By now, he was ninety percent certain that he was the writer in this story.
"Go on! Quick, keep going!" Yin Junchi was getting into it.
Wen Xishu continued:
"Don't rush. The writer soon moved into... room 14-1."
"Soon after moving in, he discovered that, inspiration aside, he seemed to crave work more and more."
"It was as though something was absorbing his laziness."
"He struggled to adjust at first. As a bestselling author, he ought to be lazy, of course."
"That was how he'd always thought. I can't work too hard. That would make me look like a workhorse, no different from those webnovel authors who win through constant updates."
"But after coming here, he couldn't sleep at all. His desire to work gradually crowded out his reason. With part of the original sin of sloth drained away, he began to grow diligent."
"He hadn't yet realized that his sloth was also part of what made him himself. He was delighted by the apartment's miraculous effect."
"But deep down, he also wondered... how could something so unscientific exist? Could it be the magnetic field? Were there really places in this world that made people hardworking? Like prisons in the land of kangaroos?"
"Anyway, he became very diligent. He started reading that newspaper about strange tales over and over. In the past, he'd glance through newspapers for inspiration and then throw them away."
"But this time, he read it many times."
Yin Junchi felt as though someone had installed a camera in his apartment. He felt violated.
Yet he wanted to hear how this story continued:
"Keep talking!"
Wen Xishu said:
"He threw himself into his work. But at that point, he didn't know that on six other floors, six other people had become part of the sacrifice, just like