Each task seems very simple.
All Linus had to do was press the button, and then all he had to do was wait for the loading bar to finish.
Yet these seemingly simple things are interwoven to form an extremely complex network of actions.
Each seemingly simple task often requires him to devote a great deal of energy to complete.
Furthermore, a significant portion of this content requires extremely long periods of uninterrupted gameplay to complete.
Take agriculture, for example.
The gameplay seems very simple; all you need to do is select the seeds you have, plant them in your field, Linus doesn't need to do anything else.
But it takes a full 120 minutes to harvest the seeds, such as potatoes.
This is simply absurd for a video game.
Although Linus had never actually played the game " Story of Seasons," he did have some understanding of it.
In that game, the game would proceed to the next day as soon as the protagonist went to bed.
Crops also grow on a daily basis.
This makes crop growth in Story of Seasons seem time-consuming, but not tedious.
Spend in-game time to save real-world time.
This game, however, is not designed that way.
Linus stared at the countdown for a long time.
This thing actually counts according to real time.
In other words, you really have to hang it up for two hours to harvest it.
Isn't this ridiculous?
Linus smacked his lips, suddenly feeling a bit bored.
It seems I'm not cut out for video games.
He had thought that GAMENOVA might actually have the power to make him fall in love with video games.
But now it seems I was overthinking it.
Shaking his head, he simply clicked on the [Lumberjacking] tab, letting the game run in the background and automatically chop down trees.
He himself went straight back to the PC and continued what he hadn't finished.
Developing and tweaking software is a very time-consuming process.
Linus sat there for the entire afternoon.
Between each small task, he would casually pick up the controller and tap it.
Once the wood was almost chopped up, I switched to the [Start a Fire] tab and burned some wood.
Alternatively, you could change it to [Mining] and let it collect more bronze materials.
Linus would tap it every now and then, and otherwise treat it as a music player.
While keeping an eye on the constantly looping progress bar out of the corner of his eye, he also used the game's excellent background music to aid his development work.
After an afternoon of this, Linus suddenly realized—
This game----
There's actually some truth to that.
It wasn't exactly fun, but it gave him a very strange feeling.
For some reason, he really wanted it to hang there.
Although Linus wasn't playing it.
It wasn't until evening, after finishing his work for the entire day, that he casually turned off the game and went to bed.
During the Christmas holidays, Linus doesn't usually have any university classes to attend.
Aside from necessary social outings, he spends most of his time indoors doing development work that interests him.
The following morning.
Linus got up as usual, washed up, had breakfast, and then sat down at the PC.
But just as development was about to begin, Linus suddenly stopped.
He actually felt a little unwell.
I feel terrible all over!
It's like something's not quite right if ZorkIDLE isn't hanging next to me.
Without the game that was constantly reading the notes beside him, Linus suddenly felt a tingling, itchy sensation all over his body.
"That's strange."
He found it difficult to describe the feeling.
This is a very complex emotion.
There are unconscious needs formed by habit, and there is also the brainwashing effect of the amazing background music of "ZorkIDLE".
But there was one more thing that even he found somewhat inexplicable.
Linus felt that if he didn't leave the game running during his free time, he would be wasting all that precious time.
I casually opened NovaXeno.
[Loading your offline progress, please wait----]
[Calculate remaining offline time: 6h41m29s (maximum: 8h)]
"Ha?"
Linus was momentarily stunned to see a large lump of wood suddenly appear in his warehouse.
"Offline time? This game is played even when I'm not playing it?"
This game not only doesn't require you to play it manually, it even plays automatically when you're not actively playing it!
That's outrageous!
"Hanging up [Astrology] will increase skill experience for [Lumberjacking] and [Farming]? Not bad, I'll hang up on that today."
Seeing that this tab didn't have any material requirements, Linus simply added it.
Then, naturally, they plunged headfirst into today's development work.
With ZorkIDLE hanging next to it, that subtle sense of incongruity definitely disappeared.
Everything returned to the smooth, flowing state it was in yesterday.
Linus enjoyed the process.
He breaks down complex development work into smaller tasks, and in between each task, he casually taps the game a couple of times.
Absolutely perfect!
The deeper Linus went into the game, the more surprised he became.
This is a game designed for someone as busy as him; it's a genius idea!
He's more of a commander than a player.
He only needs to formulate an action plan, and the game itself will handle everything else for him.
All I have to do is nothing.
As time passes naturally, the game will progress.
He can even turn off the game while he's sleeping, and the game will save his offline time and include it in the rewards.
The maximum offline time of eight hours is just enough for him to get a good night's sleep.
How thoughtful!
Let it hang there; there's nothing else to do.
As another day passed, Linus suddenly realized that he seemed to have become somewhat addicted to the game.
During the day, I'd leave the game running, listening to background music and working on development. Before going to sleep, I'd review the day's progress, quickly clear a couple of monsters to clean up the map, and then apply the necessary skills before shutting down and going to bed.
The longer he kept hanging, the deeper Linus felt his bond with the game became.
But what truly terrified him was the game's ceiling.
He can't see it.
Even though he had been suspended for two whole days, his progress in various skills was still very limited.
As I watched helplessly as the supplies in my Backpack grew and the number of zeros increased, just when I thought the length of the characters was about to exceed the grid, the game suddenly changed the unit.
thousand, million, billion, trillion..--
It's getting more and more numerous, yet there's no end to it.
Linus suddenly understood what this large-scale chip was used for.
A game with rapidly increasing numerical values that becomes more and more exaggerated and exciting definitely needs a chip like this.
Watching those numbers grow increasingly alarming, I don't know why...
Linus suddenly felt a bit good.
No, it's not just a little bit enjoyable.
It was so awesome, so incredibly awesome!
It was so good it made my brain tremble!
Absolutely right, that's exactly the feeling of numerical inflation I've been looking for!