I died doing what I loved—absolutely nothing.
It was a peaceful Tuesday night. I'd just started episode 37 of "Legend of the Eternal Flame God Emperor of Endless Tribulations"—a cultivation drama with a name longer than its plot. Slumped on my couch, cup noodles half-cooked, Wi-Fi buffering every three minutes. The main character screamed something about transcending samsara through fiery will or whatever, and the next thing I knew…
Darkness.
Then a headache.
Then chickens.
I opened my eyes to the sight of a thatched roof falling apart at the seams and the distinct smell of mildew, rice wine, and regret. Somewhere outside, a rooster crowed like it had unpaid taxes.
"...Huh?" I croaked. My voice sounded younger. Fresher. Less like someone who'd worked 72 straight hours fixing JavaScript bugs.
I sat up on a rough straw mattress. My back didn't hurt. My usual stress-induced neck kink? Gone.
I looked at my hands. Slim. Uncalloused. Delicate even.
Someone had clearly made a mistake.
"Congratulations, Disciple Kaito!" A nasal voice rang through the air. I turned my head—slowly, like a man uncertain whether he was hallucinating from MSG poisoning—and saw a lanky man in threadbare robes and crooked teeth.
"You've successfully reincarnated into the Broken Heaven Sect!" he said, spreading his arms like this was good news. "You may now begin your journey along the Dao of Supreme Transcendental Ascension!"
There was a pause.
Then I blinked. "The what of what now?"
"Ascension!" he beamed. "Cultivation! Immortality! And as your senior brother, it is my solemn duty to guide you—"
"Pass," I said, lying back down.
"Eh?"
"I've worked enough overtime in my last life. If this is heaven, I'm sleeping in."
The senior brother's smile cracked. "But... cultivation! Eternal life! Power that shakes the heavens!"
"Do I get dental?"
"Wha—? N-no?"
"Then I'm good. Wake me when the noodles are done."
I heard him sputter, then stomp off shouting something about disrespect and laziness and possibly ghosts. I stopped listening somewhere after the words "mandatory early-morning sword drills."
Ten Hours Later
I woke up again to the sound of someone pounding on a rusty gong like it owed them money.
I reluctantly peeled myself off the mattress and stepped outside, blinking into the daylight.
The Broken Heaven Sect was… well, it lived up to its name. A dozen crooked buildings clung to a mountain slope like stubborn fungi. One pavilion had completely collapsed. A goat was chewing on a cultivation manual. A sign at the entrance had three words painted over in red ink:
"NOT ACTUALLY CLOSED."
At the base of the steps stood a dozen or so other disciples in ragged robes, ranging from confused to clinically depressed. Among them was the lanky Senior Brother, now wielding a cracked bamboo pointer.
"Line up!" he barked. "Time for orientation! You will recite the Broken Heaven Sect's core principles!"
Everyone groaned. One guy faked a seizure. A girl in the back threw up a rice bun.
I yawned.
Senior Brother pointed at me. "You! Newcomer! Lead the chant!"
I cleared my throat.
"Number one: Don't die.Number two: If you're gonna die, die where no one can see.Number three: If the Heavenly Bureaucracy asks, we are a potato farming cooperative."
There was silence. Then someone clapped. Then someone else cheered. And just like that, I became popular.
System Alert: You have gained affinity with the Dao of Slack.
Path unlocked: Casual Cultivator+1 to Inertia. +10 to Napping Efficiency.Qi flows better when lying down. Try reclining on uneven surfaces for maximum effect.
I blinked at the blue floating text.
"No way," I muttered. "I got a cheat skill… for doing nothing?"
Later That Evening
I found a quiet hill to lie on. My fellow disciples were still sweating through sword drills, led by a one-eyed instructor who called everything a "useless worm."
I laid down under a tree, crossed my arms behind my head, and stared at the clouds.
Then… I felt something. A warm, swirling energy around my chest. It wasn't intense or fiery like in the dramas. It was soft. Gentle. Like the universe gave me a warm blanket and said, "Here, buddy. Take a nap. You've earned it."
I felt my meridians loosen. My breathing slowed. A stream of Qi spiraled into me like lazy smoke.
System Alert: You have entered Enlightened Nap State.
Spiritual Level: Trash Disciple (Peak)Next Level: "Barely Adequate Cultivator"
A loud crash interrupted my meditation. I sat up just as a girl stumbled over a bush nearby.
She had dirt on her cheek, a chipped wooden sword, and the look of someone deeply regretting her life decisions.
"Are you... sleeping? During mandatory meditation hour?" she hissed.
I gave her a thumbs-up. "Cultivating. Super hard. Real profound stuff."
"You—you're the new guy, right? The lazy one."
"I prefer the term Dao-efficient."
She squinted. "You're a disgrace."
"Probably."
She opened her mouth to yell again… then stopped. Her eyes narrowed as she stared at me.
"You're glowing."
I looked at my hands. They were faintly shimmering with Qi.
"Don't ask me how," I said. "I think I absorbed a cloud by accident."
Later Later That Evening
Senior Brother ran into my room.
"Kaito! Someone saw you cultivating! The Sect Master wants to see you!"
"Oh no," I said. "What did I do?"
"You cultivated. Successfully. In this sect, that's practically a crime!"
"...Cool."
Scene: Broken Heaven Sect's 'Grand Hall' (aka someone's old wine cellar)
Sect Master Grumblebeard sat cross-legged on a broken wine barrel, holding a chicken.
"So," he rasped. "You're the boy who cultivated by sleeping."
"Yup."
"Any idea how?"
"Nope."
"Good," he nodded. "We'll say it was fate."
"What do you want from me?"
"Nothing. In fact, do less. Be useless. Draw no attention."
I blinked. "That… actually works for me."
Grumblebeard leaned closer, whispering, "There's a reason this sect exists. We're a hiding place. For failures. Runaways. People too dangerous or too dumb for the big sects."
He looked tired. Really tired.
"Keep cultivating in your way, Kaito. But do it quietly. Or Heaven will notice."
As I left the hall, a thought struck me.
I used to work 14-hour days under flickering lights, answering emails at 3 AM for bosses who forgot my name.
Now?
I nap under trees. I glow a little.
And for the first time in years…
I breathe.