Chapter Seven: The First Battle

[Sapphire Necklace]
Type: Quest/Special Item
Function: Unknown
Description: This mysterious necklace, obtained from the Apostles of Chaos, seems to conceal secrets yet untold.
[Hint: The Fifth Warden appears to possess information about this necklace.]
[Hint: This item cannot be taken out of the current trial space.]
...
Upon seeing the prompt, Embers immediately held the necklace before the Fifth Warden’s eyes. He noticed the warden’s expression turn to sudden realization; perhaps the discovery caused his chest to heave, and a few short, coughing fits forced clotted blood from his abdomen.
“Cough... So that’s how it is... You must keep this necklace safe—it must never fall into the hands of the Apostles of Chaos!” The Fifth Warden, somewhat agitated, strained to raise his voice. “They want to seize the anomalous project ‘Active Slime’ in my jurisdiction, and this necklace is the key to unlock its containment. If you have the chance, hand it directly to the Director. Should anything unexpected happen, remember: destroy it at all costs.”
...
Side Quest: [Escort the Key]
Objective: Deliver the containment key for the anomalous project ‘Active Slime’ to the Director of Facility Nineteen
Reward: Contribution Points
Description: Active Slime is an important anomaly under long-term research by the Foundation. One of the Apostles of Chaos’ objectives in launching their attack is to seize it. The Fifth Warden now requires you to deliver the containment key to the highest Director. Upon success, you will receive a reward. If anything goes awry, you must destroy the key; should it fall into a third party’s hands, the mission fails.
[Hint: The Director’s location can be found at the Control Center.]
...
A side quest?
“The requirement is to hand it to the Director, but to know the Director’s location, I have to reach the Control Center first. Isn’t that a bit harsh? Could it be because there’s a traitor within?”
Embers became increasingly convinced that the story arrangement in Anomaly Park was far less linear and straightforward than in ordinary games. He felt he ought to pay close attention—any seemingly friendly member of the Foundation could well be a bloodthirsty wolf lurking in the dark.
As he pondered, the Fifth Warden’s gaze shifted, landing on a nondescript, dark short rod lying in the corner of the connecting platform.
“A pity. In this battle, not only am I about to lose my life, but my personal weapon is completely destroyed. It was meant to become a legacy weapon, but in the end, only a shattered basic component remains... Never mind, since I’m doomed anyway, what’s the use in speaking of this? That remaining retractable baton—I’ll give it to you. It was the first weapon I received when I joined the Foundation. Though it’s now mostly ruined, it suits your current abilities. Take it, and hurry aw—”
Even forcing himself, he could not finish his last words. The Fifth Warden’s head drooped to the side, and so he passed away quietly.
[Hint: The Fifth Warden has transferred the usage rights of the weapon ‘Damaged Retractable Baton’ to you.]
The Fifth Warden’s death left Embers silent, for the scene before his eyes felt so vivid, as if he had truly witnessed a life slip away. Shaking his head, he stood up. The most urgent task was to leave the Endless Staircase, not to waste time. As he set off to return, he checked the first piece of equipment he’d obtained.

...
[Damaged Retractable Baton] (Light/Basic)
Weapon Quality: Excellent
Attack Range: Very Short
Damage Level: Extremely Weak
Special Effect: None
Requirements: None
Description: As the basic component of a legacy weapon, though it has suffered severe damage, it still tenaciously retains its complete form—but nothing more. Having lost its retractable function for now, it can only grant you a slightly longer reach than your fist, and offers little more striking power.
...
Damaged, very short, extremely weak.
“These modifiers are really something, but no matter what, at least I have a weapon!”
Embers swung it a few times with effort. The strength-sensing bands coiled around his arms in the assisted pod tightened slightly as he reached the limits of his swing, providing just the right feedback for the impact force. The assisted pod greatly reduced physical exertion and helped users perform various extreme maneuvers. Though Embers was not particularly experienced in games, he exercised regularly in real life. With the pod’s support, he felt no discomfort; the latest model of sensory suit from Singularity also made the combat experience far more realistic.
Though the baton could no longer extend, Embers was quite satisfied. As the saying goes, an inch longer is an inch stronger—a length of roughly thirty centimeters was certainly more formidable than bare fists.
A glance at the clock told him that most of the five-minute time limit had passed. Frowning, he dashed upstairs without another word.
Before leaving, however, curiosity compelled him to shine his flashlight at the scene on the twentieth floor of the Endless Staircase. Instantly, his vision took on the blurred quality of an old film: flashes of strange light, chaotic images flickering. The cries of a little girl became clearer; each sob sent the airborne mold spores swirling madly, as if an invisible hand was constantly stirring the air.
Embers did not forget the game’s advice to “act with intention,” and his curiosity was not enough to drive him into unknown danger. But as he turned his head, he was shocked to find the gray spectral face that had vanished earlier with Rain Tomorrow was now floating right in front of him.
The abruptness of the sight startled Embers, his pupils contracting, fingers clenching the baton as if it brimmed with infinite security. Instinctively, he lashed out with all his might, meeting a test of willpower at the same time.
[Hint: You are under attack by a spiritual derivative. You must pass a willpower check to avoid damage.]
[Hint: Checking... Your Willpower Level is 2. Check passed. The spiritual derivative cannot harm you!]
As if shielded by divine light, the gray ghost face that had planned to lunge at Embers was repelled by a burst of radiance, unable to approach him at all. Frustrated in its assault, the baton struck down hard. The spiritual derivative could not dodge in time; the ghostly face shuddered violently, its glow dimming as it suffered from the blow’s rigidity.
A terrible cry—
The gray ghost face, struck hard, contorted in terror, its hollow eyes twisting and stretching. Clearly, Embers’ instinctive counterattack had caused it great pain.
[Hint: You have inflicted two points of damage on the spiritual derivative.]
In the heat of battle, Embers had no time to check prompts; he simply gritted his teeth and battered his foe.

The baton swept swiftly through the center of the ghostly face. Embers felt as if he were brushing the surface of water—a sensation of limited collision.
The game’s combat mode was, of course, not a direct simulation of reality; otherwise, it would devolve into eye-gouging, ear-pulling, and shoving matches. Thus, when virtual games first rose to popularity, many companies set rules for attack methods, retaining the old concept of “limited collision.” For instance, you might punch an opponent back, but you couldn’t push them ten meters with your fist alone.
Furthermore, most players were not martial arts experts. If the game mirrored reality, one might break their own wrist before hurting the enemy. The limited collision system greatly lowered the difficulty of using various weapons and prevented players from being helplessly beaten to death without reprisal.
Returning to the matter at hand, Embers soon discovered that the gray ghost face lacked any high intelligence. Though battered left and right, it showed no intent to flee and continued to seek a chance to strike back.
During the fight, he gradually felt the limits of his stamina. After five consecutive attacks, he was spent—the assisted device became a burden, his arms weighed down as if by stones, making it hard to even lift his hands, let alone attack. The new sensory suit simulated this effect as well, catching Embers off guard and nearly allowing the ghost face to counterattack.
Fortunately, he kept the upper hand, calmly retreating to regain his strength before exploiting the creature’s poor resilience. After three rounds, the gray ghost face was at last shattered—its form dissipating with a silent roar, leaving behind only a handful of gray dust on the floor.
[Hint: You have eliminated the spiritual derivative.]
Oh!
A drop!
Delighted, Embers quickly collected the dust.
...
[Wraith Dust]
Type: Single-Use Consumable
Function: Forces the target to make a Willpower Check (Level 3). If the check fails, the target suffers a sanity attack and falls into a mild state of terror for 3 seconds. The actual effect depends on the target’s Willpower Level.
Description: This crystalline dust, condensed from resentment at the moment of a spirit’s death, carries the despairing emotions of the spiritual derivative, making its effects slightly enhanced.
[Hint: To use it, throw it accurately at the enemy’s face.]
[Hint: This item is a single-use consumable, qualifying for trial enhancements. Its check level and effect are greatly improved.]
...
Excellent!
A simple battle had not only netted Embers ten percent of his experience bar, but also yielded a consumable with potentially miraculous effects. Satisfied, he carefully placed the wraith dust in the pocket over his heart and hurried up the stairs without a backward glance.
For the time left by the Deputy Warden’s quest was now down to just one minute...