Chapter 495: Anti-Addiction System
Chapter 495: Anti-Addiction System
Wade was idly scanning the room’s decorations, his chin resting on his hand. Sensing a movement, he turned his head, eyebrows slightly raised in surprise.
Although one could easily exit a daydream, Nick Lamer’s quick return from his first custom daydream caught Wade off guard. He then realized that Lamer wouldn’t indulge in a true daydream with his guest sitting right beside him. He probably just wrote a simple one, like a stroll on a beach.
But then he saw a tear slide from the corner of the old man’s eye, rolling down his pale skin before Lamer wiped it away.
“It was a nice dream... a wonderful invention,” Lamer said, somewhat melancholic. “I saw some old friends... those times are truly unforgettable.”
Wade asked, puzzled, “I thought you would... well, reminisce for a bit longer.”
“I don’t dare to get lost in it,” Lamer replied, carefully placing the quill back in its box and patting the lid. “I’m afraid I might get too addicted and never want to return to reality.”
“It can only last for thirty minutes,” Wade pointed out.
“But after one thirty-minute session, there will be a second, a third, and countless more until the end of one’s life.”
Lamer looked into Wade’s clear eyes and smiled. “You’re still young. If you’ve lost as many important people as I have, you’d understand the danger of such dreams.”
Wade fell silent.
He, too, had lost important people.
When the Daydream Quill was first created, he was its first user. He wove all sorts of dreams, and for a couple of days, he was entirely engrossed, not wanting to wake up.
But after that phase, he woke from his last dream and felt an overwhelming emptiness. His emotions were as blank as a beach after the tide had receded, his heart a desolate silence. He didn’t even want to touch the Daydream Quill again.
It reminded him of a summer during high school when he was obsessed with video games. His parents let him play without restrictions. After weeks of non-stop gaming, he suddenly felt a profound sense of futility, even guilt, as if all the time and energy he had invested had been swallowed by an invisible black hole.
Looking back, he couldn’t understand why he had been so engrossed or what he had gained beyond a few numbers in the game. The excitement and thrill had faded, and even the memories of the game were hazy. All that remained was the question, “Where did all the time go?”
Since then, he never got addicted to games again, only occasionally playing to pass the time when bored.
The Daydream Quill was the same.
Under the influence of magic, even in dreams, he knew everything was false. Loving and caring parents, a vibrant school life, wealth, beauty, status, great power, adventures in other worlds, and conversations with historical figures—all were illusions woven by magic, and each dream lasted no more than thirty minutes. Each time he woke up, a sense of loss and emptiness washed over him.
Moreover, it was difficult to continue one dream seamlessly into another. If he wanted to, he had to write detailed, lengthy descriptions for each dream, which not only consumed a lot of ink but also drained his enthusiasm for entering the dream.
Some might nest in these illusions like drinking poison to quench thirst, but Wade felt a deep revulsion and fatigue, not wanting to continue.
In his view, it was a process of desensitization, not as challenging as Nick Lamer believed.
Noticing the hint of disagreement in Wade’s eyes, Lamer said, “Wade, I remember you have a partnership with a magic shop?”
“Yes,” Wade replied. “It’s Aslan’s Magic Workshop in Marquioni.”
“Are you in need of money, my boy?”
“No, I’m quite well-off.”
“Then... perhaps it’s presumptuous of me...” Lamer said slowly. “Can you refrain from selling these quills in the shop?”
Wade said, “I don’t mind not making money... but why? The Daydream Spell is a common one, known by many.”
“How can a random dream compare to a personalized one?”
Lamer sighed. “Most people aren’t as clear-headed and rational as you. For them, the Daydream Quill is more dangerous than drugs.”
“Alright, I can agree to that,” Wade said. “But I think it can also be used for good, like helping people with mental illnesses, allowing those who have lost loved ones to see them again, alleviating their grief, or even for learning and practical training.”
Lamer smiled faintly. “Of course, imagination materialization is a double-edged sword, with both positive and negative aspects. The key is how people use it.”
He thought for a moment and added, “Perhaps we shouldn’t simply ban the Daydream Quill. We could add some restrictions... can I offer some suggestions, my boy?”
Wade immediately replied, “Of course, it would be an honor.”
Isn’t it just an anti-addiction system? He was quite familiar with it.
Wade said, “We can use a Chimeric Structure to add a usage limit, making the Daydream Quill enter a dormant state after three uses, only reactivating after at least twenty-four hours.”
“Not enough. Enthusiastic users will just buy more quills,” Lamer said. “We need a spell that can sense the user’s emotional and mental state. When the user is deeply immersed, it should turn the dream into a nightmare, forcing them to wake up.”
“Not a good idea... this thing might be used for patients with mental illnesses. Sudden shocks could worsen their conditions,” Wade objected.
Lamer thought about it. “What if we make the dream boring?”
“A boring dream...” Wade stroked his chin, his eyes lighting up with a mischievous smile. “How about turning it into an exam? Endless exams, all with extremely difficult questions, impossible to solve.”
“An exam?” Nick Lamer fell silent for a while before bursting into laughter. “That’s... brilliant...”
He and Wade exchanged glances, their wrinkles filled with a cunning and anticipatory gleam.
(End of Chapter)
Chapter end
Report
