Chapter Ten: Elimination

Controlling one’s gaze is far from easy. To illustrate, if I mention that the last lines of the previous chapter all ended with “peace,” your eyes would inevitably shift, if only for a moment. All the more so when you must concentrate for a long time, resisting the urge to look at something right beside you—especially when that thing exerts a peculiar allure.

Of course, while it’s difficult, it’s not insurmountable. At least, Horseman believes he has some measure of control.

“Don’t look, don’t look,” Horseman reminds himself inwardly. “If my eyes start to ache, if my eyelids twitch, just close them and rest for a bit. It’ll cost more time, but stability matters most—stability!”

With this strong mental prompt, Horseman proceeds cautiously, repairing the majority of the crack bit by bit. Not once does his gaze stray into the gap.

Phew!

Seeing his specialized task nearly complete, Horseman quietly lets out a breath of relief. Nearby, Scaled Arm feels compelled to remind him, “We might not have much time left. That guard has shown up nearby several times. It’d be best to pick up the pace a little.”

Horseman pauses, attempting to turn his head to look at Scaled Arm. As soon as he does, his perspective returns to normal. He considers explaining his situation, but realizes it’s too complicated for a quick conversation, so he simply nods and resumes repairing with the spray.

As for inviting Scaled Arm to share in the task, he’s not inclined—since the other hasn’t asked, Horseman is happy to feign ignorance.

Besides, he’s deeply curious about the reward this task will bring. The reward is marked “unknown,” and a little selfishness urges him to claim it alone.

Yet, as he turns back, something unforeseen occurs.

The deep, silent eyes that had hovered in the darkness have somehow merged with the crack in the door. The outline of the crack becomes an eyelid, the black curtain forms an eyeball, and in an instant, its lifeless gaze once again meets Horseman’s, causing him to receive another injury notification.

[Notification: You have suffered 5 points of sanity damage. You have recovered 5 points of health.]

“Damn!” Horseman curses inwardly. Now, his sanity is down to half. The safest course would be to share the task with Scaled Arm, but a restless greed and mounting resentment keep him stubbornly silent.

He holds his breath and focuses, starting to repair the crack again. At this moment, the guiding guard appears behind the two players, standing at a distance, unwilling to approach any closer.

Scaled Arm glances back at the guard’s grave expression and realizes the task time is running out; he frowns, but Horseman’s pace only grows more excruciatingly slow. If the guard refuses to take over, how will their mission be settled? However, the guard’s behavior brings some relief—he stands there gloomily, seemingly unconcerned with Horseman’s sluggish progress.

Hmm?

Finally, Scaled Arm senses something is amiss. The guard’s fear of the damaged door lock is excessive—probably for the same reason Horseman is moving so slowly.

It seems some time remains, which is a fortunate discovery; equally fortunate is that the repair task is drawing to a close.

But Horseman’s hand suddenly falters, then begins to tremble and scribble as if possessed, his expression growing frantic. Scaled Arm observes his profile, noting the excitement and confusion, which are soon swallowed entirely by terror.

This is because Horseman hears one last notification—the sixth.

[Notification: You have suffered 5 points of sanity damage. You have recovered 5 points of health.]
[Notification: Your sanity has dropped to zero. You have entered a state of madness.]
[Warning: Every thirty seconds, you will undergo an instant death check, with a 20% chance of death!]
[Notification: Checking... Success. You have avoided immediate death, but you have acquired a negative condition—Intermittent Paralysis.]
...
[Intermittent Paralysis]: All your actions may be suddenly interrupted at random. Your will is zero. This negative condition cannot be resisted.
...

It’s over...

At this moment, Horseman’s heart is filled with despair. He no longer dares to continue the task, retreating in a daze, abandoning the repair spray, stumbling blindly away from the dark curtain.

Scaled Arm, perplexed, tries to intercept him, but the previously silent guard suddenly speaks: “He’s already reached the end of the road. It’s up to you now. You must repair the door lock.”

“Why?” Scaled Arm grabs the repair spray. “If this task is so important, why don’t you do it yourself?”

“That’s because...” The guard swallows, his gaze quickly avoiding the door as soon as it lands there, visibly nervous. “The Plague Doctor with the Crow Mask hasn’t awakened yet. His will senses the connection to the outside world being blocked, which automatically generates a manifestation to resist. If I intervene, I’ll be facing the main body, not just the manifestation! Hurry, don’t waste time. If the task isn’t completed, your fate won’t be much better.”

Scaled Arm weighs the spray in his hand and takes a deep breath. “But if I do this, what’s in it for me?”

“What?”

“I said, what do I gain from it?” Scaled Arm’s boldness borders on audacity, but he senses there’s profit here—a designer’s typical trick, where deeper exploration yields extra branches, and players relish the challenge. “If death is the only outcome, I might as well abandon the task. So, I need worthwhile rewards.”

“You’re insane!” The guard’s eyes widen as he roars, but Scaled Arm meets his gaze with calm fearlessness. With time running out and the task daunting, failure would mean disaster for the guard as well; forced, he relents.

“Fine. If you complete this task, I’ll get you one or two pieces of equipment suited to you. Don’t doubt it—the Foundation is a vast organization. Employees as weak as you are everywhere. Also, after you repair the door lock, you’ll receive some special items. Although you’re taking over midway, the effects will be somewhat reduced, but you’ll still benefit greatly.”

He grits his teeth. “There’s another secret—I might as well tell you. After interacting with anomalous objects, you often gain something, though you might not realize it. Take Brocade, for example. If you clean its room, you gain its goodwill and reduce the chance of being attacked, and you can also protect those around you. Otherwise, do you think we bring you burdens for no reason? Without you cannon fodder, we couldn’t reach the control center. Don’t fool yourself! Enough, don’t get greedy.”

Receiving more information than expected, Scaled Arm is pleased, patting his bald head. He then steels himself, raises the repair spray, and immediately sees a slowly blinking eye.

[Notification: You have suffered 5 points of sanity damage. You have recovered 5 points of health.]

Scaled Arm’s reaction is swift—though mentally prepared, the sudden change catches him off guard. He hurriedly averts his gaze, recalling what he’d just seen: the crack in the door had transformed into a blinking eye. Just a moment’s contact was enough to cost him dearly.

Quickly reviewing the system notification, Scaled Arm also begins to devise a countermeasure, realizing the difficulty Horseman faced.

[Notification: Player “Horseman” failed the assessment.]

The first eliminated contestant has appeared!

Wait... why Horseman?

At that moment, all the surviving players present realize something—the Ember is still alive!

The one who had already reached beyond the dark curtain wasn’t the expert. He folded his arms, glancing at Rain Tomorrow’s inscrutable expression nearby, and before them, Horseman’s body slowly faded away, lying on the ground. Though he hadn’t collapsed in some pit within the dark curtain due to paralysis, he ultimately failed to avoid the instant death check.

At the door, Scaled Arm’s mind whirls, but his strong resolve prevails—his veteran title is not easily earned.

After risking two attempts, Scaled Arm finally determines the limits of the eye’s blinking, and with utmost speed, seals the last gap completely.

Phew...

Seeing this, both Scaled Arm and the guard sigh in relief, and at the same time, Scaled Arm’s eyes are drawn to something remarkable.

[Notification: You have completed the assessment task—Repair the Door Lock.]
[Notification: Because you did not fully endure the Plague Doctor’s will test, you only receive partial contribution points and a temporary skill.]

Even with reduced rewards, his contribution bar—the equivalent of experience—has risen sharply. More importantly, Scaled Arm gains a skill, albeit temporary, but its effects are more than satisfactory. The rewards, beyond contribution, dispel the gloom of Horseman’s elimination and the surprise of Ember’s survival. Scaled Arm immediately follows the guard out; as they leave the dark curtain, he instinctively checks the task timer.

Now, there are twenty minutes left before the sixty-minute deadline for a passing evaluation.