man's retirement fund.
That's when he appeared.
Some players have subtle entrances—sneaking in, blending with the crowd, whispering rumors.
Not this guy. Nope.
This one marched into the clearing like he'd hired his own theme music.
Armor? Glowing neon, polished enough to blind a firefly. Sword? So oversized it screamed "compensating."
And don't even get me started on the unnecessary sparkles that trailed behind him. The guy looked like a loot box had exploded on him.
"Yo!" he bellowed, chest puffed out like an NPC trying to sell you snake oil.
"You're that infamous lazy legend, right? The one they call the AFK King? The Sleeper Duelist? The… the Snorlax with Wi-Fi?"
I blinked. "…What?"
He ignored me, waving his massive sword like a flag of desperation. "Let's settle this—one-on-one! A PvP duel for clout, for glory, for street cred!"
I raised an eyebrow. "Street cred. In a medieval fantasy MMO."
The crowd, who clearly had been waiting for a distraction from grinding wild boars, began to gather.
Players, NPCs, even a couple of bots that normally stood frozen by the market stalls wandered over, their AI curiosity apparently triggered by the words "PvP duel."
The challenger grinned, showing teeth so white they probably had their own shader pack. "What's the matter? Scared?"
I stretched like I had all the time in the world, suppressing a yawn. "Scared? Nah. ..
I was just debating whether to nap vertically or horizontally ,guess you'll do as a pillow substitute."
The crowd laughed.
A few players shouted encouragement, though it wasn't clear if they were cheering for him or for me to keep roasting him.
"Just don't cry when I win," the challenger bragged, raising his sword dramatically.
"Yeah, yeah Try not to sprain your ego," I muttered, flopping down on the grass like a man preparing for a picnic instead of a fight.
And just like that, the battle of the century—or at least the next five minutes of server gossip—officially began.
The duel kicked off with the challenger charging at me, sword glowing like a nightclub on steroids.
He unleashed a flurry of swings so fast and flashy I was pretty sure my GPU was about to file a complaint.
Meanwhile, me? I was just standing there, scratching my head like I'd forgotten if I left the stove on in real life.
Halfway through his tenth "ultimate anime combo," I casually raised a finger and tapped my wrist.
DING!
"Checkpoint saved," the system chimed, cheerful as ever.
My opponent stopped mid-swing.
"What?
Did you just—did you seriously set a checkpoint right now? In the middle of the fight?"
I gave him a slow nod. "Yep.
Because if this gets boring, I'm hitting reset and trying again.
Or, you know, logging out for a nap."
The crowd erupted in laughter again.
Someone shouted, "He's speedrunning PvP like it's a mobile game!"
The challenger turned red, his swings growing even more erratic.
He lunged at me with the desperation of a man trying to impress his crush at the arcade.
I, meanwhile, tilted my head lazily, just enough for his blade to whoosh past my ear.
I shifted one foot to the side, his slash digging harmlessly into the dirt.
Every dodge was minimal.
A step for the masses.
A lean. A sigh to express my disinterest.
It wasn't a duel—it was yoga for one participant and cardio hell for the other.
"Come on! Fight back!" he roared, panting already.
I stretched my arms above my head, yawning loud enough to echo. "Chill, man.
The show's just starting."
The next attack came fast—a spinning slash that sent sparks flying.
Honestly, it should have clipped me.
Should've, if I wasn't me.
Time slowed.
My eyes half-closed.
My body moved on autopilot, like some ancient dojo muscle memory had kicked in.
I leaned back just enough for the blade to miss, yawning mid-motion like this was all a bedtime routine.
The challenger's expression flickered from triumph to horror.
And then—bam.
My hand flicked forward with all the intensity of swatting a mosquito.
A light, lazy counter that barely counted as effort.
Yet somehow, perfectly timed, it smacked him across the jaw.
He stumbled back, eyes wide, almost tripping over his own oversized boots.
The crowd went wild.
NPC shopkeepers abandoned their stalls. Random quest-givers stopped mid-dialogue.
Even a healer bot whispered, "Damn."
I stretched again, brushing imaginary dust from my sleeve. "Guess that's why they call it Instinctual Dodge, huh?"
DING!
"Skill Unlocked: Instinctual Dodge Lv.1. Passive effect: automatic evasion triggered by minimal physical effort."
I blinked at the notification. "Great.
More stuff I don't have to think about."
The challenger's jaw dropped. "H-how… how did you—? That's not even—! You didn't even—!"
I held up a finger. "Exactly."
The crowd burst into chatter.
"Did you see that? He yawned mid-dodge!"
"Bro's hacking reality itself."
"Nah, that was pure skill. The laziest skill I've ever seen."
The challenger slammed his sword into the ground, sparks flying. "Rematch! Right now!"
I was already turning away, hands shoved in my pockets. "Nah. I'm booked.
Got a nap scheduled in about… oh, five seconds."
"Coward!" he shouted. "Face me properly!"
I waved over my shoulder without looking back. "Sorry, can't hear you over the sound of my self-care routine."
The system buzzed softly in my ear. "Warning: Opponent frustration level critical. Recommend downtime activity: rest."
I grinned and finally, some advice I could actually follow.
Behind me, the crowd kept buzzing, players chasing after me asking for lessons, NPCs bowing like I was some hidden master, and the challenger still screaming for a rematch.
Me? I just yawned, stretched, and teleported toward the nearest inn. After all, being a legend was exhausting.
As I reached the inn, ready to collapse into a well-deserved nap that I hadn't earned, the system pinged again.
DING!
"New Quest Unlocked: Side Quest — Don't Move."
I squinted at the glowing text hovering in front of my half-shut eyes. "…Don't move? What is this, a children's game of red light, green light?"
The system responded in that cheerful, corporate-robot tone I hated.
"Warning: Standing still for 10 minutes will yield unique rewards,moving before the timer ends will activate Penalty Protocol."
The crowd behind me gasped like I'd just been handed a death flag.
"Penalty Protocol? Dude, that's the one nobody survives!"
"Bro's about to AFK himself into oblivion!"
I rubbed my temple. Great.
Another headache disguised as a quest.
I sighed. "So basically… my only job is to keep doing nothing?"
The system: "Affirmative. Initiating countdown."
And just like that, the clock began ticking.
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone