In the humming, neon-drenched arteries of New Eridu, where Hollows whisper secrets and Bangboo scurry like living charms, a quiet rhythm governs the rise of every Proxy. It is the steady heartbeat of material farming—a ritual as inevitable as the sunrise over Sixth Street. Since the game first opened its doors in 2024, and now in the flourishing chaos of 2026, Agents still sharpen their W-Engines, hone their skills, and lavish resources upon their tiny companions, chasing that perfect build with the fervor of a street poet chasing the perfect rhyme. There is simply no escape from the beautiful, relentless grind, and those who embrace it learn to hear a kind of music in the clatter of rewards.
Before one can plunge into this dance of acquisition, a small pilgrimage must be completed. A fresh proxy, still blinking at the kaleidoscope of city lights, must first navigate the opening chapter’s trials. The critical moment arrives after a fateful Commission alongside the phantom-thief Nekomata, a blur of feline grace and mischief. Once the dust settles, an objective beckons: take the company car to the HIA Club. It feels less like a chore and more like receiving the keys to a hidden world. Thus, the gates to material farming swing open, and the first lesson in resource alchemy begins.
For a player fresh off the tutorial, the cardinal rule is to carpe diem with their Battery charge. Unlike currency that gathers dust, Battery regenerates over time, singing its siren song of potential. Letting it sit at cap is like letting a fresh cup of coffee go cold—simply unbearable. The smartest early play is to pour that energy into upgrade materials, killing two birds with one stone: depleting the Battery so that regeneration begins anew, and simultaneously rocketing their Inter-Knot level forward. It is the old “mo’ money, mo’ grinding” truth, wrapped in a stylish, anime-slick package. And the destination for this Battery burn is always the same: the HIA Club, that unassuming haven where Bertha stands behind the counter, ready to route every Proxy to their daily bread and butter.
Once inside, a conversation with Bertha unlocks the Combat Simulation page—a command center of sorts, glowing with promise. Here, four categories unfurl like a menu at a five-star joint: Basic materials for Agent leveling and the ever-essential Dennies, then specialized catalogs for Agent skills, W-Engine ascension, and later, the Tuning materials for Drivers (the equivalent of Artifacts in other Hoyoverse realms, but with their own New Eridu swagger). The layout is simple, yet deep enough to make a min-maxer’s heart sing. No auto-battle system exists to coddle the lazy; this city respects effort. Yet, in a stroke of true player-friendly design, Proxies can twist the difficulty and the foe lineup to their liking. One can, as the old saying goes, “have their cake and eat it too,” tailoring encounters to exploit elemental advantages or simply to flatten the most agreeable enemies in record time.
What truly sets this grind apart is the ingenious wave customization. A battle plan in the Combat Simulation is not a fixed chunk of suffering; it is a slider of risk and reward. Each additional slot ramps up the number of enemy encounters, the Battery cost, and the bounty of materials. Need a single, precise type of seal from a specific faction? Pinpoint it. Wish to breeze through a duo of waves with an Electric team against machines? Go right ahead. The system lets players “get their ducks in a row” before every fight, ensuring that even the most repetitive farming session can become a personalized, almost meditative exercise. For the veteran who has been at this since the early days of 2024, this flexibility is a balm—a way to keep the daily grind fresh and efficient in 2026, when one’s roster is likely deep and varied.
Contrast this with other hollows in the Hoyoverse cosmos: no auto-play, no idle loafing. Here, every dodge, every Chain Attack, every satisfying shing of a W-Engine is manual. Yet, the HIA Club rewards that involvement by letting you “steer the ship” through enemy lineups. In certain stages, the roster of foes can be handpicked—perfect for squaring off against mobs your team counters with glee, thus turning a potential slog into a sprint. It is the quintessence of “work smarter, not harder,” a philosophy that echoes through the streets where every bangboo entrepreneur nods in approval.
After that inaugural visit, the HIA Club is forever etched into the map, a single teleport away from the Random Play Staff Room. Interestingly, that same Staff Room also gifts a VR Device—a nifty tool for combat tutorials and Agent trial runs where one can learn the nuances of a new character without burning a drop of Battery. But let’s not muddle the two: VR sessions are for learning choreography; material farming is for the real performance, and that stage exists only at the HIA Club. It’s like comparing a rehearsal mirror to a sellout concert. Both matter, but only one fills the pockets with Dennies and polish.
The grind itself, when embraced with the right mindset, becomes a kind of cityscape poetry. A Proxy loads up a team they adore, sets the enemy encounter to a comfortable number, and then plunges into the familiar back-and-forth of combat, pockets slowly fattening with expedition logs, certification seals, and the occasional glint of a rare drop. In 2026, with the ever-expanding cast of colorful Agents, this loop remains the beating heart of progression—essential for those eyeing the toughest Shiyu Defense nodes or the latest Hollow Zero expeditions. The VR Device may have taught them the steps, but the HIA Club is where they earn the right to dance.
And so the cycle continues, a silver thread woven through the narrative. Old Bertha remains a silent confidante, the Combat Simulation her domain, endlessly serving the hungry and the ambitious. The wise Proxy knows that every Battery spent is a step closer to perfection, that the crowd’s roar in a Hollow raid is built on the quiet, consistent hum of the HIA Club’s simulation chambers. There is no escaping the material chase, but with a customized battle plan and a heart full of purpose, one turns the grind into a groove—a personal, rhythmic ascent through the ranks of New Eridu’s finest. In the end, it’s not just about the materials; it’s about the spirit of the city itself, forever in motion, forever demanding just one more run.