Ace slowly got up from the floor, mentally closing his status screen. He decided to secure the room first before doing anything else. He crept over to the en-suite bathroom, peaking his head in slowly to make sure there was nothing else lurking in the shadows.
Empty. Perfect.
He pulled the bathroom door shut, then backed away and closed the heavy oak office door, making sure to keep the latch as quiet as possible. Once he finally had the room secured, he made his way back over to the mahogany desk and slumped into the leather chair.
He looked down at himself. His favorite graphic tee was soaked in foul, black, mutated blood and cold sweat. His denim jeans were completely ruined, massive tears ripping across the knees and thighs where the zombified Director had grabbed him. His sneakers were gross, wet, and squishy from the bathroom sludge. His functional survival gear was literally zero.
His eyes shifted to the floor, landing on the stainless-steel Tensa Zangetsu replica lying a few feet away among the shattered glass. He thought about it. He had Upgrade Points now. It was time to put them to use.
He walked over, picked up the replica sword, and brought it back to the desk.
> [Item Detected: Stainless Steel Prop (Rank 0 - Mundane)]
>
"Trace," Ace whispered.
A brilliant sapphire-blue glow traveled from his chest down his arm, slowly enveloping the weapon. As the energy washed over the steel, Ace felt himself seemingly merging with the blade. He began to instinctively understand each and every inch of it—all the imperfections from the cheap machine forging, the brittle tang, the low-grade materials, and the cheap paint used to make it the perfect cosplay accessory. It practically guaranteed the weapon would shatter if actually used for offense.
But if he was correct in how this Genesis system functioned, he had a fix for that. In the game Genesis Online, his character had been a Spellblade focusing on Arsenal Magic and weapon spells. He had traveled the game world summoning and binding magical weapons to augment his abilities. Now that the system was real, he wasn't sure how much was exactly the same—he hadn't seen a "Class" option yet—but it was fine. He just had to test the limits.
As the tracing process finished, the system chimed.
> [Weapon Memory Scan Initiated...]
> [ERROR: Weapon Memory Not Available. Please designate Weapon Memory for Arsenal Conversion.]
>
Ace paused, confused, as a blank data-input panel opened in his vision. Hmm, do I just type it in? But I don't even have a keyboard. Ace thought about it, then decided to try thinking directly at the screen. It worked. The cursor blinked, responding to his thoughts. He poured every piece of information he could remember about the sword into the system—all its lore, its transformations, its incredible powers, and its immense speed. As the data filled the screen, the system generated a visual representation in his mind's eye, replacing the anime's main character with himself, completing all the iconic strikes and movements as the weapon's history compiled.
Finally, after exhausting everything he could remember, the screen shifted.
> [Weapon Memory Accepted.]
> [Soul Sword: Zanpakuto Zangetsu added to Arsenal Matrix.]
> [ERROR: Armory Core Unavailable. Conceptual Weapon cannot be manifested.]
>
Ace frowned. He remembered now. The Armory Core was a class item you picked up in the early game of Genesis Online that gave you access to your Arsenal Domain. Without it, his manifestation powers were severely handicapped. There was nothing he could do about it until he found a high-tier jewel or crystal out in the world that he could use in place of the magic core from the game.
Since he couldn't manifest the true, conceptual blade from his Arsenal Matrix yet, he would just have to work with the physical knockoff in his hands.
He focused his intent and selected his other ability. "Reinforce."
> [Action: Reinforce Item. Cost: 5 UP]
>
The sapphire energy flared again, surging directly into the cheap steel. He watched as the metal hissed and compressed, the molecular structure rewriting itself. It wasn't a god-tier anime weapon, but it was no longer a mundane, unusable prop. The system had turned a flimsy toy into a real, forge-ready, perfectly balanced katana. And for now, that was good enough.
> [Item Upgraded: Steel Katana (Rank 1 - Common)]
> [Current UP: 0]
>
Ace looked over at the red leather trench coat hanging on the rack. He thought about taking it and using Trace on it to add it to his system, but the sheer mental strain of the last few minutes, combined with the lingering terror of the attack, had left him feeling drained and weary. He decided to let it be for the moment.
He needed peace of mind, and to get that, he needed to secure his home base. The Director's office was a dead-end, a one-way kill box. If a horde pushed through that door, he'd be trapped against the glass. This was not where he was going to make his stand.
He stood up from the desk, gripping his newly forged katana. He took one last look at the Director's desiccated remains and the blood-stained brass trophy that had ended it. He shuddered at the revelation of what his life had just become, tightened his grip on the hilt, and prepared to step out and secure the 40th floor.