Chapter Fifteen: Treasure Chest and Challenge

A special item! Wasn't this exactly what Rain Tomorrow had been yearning for? With this, Ash had no more reason to hesitate. He quickly made his choice, and so did Fishscale Arm and the others; not one of them shrank back, all choosing to challenge themselves in unison. The suited old man was not surprised by this result. With a wave of his hand, the four boxes on the right rose from the ground and landed before Ash and his companions.

“You only have ten minutes for the challenge. If you fail within that time, you'll have no claim to the reward.”

The old man produced a handkerchief and wiped his fingers, then glanced at the explosive orb of light that had silently appeared behind Ash and the others. With a gentle flick, the handkerchief fluttered through the air, unfurling to envelop the orb. When the players looked back, they saw the Reaper descend again, and that swirling sphere of destructive energy was unable to harm the pristine handkerchief. Its wild power raged and crashed, but was ultimately wiped away as if it were nothing more than dew brushed aside.

“So, I’m off to see an old friend. If any of you survive, you may apply to face further challenges from me,” the suited old man said, retrieving his handkerchief, his expression indifferent. “If it comes to that, I might even break the rules and grant you something special. My mood’s rather foul today, so even being locked up again for breaking protocol won’t bother me.”

With that, he drifted away like the wind, leaving behind the four players and four treasure chests, four as-yet-unknown reward challenges, and four heartbeats pounding with the flames of anticipation.

To think there was more to the story after this challenge! Clearly, every ten minutes marked a new hurdle, and now they had passed the third to last, ready for the final sprint.

This prospect made Ash and the others eager to test themselves.

[Notice: Game time approaching seventy minutes. Please begin the challenge promptly.]

Only a minute remained until the next deadline.

Seeing the notification, the players exchanged silent glances, each sizing up the box before them. It was obvious that the way to begin was to open the chest, but none wished to act rashly.

“Hah, I only meant to try out Singularity’s new game, but here I am, caught up in it after all.” As the time ticked down, Fishscale Arm realized that further delay was pointless. Anyone who had made it this far was either highly shrewd or at least clever, but wasting time did no one any good, so he took the initiative.

“These boxes are hiding something. I boosted my perception level a bit, and it paid off—I noticed a few things.”

“There’s a monster inside?”

“No, the box itself is the monster.”

At this, everyone understood, stepping back warily to observe the dormant chest. It seemed to be wooden, with rusted iron plates at its corners, but its body was intact and the lid shut tight. Ash watched for several seconds and unexpectedly received a prompt.

[Notice: Your perception level is zero. You cannot identify objects through simple observation.]

Hmm?

This reminder made Ash think of Zouma, who possessed a perception talent. If he were here, perhaps they could have learned more. Of course, Ash could use his own attribute points now, but since Fishscale Arm had already found the key information, doing so would only waste precious resources.

“Mimics are a classic game trope; in this Abnormal Amusement Park, they’re probably called ‘abnormal projects,’” Fishscale Arm remarked, glancing at the clock. “When there are five seconds left, let’s all act at once. I bet when time’s up, these boxes will reveal their true nature whether we open them or not. As for surviving, that’s up to our own abilities.”

Everyone agreed with his plan—at least, on the surface.

Ash gripped his collapsible baton, holding his breath, and in that final instant, raised it high and brought it down hard.

A shrill, pained screech erupted.

Beneath his baton, a creature whose very body was a treasure chest began to show its monstrous face. Four bizarrely long limbs stretched from under the box, propping it upright, while the lid split open into a gaping maw, jagged teeth snapping hungrily at Ash.

Crack!

Taking advantage of the opening his first strike gave him, Ash landed two more blows before darting back to recover, eyeing the others as he did.

Fishscale Arm and Not an Expert were even more decisive in their attacks. Rain Tomorrow, however, tried a different approach, deliberately hesitating a few seconds to let the others face the initial chaos. But he miscalculated: the mimic’s scream roused the one before him as well, leaving him caught off guard and scrambling to evade.

Once the mimic stood up, it towered over the players. With two skeletal arms, it lunged at Rain Tomorrow, but he dodged in time, and the creature stamped after him, enraged.

At the same moment, the mimic Ash had struck recovered, its body lunging forward, claws stretching to their limit to bring him within reach. Danger loomed, but Ash kept his cool—stepping back out of range, then surging forward to pummel the beast before it could retract its limbs.

Another burst of inhuman screeches. After two successful attacks, Ash retreated again.

Rain Tomorrow liked to observe others, and so did Ash, but his focus was on combat technique. The best models were the two veteran players, whose experience far exceeded his own. They had already deduced that fights in Abnormal Amusement Park required careful rhythm management—a key point being not to get greedy with your attacks.

Even though this was an extra challenge on hard difficulty, it was still an early-game scenario. The mimics looked fierce, but had glaring weaknesses: their attacks were predictable, with long windups and recoveries.

Despite the game being new, some design rules always held true.

Still, players’ performances varied. Not an Expert, skilled in combat, soon increased his counterattacks from two to three per interval, and Fishscale Arm followed suit. Ash, adjusting to the mimic’s pattern, also boosted his attack count, his pace matching Rain Tomorrow’s after his initial panic subsided.

With the mimic’s weakness exposed, all four players began dominating their fights, ramping up their offense. Not an Expert, having mastered the intervals, pushed ahead—boosting his combos from three to four. He moved like a precision engine, attacking and retreating with flawless timing, quickly pulling ahead in progress.

But this also triggered the mimic’s second phase.

Enraged, the mimic began to thrash wildly, loosing an ear-piercing shriek as it suddenly broke free from its box! Now unbound, it moved with far greater speed, wielding its shattered shell as a weapon, hurling it straight at Not an Expert.

The box shot forward like a cannonball, slamming into the unprepared player and sending him skidding across the floor until he crashed against a wall.

[Notice: You have been trampled by Abnormal Project ‘Mimic.’ Significant health lost.]
[Notice: Your torso has sustained heavy impact; minor injury detected.]
[Torso Injury (Minor): Movement speed reduced, attack range limited, attack strength decreased. Injury will recover slowly.]
[Notice: Your willpower level is zero; you cannot resist the sanity damage from this attack.]
[Notice: You have lost five points of sanity, which cannot be restored naturally within the current game.]

A string of messages showed just how dire Not an Expert’s situation had become. Worse still, the mimic, now free of its shell, relentlessly pursued him. Had he not rolled aside just as those long claws struck, he surely would have been the next player eliminated.

Witnessing Not an Expert’s plight, Ash and Fishscale Arm tensed, but also braced themselves. The moment their own mimics began to frenzy, they quickly backed away, narrowly avoiding the flying shells.

Since they hadn’t been hit, their situation was much better. The only change in phase two was the mimic’s increased speed, but where before they had time for three attacks, now only two were possible. Even fully focused, Ash narrowly avoided being slashed multiple times; the difficulty had suddenly ramped up, and despite the air conditioning, sweat began to bead on his forehead.

Rip!

Compared to the energetic Ash, the older Fishscale Arm was beginning to flag. One slip, and the mimic raked him with its claws, draining his health rapidly. Worse, he suffered a strength check, and only his natural talent kept him from being snatched outright.

“Don’t let it touch you!” he shouted in warning. Ash took this to heart, but a new threat emerged immediately.

Rain Tomorrow, whose fight had progressed the slowest, finally triggered phase two. Upon seeing Ash handle his mimic so smoothly, resentment and envy surged. In a reckless gamble, he edged closer to Ash as his mimic began to rage, then suddenly leapt aside, leaving Ash exposed in the path of the flying shell.

Rain Tomorrow sneered inwardly. He glanced once at Ash, confident the incoming attack would finish him off. With threats on all sides, he doubted Ash could possibly survive.

Die, kid! That necklace will be mine!