Chapter 38

The morning sun shone warmly and gently, slanting through the glass and sprinkling onto the large bed by the window.

The bedding on the bed lay flat. Without close inspection, no one would notice the small mound in the middle.

“It’s time to get up.”

“If you don’t get up soon, you’ll miss breakfast time. It’s not good for your body.”

“Come on, get up.”

An invisible hand kept poking at the small bundle under the covers, urging it on with a mechanical, icy voice.

After a good while, the “small mound” suddenly bounced, slamming the bed with a muffled thud.

The poking hand paused for a moment, then continued poking.

Thud!

Another bounce. The “small mound” began wriggling out from under the covers. When it emerged, it was like a compressed dandelion blooming in an instant.

A fluffy oval shape shook itself in the sunlight, sending tufts of fur flying.

The next second, the oval, with its limbs tucked in, perked up two large, misty-blue ears that resembled those of a cat or a rabbit. It shook them twice, finally allowing people to make out its head amid the long, fluffy fur.

Its eyes were round and glossy, black with hints of blue, like gems.

Its chubby cheeks and dainty pink three-petaled mouth embodied an absolute “cuteness” that struck straight at the human heart, perfectly fitting the definition of adorable.

But rabbits were creatures with quite a temper.

Disturbed from its sweet sleep, it lifted its hind legs and stomped repeatedly on the bed, producing rhythmic thud thud thud sounds. Each stomp was forceful, expressing its fury.

Yet it was so overwhelmingly cute that it held zero intimidation.

The tip of its ear was brushed by something, tickling it. It keenly whipped its head around to bite, but caught nothing, which only made it angrier.

Bad System! Bad System! Bad System!!!

It raged in its mind.

Once the rabbit had vented enough, the System dropped half a basin of dried Timothy Grass and vegetables into the stainless steel bowl at the foot of the bed and filled the water bowl with warm water. “You said last night that you wanted me to wake you for breakfast.”

“…”

Zhong Nian gradually recalled that, while being lulled to sleep by the System’s bedtime story the night before, he had indeed said it himself. Knowing he was in the wrong, he quietly swallowed his morning grumpiness.

He hopped obediently off the bed and charged toward the food in the bowl. Though its three-petaled mouth looked like it would make eating difficult, he devoured it quickly. In no time, the bowl was empty.

It had to be said that items bought with points were top-notch.

Not only could he get whatever food he wanted, but it was all the freshest and most delicious. Zhong Nian was very satisfied.

It had been a long time since he’d eaten rabbit food, and it really had a unique flavor.

After eating his fill, he stretched out his pink little tongue to lap up a few mouthfuls of warm water.

Then he bounced onto the bed to straighten it out.

Using his nose, he carefully nudged the wrinkles in the covers flat and straightened the slightly askew food bowl. Once done, he felt a bit tired and flopped flat onto the bed, looking like a furry slipper.

As he lay there, he grew drowsy again.

Just as he was about to fall asleep, the annoying System voice rang out once more: “Don’t sleep. Do something else.”

Ever since clearing the Newbie Dungeon, Zhong Nian had been sent to the Player Rest Area—his personal space. Aside from using points to buy items and remodel the house, he had spent most of his time sleeping.

The door was right there. Opening it would automatically teleport him to the Player Public Area, where bustling streets and scenic parks offered players places to socialize and entertain themselves, fulfilling all sorts of needs.

Players who had endured high-pressure environments where death could come at any moment often emerged to splurge their hard-earned points in a frenzy of consumption, indulging until their rest time ran out and they were forced into the next nightmare.

There were plenty like Zhong Nian, holing up in their rooms—players whose minds had broken, rejecting all contact with the outside world. Once their sanity crumbled, they naturally didn’t last long in the next game.

“You should go out for a walk,” the System advised him.

The flattened rabbit kicked its legs: “No.”

“…Staying cooped up like this, you’ll just keep thinking about the last game.”

The System, which accompanied him every moment, knew that Zhong Nian had been downcast and sullen ever since emerging.

Yesterday, the System had even taken the initiative to exchange points for a Lamp Ball.

Once activated, it filled the entire room with a dreamy, starry sky.

But unexpectedly, seeing it worsened Zhong Nian’s mood, and he had nightmares that night.

In his dream, the little furball curled into a ball twitched and shuddered, though it was unclear what he dreamed of.

When the System woke him, he murmured in a daze, “He forgot to tell me his name.”

The System didn’t understand. Wasn’t it just an NPC? Was it worth obsessing over even in dreams?

“If you don’t want to go out, how about I play ball with you?”

A Yellow Small Ball appeared out of thin air in the room, bouncing on the floor. Just as it was about to lose momentum, an invisible force caught it and tossed it high again.

“You Bad System, using points that players worked so hard for to buy toys! I’ll let it slide this time, but no next time…” After lecturing it, Zhong Nian kicked off with his hind legs, dashed out to chase the rolling ball, picked it up in his mouth, and placed it in the center of the floor before backing up to gather momentum.

“Again! Again!”

The Yellow Small Ball flew once more, and the blue-and-white rabbit sprang after it like a coiled spring. They repeated the game…

Until his energy was utterly spent. Zhong Nian collapsed into a rabbit pancake, panting with his pink tongue lolling out.

The System changed tactics, slowly rolling the small ball toward his paws. Zhong Nian nudged it away with a paw. When the System rolled it back, he nudged it again…

The one System and one rabbit went back and forth like this for a long time until Zhong Nian pinned the ball under his belly and nestled atop it.

“I’m tired. Let’s play tomorrow!” The rabbit, having played to his heart’s content, was in much better spirits. He began squatting to groom his fur and wash his face, grumbling under his breath, “You Systems are something else, needing players to play ball with you. So demanding.”

The System: “…”

Over these past couple of days, the System had been unusually chatty, always talking to him—unlike before, when it rarely appeared unless called. Now, it felt more and more like a living being.

Even though its mechanical voice remained cold and flat, one could occasionally detect hints of helplessness or gentleness.

And in this Player Rest Area, the System’s authority was greater. It could manifest as an invisible entity, touch the player, and control objects in the space.

It prepared rabbit food and warm water for him, watched over his three meals a day, wouldn’t let him sleep all the time, and urged him to get up and exercise.

At night, besides telling bedtime stories, it would pat his back if he had nightmares.

The rabbit knew that the System often sneaked touches to his ears while he slept.

Rabbit ears weren’t for just anyone to touch willy-nilly!

He wanted to bite it but couldn’t, so he could only rage impotently at the air, stomping his feet or smashing his food bowl at most to vent.

“Time for lunch.”

Clatter—

The stainless steel bowl filled with food. Zhong Nian rushed over and crunched through half of it before suddenly feeling it tasteless.

“I want a Little Cake,” he said to the System.

The System was about to exchange points for one when the blue-and-white rabbit on the spot vanished, replaced by a slender, strikingly handsome youth.

He turned to look at the bright, sunny weather outside the window and said to the System, “Let’s go out and buy one. I wonder if the cakes outside are even better.”

The System paused, then immediately replied, “Okay.”

It hurried to dress the youth, afraid he might change his mind.

He’d been cooped up so long he was turning into a moldy rabbit.