章節 11: Ch. 11 – Error 404: Motivation Not Found
The notification from the system still hovered in front of my half-lidded eyes, glowing smugly like it had just invented comedy.
New Side Quest Unlocked: Remain inactive for 48 hours.
Reward: ???
I stared at it for a good thirty seconds, brain cells running at their usual lazy snail pace.
"Forty-eight hours…" I muttered.
On one hand, that was ridiculous. Who even designed this system? Was this some cosmic troll developer with a grudge against treadmills?
On the other hand… I had just survived twenty-four hours by doing nothing.
Not only survived — I thrived.
XP poured in like rain, my skills leveled up just by sitting still, and the dungeon itself practically declared me honorary furniture.
So, really… another day of doing nothing?
That was just a sequel.
I smirked and tapped Accept without hesitation.
Quest Accepted.
Timer initiated: 48:00:00.
The dungeon air didn't change.
Still damp and moldy.
Still "wet socks and regret."
But the system sure noticed.
New Passive Buff Acquired: Melancholic Stillness Lv.1
While idle, user gains +5% resistance to fear.
While idle, user loses -5% motivation to move.
I squinted at the message.
"…So you're telling me I just got rewarded for depression?"
The torches flickered dimmer, as if the dungeon itself was nodding solemnly in agreement.
Shadows stretched a little longer.
The atmosphere felt… heavier.
Not dangerous ,Just sad.
Even the rats scuttled slower, tails dragging behind them like they couldn't be bothered anymore.
I chuckled under my breath.
"Great.
I'm not just lazy.
I'm contagious.
The dungeon ceiling dripped occasionally, like even the stones were bored enough to cry.
I didn't move.
The system's glow flickered above him, projecting yet another line of text:
[Passive Effect Intensifies: Ennui Field Lv.2 Activated]
— Nearby creatures feel inexplicably drained of purpose.
Somewhere in the dark, a skeleton warrior clattered its bones together, raised its rusted sword high… and then lowered it again.
The flames in its eye sockets dimmed to pale embers.
"Yeah," I said, still sprawled on the floor.
"That's the mood."
The skeleton gave a hollow rattle that sounded suspiciously like a sigh, then sat down beside me.
Two minutes later, a slime bounced in, wiggled threateningly… then just slouched against a wall, slowly melting into a puddle of self-loathing goo.
[Passive Effect Intensifies: Ennui Contagion detected.]
Warning: prolonged idleness may create a dungeon-wide emotional hazard.
I cracked open one eye. "Wait, you're telling me I'm too lazy… even for monsters?"
The system didn't answer—at least, not directly.
Instead, it pinged a new alert:
[New Substatus Acquired: Emotional Overload Risk – 12%]
If the Host's laziness surpasses the critical threshold, permanent motivational collapse may occur.
I groaned.
"Permanent collapse? That sounds like… my dream lifestyle."
The skeleton beside him groaned in agreement.
The slime burbled what might've been support.
For a moment, the silence was comfortable. Too comfortable.
Then the system chimed again.
[Host has unlocked: Aura of Existential Dread Lv.1]
Enemies in a 10-meter radius question their life choices and stop attacking
I squinted up at the floating text. "Aura of…?
That's not a skill, That's just being alive in this economy."
The dungeon trembled faintly, as though agreeing.
And somewhere in the darkness, a boss monster—something big, heavy, and mean—let out a roar… only to immediately cough and mutter,
"Why do I even bother anymore?"
So apparently, the system thinks I'm "too relaxed."
Yeah. That's a thing now.
A warning box blinked into existence:
⚠ ALERT: Motivation levels dropping below recommended threshold.
Passive buffs evolving into depression-tier status conditions.
Excuse me? Depression-tier? I'm not depressed. I'm resting. Big difference.
But the system wasn't buying it.
Another chime followed:
[New Passive Acquired: Ennui Aura Lv.1]
Nearby players suffer –5 Morale just by being within ten meters of you.
Oh. Cool.
I'm literally contagious boredom now.
One step away from being classified as an environmental hazard.
And, because the universe loves comedy, a poor newbie wandered into the dungeon while I was mid-yawn.
His health bar was fine, but his face? You'd think he'd just realized life was meaningless.
He glanced at me—then promptly logged out.
System: Congratulations, you've successfully demotivated a fellow adventurer. +10 EXP.
Me: "…what the hell kind of hero arc is this?"
Still, the numbers didn't lie. EXP was EXP, even if I earned it by doing… absolutely nothing. My kind of grind.
Unfortunately, the system wasn't done trolling me.
⚠ Warning: Emotional Overload Detected.
Remaining idle for too long may result in Permanent Existential Crisis.
Do you wish to proceed? [YES/NO]
Permanent Existential Crisis.
That's not a debuff—that's just called being human after 2 a.m.
I hit YES without even thinking.
Of course I did.
Who says no to free existentialism?
The screen flickered again, and a new passive slid into place:
[Passive Acquired: Couch Philosopher Lv.1]
Gain +5 Wisdom when lying down.
Lose –10 Charisma when attempting to stand up.
Beautiful.
I was officially evolving from "lazy player" into "walking cautionary tale."
But hey—at least I didn't have to move.
The system chimed again, and for a second I swore it sighed.
Like, audibly.
Warning: Subject may be experiencing "Existential Nap Syndrome."
Side Effects: Loss of purpose, random sighing, mysterious craving for fried chicken.
…You know what? That last one might not be a side effect.
That just sounds like me.
I tilted my head back, staring at the dungeon ceiling.
Noticed a crack shaped almost perfectly like a chicken drumstick.
Coincidence? Probably Destiny right.
Also probably.
And yet, somehow, that tiny thought spiraled.
"What's the point of grinding levels? What's the point of treasure? Why even move when death just respawns you, and naps are free?"
Yeah. That's where I was at.
Dungeon floor philosopher edition.
The system must've panicked, because a new message flashed:
Buff Applied: "Sad Lullaby Aura." Nearby enemies may also lose motivation to attack.
I didn't believe it until I heard it: the goblins a few corridors down started whining.
"Bro, I don't even feel like stabbing anyone today…"
"Same, man. What's the point of ambushes if we just respawn?"
"…let's just… sit down…"
And they did.
Full squad of goblins, just flopped against the wall like me, staring at the ceiling, reevaluating their meaningless goblin lives.
Congratulations to me, apparently. I'd invented passive mass depression warfare.
Honestly? Felt kind of powerful.
每周推薦票狀態
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