I Was Reincarnated as a Dungeon, So What? I Just Want to Take a Nap. Chapter 64: The Champion Napper

With our tournant arena—the single most comfortable room in the history of the world—now complete, we faced our next great challenge. We needed an adventurer to compete in it.

FaeLina took charge of drafting the official notice for the Guild Bulletin Board. Her first draft was a nightmare of official jargon she had clearly learned from her ti studying the DLRB rulebook.

​’Seeking one (1) certified adventurer for a high-stakes competitive relaxation trial,’ she had written in her mind. ’Candidate must exhibit a docunted history of achieving profound states of slumber and possess a tranquil aura asurable by a qualified Royal Enchanter.’

​’FaeLina,’ I had projected, my ntal voice flat. ’You’re trying to hire a napper, not a royal minister. Let’s try that again, but in a language normal people can understand.’

After a lengthy and spirited debate, we settled on a much simpler version.

[CHAMPION SOUGHT! The Comfy Corner is seeking one (1) highly skilled adventurer to represent our Sanctuary in the ’Most Innovative Adventurer Experience’ category at the 114th Royal Dungeon League Tournant.]

[TASK: Successfully take a nap in our state-of-the-art Chamber of Slumber while being judged.]

[REQUIRED SKILLS: Ability to relax under pressure, an appreciation for fine linens, and professional-level sleeping capabilities.]

[REWARD: A generous paynt in gold and eternal glory as the world’s first officially recognized professional napper.]

I was secretly hoping no one would apply, giving a perfect excuse to forfeit the tournant and get back to my own napping.

Unfortunately, the notice was a huge hit. The next morning, a line of hopefull candidates had ford.It goes all the way up the spiral staircase from the Chamber of Slumber on the third floor, through the Hibernation Hollows on the second, and spilled out into the main lobby. The auditions were a complete and utter disaster.

Our first candidate was a mountain sized man, a barbarian nad Grog who was covered in impressive scars and muscles. "I’m the best sleeper there is!" he roared, shaking the whole dungeon. "After a good battle, I can sleep for three days straight!"

We led him to the perfect bed. He lay down, the dream essence mattress sighing under his imnse weight. And then... he just lay there, his eyes squeezed shut so tight his face was turning purple. His entire body was a board of tense muscle, his hands twitching for an imaginary axe.

After ten minutes of this agonizing effort, he sat bolt upright in frustration. "It’s too quiet in here!" he bellowed. "How is anyone supposed to sleep without the distant screams of their enemies and the comforting sll of blood? I can’t sleep under these conditions!"

Result: FAIL.

And FaeLina made a small note on her clipboard: "Candidate is physically incapable of relaxing."

Our second candidate was a nervous rogue from the Shadow Stalkers guild. He was convinced that our whole thing was an elaborate trap. He first spent twenty minutes checking under the bed for pressure plates. He then insisted on tasting "Zazu’s Nightcap" for poison test and When he finally lay down, he couldn’t able close his eyes.

"What happens when I fall asleep?" he whispered nervously to the empty room, eyeing a nearby Pillow Fiend with deep suspicion. "Does the bed eat ? Do the pillows co alive and suffocate ? Is this lullaby a secret hypnotic suggestion to make reveal my secret lockpicking techniques?"

Result: FAIL .

FaeLina’s note: "Candidate’s paranoia levels are incompatible with our brand."

Our third candidate was a high elf mage from a prestigious academy. She glided into the Chamber of Slumber, her nose held high. She was impressed by the magic, but far too critical to actually relax.

"Hmm, the thread count on these moon-silk sheets is impressive," she noted, "but is the silk ethically sourced from free-range moon-moths? The ambient lavender is a bit on-the-nose for a sleep aid, don’t you think?" She then pulled out a crystal tuner and asured the frequency of the Whispering Chis. "The harmonic resonance is a bit flat. It’s not optimal for deep-state ditation."

Result: FAIL and usual FaeLina’s note: "Candidate is too snobby to nap."

By midday, FaeLina was in despair. "They’re all terrible!" she groaned, psychically. "They’re either too violent, too paranoid, or too critical to relax! We’re never going to find anyone! Our dream of competitive napping is dead!"

As she fall in despair, Just then, a familiar, tired figure shuffled into the Chamber of Slumber. It was Zazu. He wasn’t there for an audition; he had just co to admire the room’s peaceful atmosphere. He looked at the perfect bed, a look of deep, profound longing on his face.

"Core," he said, his voice quiet and full of hope. "They are all trying to achieve sleep. To conquer it. But that is not the way. Rest is sothing you must surrender to." He turned his gaze to . "I know I am a mber of your staff, but... may I try?"

FaeLina was about to object—’He works here! We need an outsider!’—but I silenced her with a thought. He was perfect.

Zazu was an officially registered adventurer with the Iron Gryphons, so he was a valid competitor. He had personally experienced my healing magic and understood it better than anyone. And most importantly, he was the most genuinely tired and appreciative person in the entire kingdom. His nap wouldn’t be a performance. It would be an authentic masterpiece.

He gratefully accepted a cup of his own "Nightcap" tea, read a single, calming page from one of Pip’s old storybooks, and lay down on the dream essence bed.

He then fall asleep in under a minute. He didn’t twitch. He didn’t snore. His face was a picture of perfect, blissful serenity.

A new type of notification appeared in my consciousness.

[NAP QUALITY: 100/100 (Legendary)]

[User is experiencing a ’Perfectly Restorative Slumber’.]

[Dungeon-wide ’Tranquility’ aura has increased by 10% due to reflected coziness.]

We had found him. We had found our champion.

FaeLina stared at the sleeping elf, a determined glint appearing in her eyes.

"Okay," she said, her voice now filled with the fire of a true coach. "He’s perfect. Now we just have to train him to be able to do that in the middle of a screaming stadium full of thousands of people, with a panel of grumpy judges watching his every breath."

Our next challenge had just beco clear: stage fright.