Sam woke up on his 600-square-metre bed.

His vacant eyes stared at the enormous crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling. Composed of 1,239,800 premium crystals, the chandelier shimmered with a luxurious glow under the sunlight.

Gradually, his gaze sharpened, though a faint trace of fatigue lingered in his otherwise calm expression.

Suddenly, a sense of suffocation crept into his chest, as if something heavy was pressing on him. Frowning slightly, he raised his head. What greeted his eyes was a gleaming white leg—long, smooth, and perfectly shaped.

With a furrowed brow, Sam pushed the leg aside. The owner of the leg rolled over, her pouty red lips forming a dissatisfied curve as she mumbled and continued to sleep.

A few strands of black hair slid off her face, revealing features so breathtakingly beautiful they seemed otherworldly. Even the slight trail of glistening drool at the corner of her lips didn't mar her perfection.

Faced with such beauty, Sam's heart remained completely unmoved. After all, women like her? He had eleven more.

And those eleven were sprawled haphazardly across the same massive 600-square-metre bed, their presence filling the air with a sweet, lingering fragrance.

If anyone else were here, they would undoubtedly be stunned to discover that these twelve women were all top-tier celebrities, supermodels, and campus queens.

Sam's gaze swept over the dozen exquisite figures, finally settling on a woman with a face as pure and innocent as a first love. Reaching out, he extended his hand towards her.

Bang!

The pure-faced campus queen was shoved aside, rolling twice across the bed.

The commotion naturally woke her up. She blinked her large, bewildered eyes, her face still wearing the dazed expression of someone freshly pulled from slumber.

Sam ignored her completely. Instead, he reached for the book that had been trapped beneath her moments earlier.

The book, still warm to the touch, bore the title: Practical Guide to Clinical Hypnosis.

Flipping to page 128, bold letters leapt out at him: "How to Use Voice, Props, and Gestures for Hypnotic Suggestions."

Sam immersed himself in the text, his focus unwavering as he delved into the intricacies of hypnotic techniques.

Meanwhile, the twelve stunning women gradually woke up one by one, their chatter and playful laughter filling the room.

A woman with an exotic allure sauntered over, her voice teasingly sweet. "Husband~, stop reading. Isn't watching us more enjoyable than looking at some book? Heehee…"

Her coquettish remark prompted giggles from the others, their laughter blending into a chorus of flirtation.

But a flicker of irritation passed across Sam's face. With a casual snap of his fingers—

Snap!

It was as though he had pressed an invisible switch. The entire space descended into an eerie silence, the women's laughter halting abruptly, as if stolen from their throats.

An inexplicable force swept through the room, like an invisible eraser softly gliding over the scene.

Whoosh!

The twelve stunning women vanished into thin air, leaving Sam alone in the expansive room. The only sound that remained was the soft rustle of pages turning.

Two hours later, Sam tossed the book aside, a faint frown on his face. "The entire book only has a few useful tricks. The rest is just rubbish."

Bang!

He collapsed heavily onto the bed. His slender body sank into the soft mattress, and the weariness in his eyes deepened.

It wasn't the kind of fatigue born of exertion. Instead, it carried the peculiar quality of a nobleman drowning in opulence—an ennui that lingers after every desire has been indulged.

"This life... is utterly boring," Sam muttered to himself. "Am I really destined to die of such monotony?"

The empty room gave no reply.

For a long while, silence reigned.

"Forget it. I'll watch something."

He rose and walked over to the massive floor-to-ceiling window near the television. The bright glass reflected a face that was both delicate and strikingly handsome. His angular features, deep-set eyes as dark as polished onyx, and the faint glow of an ethereal charm made him look like a character stepped out of a painting.

However, his beauty wasn't without flaws. His frame was too thin, his skin unnaturally pale, and the subtle exhaustion in his gaze—the kind that follows the fulfilment of endless desires—lent him an uncanny resemblance to an aristocratic vampire.

Sam stood by the window, overlooking the bustling city from hundreds of metres above. The city was vibrant, its streets teeming with traffic, and pedestrians below moved like ants.

Casually, he picked up the remote control lying next to the television.

He pressed the red button without hesitation.

Click!

Time seemed to freeze in that instant. The next second… the television didn't turn on. Instead, the world outside was suddenly flooded with blinding light, as if the sun had descended to the earth.

BOOM!!!

BOOM!!!

BOOM!!!

Deafening explosions erupted across the land. The once-prosperous city appeared to be obliterated in an instant, as though dozens of atomic bombs had been dropped at once. Mushroom clouds rose one after another, and waves of searing white light surged forth like a tsunami, consuming everything in their path and erasing the city entirely.

Sam watched the apocalyptic scene unfold with a serene expression. The blazing white light reflected in his eyes, momentarily washing away the weariness in them.

"No matter how many times I see this, it's still such a feast for the eyes," he remarked with quiet admiration.

The next moment, the blinding light consumed the skyscraper he was in.

Sam woke up on his one-metre-wide, two-metre-long bed.

The twelve stunning beauties were gone. In their place were yellowing walls, an old wardrobe, and a wooden desk piled high with books.

The stark contrast was jarring, like being reborn into an entirely different life.

But this wasn't reincarnation or a second chance at life—it was…

just a dream.

Yes, Sam had been dreaming just moments ago.

As the saying goes: in dreams, anything is possible.

And for Sam, his dreams were the epitome of limitless possibility.

In his dreams, he was nearly omnipotent, capable of creating entire worlds with a single thought. Whether it was a bustling modern metropolis, a mystical cultivation realm where one could soar through the skies, or a fantastical world of swords and sorcery, whatever he could imagine, he could create.

Want beauties? Campus queens, celebrities, celestial maidens, saintesses, or elves—they lined up for him to choose, each one as vivid and lifelike as reality.

Want power? He could alternate between being the Speaker of the Federation, an ancient emperor, the Heavenly Emperor of the Immortal Realm, or the Supreme Divine Lord of the cosmos.

Want money? Actually, not really. He never needed it.

A year ago, when Sam first began dreaming like this, he indulged himself wildly. In reality, he was just an ordinary student, an orphan at that, not destitute but barely scraping by.

The stark contrast between his mundane life and the exhilarating dreamscapes gave him unparalleled thrills. In his dreams, he could unleash his desires without restraint, experiencing everything beautiful in the world—even wonders beyond reality. For instance, he would often insert himself as the protagonist of any popular web novel he came across. He'd done it all, playing through countless fictional worlds.

What's more, Sam could control the flow of time in his dreams, extending it up to an entire year.

In other words, a single night's sleep could feel like living a full year within the dream.

However, humans are peculiar creatures—tormented by unfulfilled desires, yet bored when those desires are endlessly satisfied.

For over a century of dream-time, Sam revelled in this limitless joy. He indulged, lived, and played to his heart's content. But eventually, he grew weary, bored, even inexplicably frustrated.

It was like being a gamer with an invincibility cheat enabled, playing the same game for over a century. At first, it was exhilarating. But as time went on, the thrill faded, and monotony crept in.

What made it worse was his realisation of the fundamental difference between reality and his dreams:

The people in his dreams weren't real.

They were essentially NPCs—robots, figments of his own creation.

In his dreams, nothing ever happened outside his expectations. He could predict every word anyone would say, every action they would take.

After all, he was the sole person in those worlds who truly possessed independent thought. Everyone else existed only as extensions of his mind.

This stark truth made his dreams even more tiresome.

And so, Sam no longer found satisfaction in mere indulgence. He began seeking thrills, adventures, and carnage instead.

But after several more decades, no form of excitement could stir his interest. Everything felt dull and meaningless.

At the same time, Sam noticed that his once-healthy body was becoming frail. Occasionally, he would experience splitting headaches or nosebleeds. Yet, paradoxically, his mind grew sharper—his memory and cognitive abilities improving at an astonishing rate.

At first, he dismissed these changes, continuing to immerse himself in his dream worlds, desperately searching for any semblance of unusual excitement. Reality, to him, was even more tedious than his dreams.

Until one day, he awoke to an excruciating headache, as if someone were drilling into his skull with an electric tool. Blood began to seep from his eyes, ears, nose, and mouth. Moments later, he passed out entirely.

It was only after this terrifying incident that Sam realised something was amiss.

He went to the hospital for a check-up, but the results were inconclusive. The doctors could find nothing wrong with him and simply attributed his symptoms to a lack of exercise, mild anaemia, and low blood sugar.

Determined to fight back, Sam reduced the time he spent dreaming and tried to build up his strength. But… it didn't work. Nothing worked.

Exercise, medication, nutritional supplements—he tried everything, but his body only grew weaker by the day. The headaches became more severe, and his condition continued to deteriorate.

Sam could feel it—his life was slipping away, little by little. The sense of being completely out of control, of facing a nameless, incurable condition, was overwhelming.

And yet, amidst the chaos of his failing body, his lips curled into a grin.

"This feeling... this is... utterly marvellous!"