My God-Tier Slacker System Is Out Of Control

Chapter 6 Goldfish Piloting a Space Shuttle

"I'm telling you, man, I'm just here for the free coffee and the vibes. My coding skills are roughly equivalent to a goldfish trying to pilot a space shuttle," Doni said, leaning so far back in his chair he was practically horizontal. 

"We appreciate the modesty, Mr. Kusuma. Truly," the recruiter said, staring at Doni with an intensity that bordered on religious worship. "Ibu Laura's recommendation said you were a 'visionary of the non-traditional.' At Cupid-Byte, we value that. We’re not just a dating app. We’re an algorithmic revolution."

Doni groaned, his eyes tracing the neon "C" on the wall of the Silicon Alley office. "Revolutions sound like a lot of overtime. Can we just... lower the stakes? Maybe I just fix the 'Reset Password' button for a few months? My current life goal is to be completely forgotten by the national media."

"Hah! Spoken like a true disruptor!" the recruiter chirped, oblivious to Doni’s soul-crushing sincerity. "You'll be our lead intern. We need fresh, chaotic eyes. Show us what you've got on this sandbox terminal. Write us something... bold."

Doni looked at the screen. He was exhausted. The flight from the jet had ended in a weird incident where the meteor supposedly missed Earth because the heat-signature from his Energy Soda factory diverted its trajectory—at least, that was the theory. He just wanted to be a loser again. If he could prove he was a trash coder, surely Ibu Laura and Dona would stop treating him like a cosmic messiah. 

System, help me out here, Doni thought. Give me the worst, most amateurish code in history. I want to be fired before lunch.

[SYSTEM ANALYSIS: REQUEST FOR TOTAL ARCHITECTURAL SABOTAGE DETECTED.]

[MATCHING SKILL: 'CODE-MIGRANE INDUCER'. GENERATING GARBAGE... STATUS: COMPLETE.]

"Watch this," Doni muttered, his fingers hitting the mechanical keyboard with the rhythm of a person who had given up on life. "This is going to be so bad it’ll probably make your monitor cry."

"Oh? Let’s see the 'Doni Method,'" a senior dev named Leo said, leaning over his shoulder. 

Doni typed: while(true) { System.out.println("Why are you still working? Go take a nap."); }

It was the ultimate infinite loop. The most basic, server-crashing rookie mistake. It was a digital suicide note. If the app tried to run this, it would eat every byte of RAM until the server smoked like a cheap barbecue grill.

"Done," Doni said, spinning in his chair. "Go ahead. Run it. Call security. I'll just wait here for my walk-of-shame out of the building."

"An infinite loop?" Leo blinked, squinting at the lines. "Dude, that’s literally 'Intro to Programming' failure territory. You’re joking, right?"

"No jokes. Pure, unadulterated laziness," Doni said, popping a piece of gum. "It’s a masterclass in 'How to Crash Your Company in Ten Seconds.' So, do I get the 'Do Not Hire' stamp now?"

"Wait," Leo whispered, his hand hovering over the 'Execute' button. "There’s a strange beauty in its nihilism."

Suddenly, the lights in the office flickered. The giant TV screen in the lobby turned from a vibrant pink to a chilling, void-like black. The quiet hum of the office was replaced by the high-pitched whine of server fans screaming in agony.

"What was that?" the recruiter asked, clutching his tablet. 

"Sir! We’re under a Zero-Day assault!" a tech screamed from the far end of the room. "The 'Shadow-Blinker' malware just broke the firewall! It’s sucking out all user passwords and bank links! We can't stop the outbound traffic!"

"The encrypted tunnel is open!" Leo shouted, his face going pale. "If that malware reaches the core database, Cupid-Byte is finished! Shut everything down!"

"The 'Off' button isn't working!" another dev wailed. "The malware hijacked the admin privileges! It’s moving too fast—our antivirus can’t even see it!"

Doni watched the chaos with a detached sense of boredom. See? he thought. The world is falling apart and I'm just sitting here with my crappy infinite loop. Perfect timing. Maybe if I click 'Execute' right now, the distraction will give the hackers an even easier path, and I'll be the villain of the story. Villains don't get 'Human Rights' awards.

"Move," Doni said, shoving Leo aside with one finger. "Let me 'fix' it."

He slammed his hand onto the 'Enter' key, launching his pathetic, resource-draining infinite loop into the main system's pipeline.

"Doni, no! You'll crash our only remaining buffer!" Leo screamed.

The screen flared bright blue. [INFINITE LOOP ACTIVE: 1,000,000 SARCASM-INSTANCES PER SECOND.]

On the main tactical display, something impossible happened. The malware—a hyper-intelligent, AI-driven digital parasite—was moving through the server's corridors toward the sensitive data. It was looking for encrypted gates to pick. It was looking for complex code to subvert. 

Instead, it ran headfirst into Doni’s loop. 

Why are you still working? Go take a nap. Why are you still working? Go take a nap. Why are you still working? Go take a nap.

The malware’s AI, programmed to solve any logical puzzle or firewall, was suddenly forced to process an unending, pointless command. It couldn't 'bypass' the loop because the loop wasn't a wall—it was a hole. A black hole of pure stupidity that demanded 100% of the server’s processing power just to tell itself a joke about laziness. 

The malware was stuck. It froze in mid-transmission, trapped by the gravity of Doni’s refusal to do any real work.

"Look!" the tech screamed, pointing at the monitor. "The malware isn't moving! It’s caught in the 'Nap Loop'!"

"The CPU is at 99.9% capacity, but it’s all localized in that sandbox!" Leo yelled, his hands shaking. "The outbound traffic stopped! The virus is being throttled to death by sheer... sheer boredom!"

Five seconds. Ten seconds. The malware, unable to execute its payload or retreat from the loop's priority-queue, simply overheated the virtual environment and self-deleted in a 'Digital Suicide.' 

The lights stabilized. The server fans quieted down to a purr. The lobby screen returned to pink, showing two animated hearts clinking together. 

The silence in the office was deafening. Every single employee was staring at Doni. 

"Did... did he just catch a global Zero-Day exploit with a sarcasm-powered bear trap?" a Junior Coder asked, his voice full of awe.

"It wasn't a bear trap," Leo whispered, looking at Doni like he was a visiting god. "It was a Honey-Pot. The most brilliant, elegantly simple Honey-Pot I've ever seen. He predicted that a hyper-aggressive AI would prioritize the largest resource-sink and used its own hunger for data against it."

"What? No!" Doni stood up, waving his hands. "It wasn't elegant! It was literally the first thing I learned to not do in college! I was trying to crash your app so I could go home and play Limbus Company!"

"Hah! Hear that?!" The CEO, Sarah, came running out of her glass office, clapping her hands so hard it sounded like gunshots. "Modesty again! He calls it 'crashing the app' when he really means 'sacrificing a sector to bait the predator.' Doni, you are a legend! A cybersecurity shark!"

"Shark?! I'm a goldfish! A tiny, lazy goldfish!" Doni shouted, but his voice was drowned out by a cheering roar from the entire office. 

[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION: MISSION FAILED SUCCESSFULLY!]

[RESULT: WRITING 'TRASH CODE' ACCIDENTALLY TRAPPED A LEGENDARY DARK-WEB MALWARE. STARTUP SAVED.]

[REWARD: 75,000 USD 'BOUNTY HUNTER' F*E & IMMEDIATE PROMOTION TO CHIEF SECURITY OFFICER (NON-CONSULTATIVE).]

[LUCK RANK: LEVEL 6 — 'CODE-BREAKER KING'.]

Doni slumped back into his chair, his head hitting the keyboard with a pathetic 'clack.' "God... dammit. I just wanted to be an intern who forgot to bring donuts."

"Chief Security Officer!" Sarah announced, placing a company-branded hoodie on Doni’s shoulders as if she were crowning him emperor. "You get your own floor, your own beanbag, and you never have to come to meetings if you don't feel the 'vibration.'"

"Actually," Doni muttered into the keyboard, "I think I'm going to throw up."

"He's overcome with passion for the craft! Look at him!" the recruiter cried, tears in his eyes.

Amidst the cheering, Dona walked in through the glass doors, her tablet in hand. She looked at the monitors, then at the frozen malware logs, and finally at Doni’s miserable face. She walked up to his desk, her boots clicking with a finality that made his stomach churn. 

"You did it again, didn't you?" she whispered, leaning over him. 

"Go away, Dona. I'm busy being the 'Chief Security Officer' of a place I'm trying to destroy," Doni groaned.

"Interesting choice of words," Dona said, tapping her screen. "Because while you were 'busy,' that flash drive from the hospital was decrypted by your loop's excess energy. Your 'trash code' actually had a secondary effect. It unlocked the secondary layer of the Board's financial files."

Doni sat up slowly, the packing peanut on his jacket finally falling off. "What? Financial files? Like... bank accounts?"

"Like a billion-dollar hit-list," Dona said, her voice turning icy. "And Doni... your name is at the top. But not as a target. As a 'Legacy Asset' to be reclaimed at all costs."

"Reclaimed?" Doni's eyes darted to the window. In the parking lot below, three sleek, window-tinted vans were pulling in. "Does that mean they want to give me more money or shoot me? Because I’m starting to lose track."

"They want to bring you to the 'Dark Chamber,'" Dona said, grabbing his arm. "And from what I know about the 'Pure Luck' rankings, you’re about to meet someone who’s been waiting for you. Someone who doesn’t sleep, doesn't eat, and hasn't failed a mission in twenty years."

Suddenly, the elevator chimed. A man stepped out—pale, wearing a white surgical mask and a hoodie that read 'I'M NOT ACTUALLY HERE.' He carried a laptop bag that pulsed with a low, rhythmic red light. 

The man looked at Doni, his eyes glowing with an artificial, cybernetic shimmer. 

"So," the stranger said, his voice a series of digital clicks and hisses. "You’re the 'Nap-Loop' brat. I was wondering which of us was more inefficient."

Doni felt his system shudder, the blue window turning a violent shade of orange. 

[WARNING: RIVAL SYSTEM DETECTED! HOSTILE 'OPTIMIZATION SYSTEM' ATTACHING...]

[NEW QUEST: SURVIVE THE FIRST AUDIT. PENALTY FOR SUCCESS: PERMANENT OVERTIME.]

Doni looked at the stranger, then at his cold latte, and finally at Dona. "If this guy makes me work a Saturday, I'm blowing up the sun. I mean it."

"Good luck with that, Doni," the stranger whispered, the red light on his bag turning into a blinding flare. "Because Saturday starts... right now."