By the time Shen Ge got home, it was almost 10 p.m. He boiled a pack of instant noodles, fired up his computer, and started browsing for the perfect gacha BGM.

“Good Luck Comes” and “God of Gamblers’ Theme” had already been used. For a sacred ritual like gacha, background music was absolutely essential—even for just one pull.

“Alright! You’re the one!”

From the top ten “Gacha BGM” list on a certain video site, Shen Ge selected “The Passionate Duelist.” As the hype voice roared, “My turn—DRAW!”, the rousing music kicked in—

[Consume 100 System Points for a gacha pull?]

“Pull!”

[Drawing prize…]

[Ding!]

[Congratulations! You have obtained the consumable item—”F-1 Fragmentation Grenade.”]

With a flash of white light, a fist-sized green pineapple appeared on the coffee table.

Shen Ge’s expression turned complicated. While he had hoped the system would give him weapons or equipment capable of directly harming anomalies—preferably something low-key like the SRD’s “freezing device” or “black gloves”—this green pineapple certainly met the “high damage” requirement.

But “subtle”? Not even remotely.

Guns were banned in the country. Even regulated blades like butcher knives couldn’t be carried around, let alone this thing.

“System, are you messing with me?!”

He opened a browser to check the specs of the “F-1 Fragmentation Grenade.” The results did not improve his mood.

*”The F-1 contains approximately 60g of high explosive, uses a UZRGM fuse, and detonates within 3.5–4 seconds after activation. Standard throwing range is 30–45 meters, but its effective kill radius is 30 meters…”*

In short: This thing was just as likely to kill the thrower as the target.

And carrying it in a bag? Whether it was security checks or an SRD scan, he’d be earning himself a permanent residency behind bars in no time.

“Go on, why don’t you spawn a personal inventory system next?” Shen Ge muttered in exasperation.

[Host is advised to improve their rating to unlock more system functions.]

“Run a new rating evaluation.”

[Evaluating host’s current status…]

[Result: Tier 0]

“You just said I solo’d a Tier 2 anomaly. How am I still Tier 0? Is your rating system broken?” Shen Ge protested.

[Evaluation is accurate.]

Wow.

Shen Ge dug out a rusty metal box from under his bed—filled with yellowed photos and an old pocket watch—and dropped the grenade inside.

If anyone found it, he’d just claim it was “Grandpa’s war souvenir” and that he’d mistaken it for a model. For now, this thing was staying buried until the system unlocked inventory space.

With the gacha done, Shen Ge let the BGM keep playing. Aside from the 100 System Points, killing the Tier 2 anomaly had also earned him an unclaimed F-grade supply item.

Setting aside the grenade’s… issues, this pull was technically “lucky.” At least the BGM worked.

“System, claim the reward.”

[Drawing reward…]

[Success!]

[Obtained: “Expired Croton Seeds x1lb (F-grade)”]

A bag of foul-smelling beans materialized on the table.

Shen Ge picked it up, eyeing the description with a twitch:

[Expired Croton Seeds x1lb (F-grade): Consuming just 50g rapidly purges toxins from the body. Effective against all non-instantly fatal poisons. (Takes effect in 1 minute.)]

Wordlessly, he tossed the bag under the bed, then moved his cursor to the BGM: Dislike. Block.

Good riddance.

Frustrated, Shen Ge browsed a local forum. As expected, posts about the evening’s anomaly incident on Chenghong Road were vanishing within minutes. Soon, the entire forum went 404—“Network Error.”

By midnight, even creative keyword combos like “anomaly + Rong City + ghost car” yielded nothing but unrelated nonsense.

“The SRD’s efficiency is scary,” he muttered, switching to broader searches about anomalies.

Now that he was already “exposed” to the SRD, getting flagged for searching anomaly-related terms didn’t matter. In fact, not researching anomalies after two encounters in two days would be more suspicious.

Given that Japan’s anomaly incidents would become the global tipping point in three years, their case was worth studying. But when Shen Ge searched terms like “anomaly,” “ghost space,” or “spectral domain,” the results were… educational.

* “Momoi’s Newest Anomaly Cosplay—Three Words: Heart-Stopping!”

* “High School Anomaly Incident: Nagano’s 100 Missing Panties!”

* “Spectral Domain Expansion: Erika’s Time-Stop Game!”

* “Tears, Tantrums, T*****: Sensei’s Guide to Spectral Pleasure!”

“…”

The internet is a treasure trove.

As expected of Japan’s national heritage, even anomalies couldn’t escape being linked to certain “educators.”

With his current mindset firmly on anomalies (and not cultural studies), Shen Ge tried different search terms. While he found little concrete info, urban legends stood out—

* “On foggy days, people enter an empty world where a masked beauty asks, ‘Am I pretty?’”

* “After rain, a town’s lanterns turn into giant floating heads that mimic loved ones, begging to be let in.”

Many legends featured terms like “empty world” or “head lanterns,” making it hard not to connect them to anomalies.

“So, the more urban legends a region has, the higher its anomaly frequency?” Shen Ge mused, shifting focus to domestic folklore.

The findings were telling:

* “Amusement Park Haunted House: Visitors swear they saw a real ghost—‘Totally worth the ticket!’”

* “Elderly ‘Knocking Ghost’ in Dachang City identified as student’s long-deceased grandfather.”

Though mainstream platforms censored such “news,” paranormal forums were rife with them. Peel back the layers, and many legends aligned with anomaly behavior—some even tracing back to ancient ghost stories.

Deng Yuqi’s comment about the SRD’s “years of operation” hinted that anomalies weren’t new. But recent years saw a surge in incidents. Despite authorities’ efforts, the internet made containment impossible.

Case in point: Shen Ge soon found a new spin on the “ghost car” incident—

“Man in downtown area refuses to pay fare, sets taxi on fire!”

Shen Ge: “…”

Goddammit.