I was back in my cubicle, the meager sustenance of the crushed protein bar doing little to fight the internal damage. The [Mental Strain] debuff was a catastrophe.
Debuff: [Mental Strain] Source: Willpower Overload (Telekinetic Smash attempt). Effect: -50% Coding Efficiency. Duration: 2:50:00 (approx.).
My high [Intelligence] (7) was being butchered. The simplest lines of code were fuzzy, like reading a monitor through oil-smeared glasses. I had to start Project Phoenix, but every line took twice the effort, and the exhaustion was immediate.
I pulled up the project files. The sheer complexity of the un-debugged code was terrifying. It was a chaotic soup of variables and poorly labeled functions.
Action: [Coding (C)] Attempt: Debug 5 lines of Function Alpha. Result (Base): 2 lines debugged per minute. Result (Debuff Applied): 1 line debugged per minute.
I slammed my head lightly on the desk. "Unacceptable," I muttered. The deadline didn't care that I'd had a psychic headache from fighting a vending machine.
I cannot brute force this. I need a System Bypass.
I accessed my new [Social Camouflage (F)] skill. It was designed to help me blend in, but I needed a way to use it internally.
Skill Query: Can [Social Camouflage] be applied to a negative internal state? Result: Highly inefficient. Suggest combining with high [Willpower] for emotional suppression, not cognitive function repair.
I looked at my current [Willpower] stat: [1/3] (Temporarily Restored). I couldn't risk depleting it again.
Okay, Kaito. Think like a hacker. The debuff is a line of code in the System. I can't delete the line, but I can distract the System from running the loop.
I opened a new, blank document on my second monitor. I decided to dedicate my next hour to a pure, mindless grind of a different skill.
New Sub-Quest: Skill Focus Drill Objective: Hit 10% progress in a non-coding skill to temporarily override the [Mental Strain] focus penalty. Target Skill: [Telekinetic Hold (E)]
The plan was simple: use my restored Stamina to train Telekinesis. If the System was busy processing the new XP, maybe it would temporarily ignore the "Mental Strain" loop.
I reached for the cheapest, most abundant item on my desk: loose paperclips.
I activated [Telekinetic Hold (E)]. The control was much better now that my [Dexterity] was 6. I didn't need to struggle with one cup; I could manage a tiny, organized swarm.
I closed my eyes and focused on lifting fifty paperclips, arranging them into a tiny, perfect pyramid.
Clink, clink, clink.
The clips lifted, forming a miniature metal monument on my desk. The energy drain was steady but manageable.
[Stamina]: 4/10 $\rightarrow$ 3/10
[Telekinetic Hold (E)]: 1% Progress.
I held the pyramid for twenty seconds, pushing my limit, and then let them drop.
I repeated the process. Lift. Hold. Drop. The rhythmic, simple application of my power was surprisingly therapeutic.
Five minutes into the grind, my headache began to recede, not because the debuff was gone, but because my mind was concentrating entirely on the external, measurable, psychic task.
System Response: Cognitive focus has been redirected to [Skill Focus Drill]. [Mental Strain] Debuff: Temporarily suspended (Coding Efficiency restored to 100%). Duration: While [Telekinetic Hold] remains active.
I did it! I found an exploit! I couldn't permanently fix the debuff, but by continuously running a low-cost Telekinesis program in the background, I could distract the main CPU (my brain) from the negative status effect.
I immediately stopped the paperclip pyramid and jumped back to the Project Phoenix code.
Action: [Coding (C)] Attempt: Debug 5 lines of Function Alpha. Result (Debuff Suspended): 2 lines debugged per minute.
Success! I was working at full capacity again. The only cost was that I had to keep a tiny, active, invisible Telekinesis shield running on something at all times—a low-cost [DoT (Damage over Time)] on my Stamina.
I looked around the office. What could I constantly hold with minimal Stamina cost and minimal risk of exposure?
My eyes settled on the object most often ignored: my keyboard's spacebar.
I channeled a minuscule amount of energy into the spacebar, applying barely enough Telekinetic force to hold it down by a fraction of a micron—a tiny, constant pressure that the System registered as an active [Telekinetic Hold (E)] loop.
Action: [Telekinetic Hold (E)] on Spacebar. Cost: 0.2 [Stamina Points] per minute. Effect: [Mental Strain] Suspended.
With my mind clear, and a tiny bit of power perpetually flowing into my keyboard, I hit the start button on my code editor.
Day one, four hours remaining.
Project Phoenix Progress: 0%
Objective: Deliver fully debugged code.
I had found my flow state. The next four hours were a blur of focused debugging, fueled by the tiny drain of my spacebar shield and the slow regeneration of my Stamina. The office, once a source of terror, was now just a quiet vessel for my rapid growth.
I grinned, typing furiously. Level 2 was ready for the grind.