So, after surviving my first accidental player raid by basically being a glorified couch potato,
I figured the universe owed me a break—or at least, some kind of reward for doing absolutely nothing. Turns out, it did.
A shiny new menu popped up in front of me like some overenthusiastic game announcer: "Lazy System Quest Board Unlocked!"
I blinked. Quest board? For doing nothing? Now that was my kind of mission.
The board glowed with absurd tasks:
- "Stay Still for 8 Hours Straight"
- "Sleep Through a Monster Attack"
- "Avoid Doing Anything Productive All Day"
Each mission came with sweet XP rewards. I was practically salivating.
"Alright, Universe. Challenge accepted," I muttered, dragging myself off the bench with all the enthusiasm of a sloth being poked awake.
I picked the "Stay Still for 8 Hours"quest first, figuring, hey, I already do that by default.
The system even timed me: countdown ticking down while I sat there like a statue. Somehow, even that was… relaxing.
Midway, a rogue bird swooped in and pooped right next to me. Classic. But I didn't even flinch. XP kept piling up.
Next up: "Sleep Through a Monster Attack."Like, really? Easy. I found the nearest tree, curled up, and let the world crash around me.
Boom. XP reward.
As I lounged there, a new skill notification blinked on the screen:
[Skill Unlocked: Aura of Chill Lv.1 — Passive buff that reduces enemy aggression nearby by 10%.]
Wait, what? Just by being lazily chill, monsters get less interested in me? Jackpot.
Suddenly, being lazy wasn't just a lifestyle — it was tactical genius.
I glanced around at the ruined village, my XP count climbing steadily.
Maybe this Godly Lazy System wasn't such a bad deal after all.
Time to level up… by doing less.
After crushing the "Do Nothing" quests like a pro, the Lazy System started throwing some curveballs my way.
The Quest Board refreshed with new missions — still ridiculously easy, but with that extra sprinkle of "Are you seriously making me do this?" flavor.
One said: "Avoid Eye Contact with Anyone for 12 Hours."
I smirked. Easy. I'm basically a professional ghost anyway.
Another: "Don't Move When a Player Passes Within 5 Feet."
Now, this one had potential for trouble. Players can be unpredictable, and moving meant effort.
So I nailed that too, pretending to be an immobile statue while players zoomed past, none the wiser.
XP poured in like it was raining free loot drops.
I was basically levelling up while doing the exact same thing I've done my whole life: avoiding effort.
But then, the system decided to get creative.
"Successfully Ignore a Town Crier's Announcements for 3 Consecutive Days."
I stared at the quest like it was a cosmic joke. Town criers in this game were obnoxious—like a broken record of bad news and weird rumors—and I'd been ignoring them since Day One.
So I kicked back, threw a sarcastic grin at the sky, and thought: Finally, a quest made for me.
Days passed.
I didn't move, didn't acknowledge the town crier's endless bellowing, and sure enough, the system rewarded me with a hefty XP boost and another skill upgrade.
[Skill Unlocked: Zen Procrastinator Lv.1 — Passive ability to reduce mental stress and increase XP gained during idle states.]
My lazy powers were stacking up fast. I was starting to wonder if being a background NPC with zero responsibilities was the best destiny anyone could ask for.
Of course, not everything was sunshine and XP bars.
As I perfected my art of doing nothing, whispers began circulating around the village—NPCs were noticing me more than usual.
Not in a "Hey, that guy's cool" way, but more like "What the heck is he up to?" kind of way.
But did I care? Nah.
I just reclined on my favorite bench and watched XP tick up, one lazy second at a time.
The next quest popped up just as I was about to take a nap — "Maintain an Aura of Chill in a Crisis."
What even was that? Sounds like something a yogi or a motivational speaker would say.
But hey, the system never asked for my opinion, so I figured I'd give it a shot. Easy enough, right? Just don't freak out, don't move, don't care. Perfect.
A pack of goblins stormed the village outskirts, and chaos erupted.
NPCs were running around screaming, throwing whatever weapons they had, and begging for player heroes to show up.
Me? I stayed put. Calm. Relaxed. Reclined on my bench like I was on vacation.
My sarcastic inner voice was going wild: "Yeah, these guys are losing their minds. Meanwhile, I'm leveling up just by chilling. Who's the real hero here?"
The system rewarded me instantly:
[Skill Unlocked: Aura of Chill Lv.1 — Passive effect lowers aggro from enemies and increases XP gain when remaining calm.]
Apparently, my laziness wasn't just a personality quirk; it was a literal power. I could keep enemies less interested in me just by looking uninterested in everything.
Some goblins wandered close, confused by my total lack of reaction. One even poked me with a club. I yawned and shifted just enough to dodge without standing up. XP popped up.
Other NPCs gawked at me like I was some kind of freak—except the suspicious AI healer who had been watching me since I showed up. She raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
Meanwhile, players rolled in, sweeping through the village like stormtroopers in a video game. They were loud, flashy, and all about action. The complete opposite of my vibe.
I stayed frozen, embracing my "Aura of Chill" as XP kept stacking, and my lazy grin grew wider.
Maybe this whole "doing nothing" thing was the best grind strategy in the game. Who knew?
With the goblin chaos dying down, I finally got a chance to check out the new feature the system dropped on me — the Lazy System Quest Board.
Yeah, apparently, even lazy heroes need a to-do list. Hilarious, right?
The quest board floated in the air, shiny and obnoxiously bright, listing missions that looked tailor-made for someone allergic to work:
- "Stay Still 8 Hours Straight"
- "Sleep Through a Village Raid"
- "Avoid Eye Contact With Dangerous Monsters"
- "Ignore NPC Drama for a Full Day"
I blinked. This was my kind of grind.
I picked "Stay Still 8 Hours Straight"
just to test the system's limits.
The moment I plopped down on the bench again, a timer started counting down. I thought, If I can just sit here all day, XP gains will skyrocket.
Other NPCs were running errands, gossiping, or freaking out about the earlier attack, but I was on a mission: absolute laziness.
The system chimed every hour with little XP rewards, and a progress bar that filled up slowly but surely.
As the hours ticked by, I noticed something new. My "Aura of Chill" started glowing
faintly around me, like a lazy force field.
Enemies were less likely to come near. Even the AI healer gave me a subtle nod — either impressed or suspicious. Probably both.
At one point, a group of players strutted by, talking strategy and complaining about the game's grind. I smirked.
They didn't get it. Real power wasn't about fighting nonstop; it was about chilling nonstop.
When I finally hit the 8-hour mark, the quest completed with a satisfying ding:
"Quest Complete: Daily Quest: Do Nothing"
Rewards: 500 XP, [Skill Upgrade] Aura of Chill Lv.2
Leveling up my lazy powers was starting to feel pretty damn good.
I leaned back, stretched just enough to look natural, and prepared for the next ridiculously easy quest the system might throw at me.
This lazy grind was officially my new life.
Just as I was basking in my freshly leveled Aura of Chill, the village suddenly quieted down. Too quiet.
Like the calm before a storm — or worse, an admin's surprise patch update.
Out of nowhere, the air shimmered. A figure appeared at the edge of the square — tall, cloaked in dark robes, with glowing eyes that screamed "I'm not an NPC."
My lazy instincts screamed: *"Run. Or maybe just roll over and play dead."*
But the system pinged: "Warning: Unknown entity detected. Potential threat level—high."
The villagers scattered, panic rippling through the square like a bad game lag spike. Even the healer NPC, usually chill and indifferent, seemed tense.
The cloaked figure stepped forward, voice dripping with cold authority:
"Level 1 NPC, you have gained... unusual power. This disrupts the balance. You will be reset."
Reset. The word hit me like a glitch in my lazy flow. Reset meant deletion, a reboot back to zero — maybe worse.
I glanced at my XP bar. I was barely getting started. There was no way I was going down without at least trying to be kinda heroic.
The system buzzed urgently: "Activate combat mode? Energy low."
I sighed. Fighting was such a drag, but survival was mandatory. I half-rolled off the bench, squinting at my new, ominous visitor.
"Guess it's showtime... or maybe just a very reluctant dance," I muttered.
And with that, the village square descended into tense silence — the kind where even the crickets don't dare chirp.
To be continued...