A hotel of such enormous scale, and one modeled after a literary medium, should have had a gym as a standard facility. Yet before Yi Chen made the request, the hotel had not set up a gym at all.
The reason was simple.
Most guests who checked into the hotel would become lazy,
and that laziness increased exponentially as time passed. Forget exercise—even going out for a meal required a great deal of thought, and they needed to lay a solid psychological foundation before they could take action.
According to the hotel's current "billing" statistics,
around 71.9% of the guests had reached the Long Dream state. They lay in bed forever, and after remaining still for so long, they could no longer even perform the most basic act of turning over. They had fused perfectly with their mattresses.
Their arms could emerge from anywhere on the mattress, allowing them to open doors, receive delivered meals, and feed themselves.
Even the organs responsible for metabolic waste had evolved to extend and retract freely to lengths of over ten meters. They could twist open the bathroom door themselves and dispose of waste from a distance.
Those in the Long Dream state slept for at least twenty hours a day, dreaming long dreams in an absolutely tranquil and comfortable environment. Their brains had consequently grown larger and taken on a barrel-like shape, spiraling up to connect with the ceiling. They could even link up with the guests next door to dream together, their faces forever covered in smiles.
The remaining guests were also gradually transforming into the Long Dream state.
Therefore, a gym was completely unnecessary for a hotel whose essence was based on "a certain kind of evil," so the manager had eliminated it.
Individuals like Yi Chen, unaffected by "returning home,"