Chapter One: The Solo Qualifier

Perhaps because the settlement animation had already finished in-game, Ember was kicked out as soon as he received his rewards. Still, the announcement about the “Solo Qualifier” caught his attention.

Even though he was so tired his eyelids were drooping, he forced himself to join the discussion group and saw the official notice from the Singularity team.

The fourth assessment would serve as a solo qualifier to determine eligibility for the fifth and final closed beta test. Based on the evaluation, the system would select ninety-nine players from across the three major organizations to participate in the final, publicly streamed assessment for promotional purposes. All players making it to the livestream phase would receive in-game rewards, and those who ranked highly would earn even richer prizes.

At the same time, the first three assessments had already introduced the game’s opening backstory. The Singularity dev team would swiftly produce a trailer, combining footage of player performance with the narrative, to further enhance closed beta players’ sense of involvement.

Lastly, the Sun’s Eldest Daughter would be played by a mysterious actress, who would not only make a public appearance during the livestreamed assessment but also join players in overcoming major challenges in subsequent in-game events.

The announcement immediately set off a firestorm in the discussion group. Most were speculating about the identity of the mysterious actress, but a subset—including Ember—was far more concerned about the solo qualifier.

According to the announcement, the difficulty for the solo qualifier was set to “Normal,” to ensure a level playing field. The three in-game organizations—Foundation, Scavengers, and the University—each had their own assessment instance. Player rankings would be determined first by evaluation, then by completion time. In other words, the faster a player finished the challenge, the higher their rank.

Seeing this, Ember felt a surge of anticipation. He had long wanted to see just how “normal” the so-called Normal difficulty truly was!

Meanwhile, some enthusiastic players in the discussion group were already excitedly debating which veterans were sure to qualify, and which strong newcomers might seize the top spot. Ember, however, was too exhausted to keep up with these threads. Just then, a new post title caught his eye.

“Does any expert know how to clear the Life Forbidden Zone on Hard+?”

Anyone who could reach “Hard+” was already an expert, and the poster’s ID was outlined in silver, marking them as a veteran.

“Withered Vine and Old Tree? That’s a familiar name,” Ember muttered, clicking in to read about this seasoned player’s misfortune.

They too had survived the zombie hive battle, secured a “Nightmare Invitation,” and entered the Nightmare Challenge with Little Bob. Unfortunately, the challenge cost them their companion. After riding the Nightmare Pumpkin Car into the inner ring, they were betrayed by Little Bob, who handed them over to Bramble. Bramble, fighting alone, utterly overwhelmed them, not even giving them a chance to use their matches—everything was snatched away.

Withered Vine and Old Tree didn’t die outright, as Little Bob pleaded with Bramble to spare their life. Afterwards, Bramble sent a few trusted aides to join Little Bob in searching for Old Bob’s written records, and Withered Vine and Old Tree, forced to tag along, managed to keep their Bloodvine Amulet. But when facing the Six-Eyed Evangelist, a single misstep led to death at the hands of a six-eyed zealot.

Ultimately, Withered Vine and Old Tree only earned an “Outstanding” evaluation and wanted to know how to clear the Life Forbidden Zone, so they detailed their experience in the post.

Below, most replies were the usual worshipful chatter. Ember scrolled patiently, and was surprised to find a comment from “Fishscale Arm.”

Fishscale Arm mentioned that they had only managed to enter the Life Forbidden Zone on Hard by duo-queuing with another player. After reaching the inner ring, they weren’t betrayed by Little Bob, so they suspected it was due to affinity points—a vital aspect, given how prominent the affinity prompts were.

Withered Vine and Old Tree: “Good evening, Sister Fish! Even Friendly-level affinity isn’t enough?”

Fishscale Arm: “I have no idea. We were at Friendly too, joking around with Little Bob. Must be the Hard+ difficulty—probably stricter requirements!”

Withered Vine and Old Tree: “That makes sense, but I don’t think I missed anything earlier on. I can’t imagine where else you could boost affinity.”

The two veterans continued discussing, joined by other players who’d experienced the Life Forbidden Zone, but Ember didn’t spot any key information. Offhandedly, he posted: “Sincerity is required,” then collapsed into bed.

He was simply too tired—the assessment had drained him, and he’d just increased his training regimen, making his body lag behind his ambition. He fell asleep on the massage chair inside the game pod and didn’t wake until daylight.

When he opened his eyes, he felt refreshed, but sticky and uncomfortable from not having showered. Ignoring the game notifications, he went to wash up. Afterward, as part of his routine, he entered the art studio, picked up his brush, and began pondering what to sketch today.

“Hmm... let’s go with you, then!”

Within an hour, Ember had recreated the mural of the evil gods from memory. Though some details were hazy, the general outline was etched in his mind, and a multitude of grotesque deities quickly sprawled across the paper—reproducing the mural’s original form.

“Yes, that’s about right.” Ember nodded in satisfaction. Just then, the studio door opened, and Miao Miao walked in.

“Remember how I asked you for a painting? I don’t need it anymore,” she said with a cheerful grin. Hearing this, Ember felt a bit puzzled. “Is my painting getting worse? Why are so many people turning me down lately?”

“Really?” Miao Miao glanced at the fresh mural over his shoulder and frowned slightly, her brows knitting. “Your style has changed a lot, but it’s not bad at all.”

“I think it’s fine too!” Ember decided not to dwell on it. “Come on, let’s keep training. What’s on the schedule today?”

“Here you go—I worked up a training plan for you last night, tailored to your condition. It combines aerobic and anaerobic exercises, plus specialized combat drills. Honestly, your old routine was totally inefficient—so much wasted time! Listen: if you want to beat me anytime soon, you’ll have to stick to this plan. Otherwise, Teacher Miao Miao will have to teach you a lesson!”

...

The new regimen was moderate in intensity. Ember trained off and on all day, feeling some results. Wanting to be in top form for the all-important solo qualifier, he even took a half-hour nap. By midnight, he was fully recharged as he entered the game pod and logged into the discussion group.

“Whoa! Why are there so many messages?” He scanned them one by one, finding most were replies to his earlier comment.

A random user: “Ember... is this the same Ember who took someone else’s name?”

Withered Vine and Old Tree: “Sincerity? How do you level that up?”

Another user: “Bookmarking for the experts’ discussion.”

Fishscale Arm: “Ember, you must be amazing—your evaluation in the Life Forbidden Zone must have been high, right?”

Yet another user: “Wow, you’re on such friendly terms with Sister Fish? Could you be a veteran under a new name?”

Not a Sword Immortal: “Bookmarking for the experts’ discussion.”

Another user again: “Bookmarking for the experts’ discussion.”

...

Ember mass-deleted a slew of repetitive posts, then skimmed the more meaningful discussions. Some even tried to DM him for a walkthrough. When Ember didn’t reply, a few started throwing insults, accusing him of showing off and being afraid to answer Withered Vine and Old Tree’s questions for fear of being exposed.

He ignored all such posts, replying only to Withered Vine and Old Tree:

“It might be time-related. Clear the zombie hive within fifteen minutes, and after meeting Little Bob, boost affinity to Indifferent.”

Then Ember began handling friend requests, rejecting a host of unfamiliar IDs and accepting only the one from “Wine Grows Stronger.”

Ding ding!

“Hey, you still remember to log in?”

“Hey! You’re still online?”

“Don’t get me started. I was planning to turn in early, but then they dropped this solo challenge. Guess I’ll have to pull another all-nighter! Want to compete—see who ranks higher?”

“Not interested.”

“Ha! You’re scared, aren’t you?”

“To be honest, I don’t think you have any advantage. We’re about equal in skill, but I have you beat on smarts.”

“Ember, you’re finished! Once I clear this instance, I’ll have anomaly equipment too!”

“Oh.”

“Oh? That’s all you have to say?”

“I, who am about to acquire my third piece of anomaly equipment, congratulate you.”

“...Just you wait! I’ll take you down in the livestream, ruin your reputation, and show you I’m not someone to be trifled with!”

“We’ll see.”

Ember smiled, and since there were still a few minutes left, he browsed the discussion group. Ignoring the unofficial player rankings, his eye was caught by a post that truly interested him.

“On the Uses of Matches!”

Though he had three matches on hand, Ember really didn’t know all their possible uses. Reading the post, he learned they could save a player from death in the Bloodvine Sea, instantly summon a patrol squad, call the Nightmare Pumpkin Car for rescue, or even trigger a shadow upheaval to wipe out enemies.

The post also highlighted special hireable targets for the matches: the Witch and the Six-Eyed Evangelist.

This confirmed Ember’s suspicion: hiring the Witch allowed players to breeze through the early game, bypassing the Nightmare Challenge and forcing entry into the inner ring. But once the follower timer expired, the player faced a special event—whether or not to help the Witch through the Nightmare Challenge. Success would grant a character marker and help advance the story.

However, those who used this method ended up wasting so much time that Arbor killed the Gardener and destroyed the Sun Temple, costing them a perfect evaluation.

Ember couldn’t help but marvel at the number of skilled players, and made a note of this one’s ID: “White Flag.” At the stroke of midnight, he decisively logged in with hundreds of others, watching the looping login animation. A thought popped into his mind.

“Why not go for first place?”