develop ideal genes

Leon woke to the golden glow of morning filtering through the wooden shutters of his rented room. For a moment, he lay still, letting the warmth sink into his skin. It had been so long since he'd felt truly rested. No damp earth beneath him, no chilling night air biting at his skin—just soft sheets and a quiet room.

But reality soon settled in.

He had things to do.

After dressing in his newly bought clothes, he headed downstairs, where a simple breakfast was included with his stay—a bowl of porridge with a drizzle of honey and a small loaf of warm bread. It was plain but satisfying, and compared to the tough, half-cooked monster meat he had been eating for weeks, it felt like a feast.

With his hunger sated, he set out toward the spatial carrier station, where he would depart for the capital.

But something was off.

The streets, once lively and chaotic, were eerily quiet.

Shops that had been open the night before were now shuttered. Stalls that had lined the roads were gone, their usual merchants nowhere to be seen. The air felt heavier, almost as if the city itself was holding its breath.

And then, when he reached the station, he found the doors firmly shut.

"Why is it closed?" Leon frowned. The station was supposed to operate daily—travelers constantly moved between cities using these teleportation gates. Yet today, it was abandoned.

A strange feeling settled in his gut.

Then, he noticed movement.

A stream of people, all walking in the same direction.

Curious, Leon followed the crowd, their hushed voices murmuring with anticipation. As he walked, the street widened, leading to a vast open plaza where hundreds of people had gathered.

They lined both sides of the road, standing shoulder to shoulder, their gazes fixed ahead as if waiting for something.

Leon glanced around, then leaned toward a man standing nearby. "What's going on?" he asked.

The man, middle-aged with streaks of gray in his hair, turned to him, eyebrows raised in amusement. "You're not from here, are you?"

Leon shook his head.

The man smirked. "Today is the Day of Exile."

Leon frowned. "Exile?"

The man nodded, crossing his arms. "Every month, four prisoners are chosen and cast into the Gate of the Abyss. It is done to appease the Bringer of the End that resides within."

Leon narrowed his eyes. "Bringer of the End?"

The man chuckled, as if the mere mention of the name was absurd. "You must really be new if you don't know that. Here—let me explain.

"Monsters are categorized into six ranks. The lowest are Newborn Monsters, fresh and weak. Next, Transformed Monsters, those that have begun to evolve. Then come the Intermediate Monsters, dangerous but manageable.

"Above them are the Breaking Monsters—powerful enough to devastate a town. Then there are the Kings of Monsters, who rule over hordes and bring ruin to entire cities.

"And finally," he continued, lowering his voice slightly, "the Bringers of the End."

Leon felt a chill crawl up his spine.

The man smirked at his reaction. "They are legends. Disasters in flesh. Only one has ever been seen, and even then, it was just for a moment. The rest is all rumors. Some say it is a beast, others claim it is something worse—something beyond monsters."

Leon clenched his jaw, his thoughts drifting back to the creatures he had fought in the forest. How strong had they been compared to this ranking system?

The man studied him for a moment, then laughed. "Don't look so serious, kid. You won't see much with your height."

Before Leon could react, the man suddenly held out his hand. "Here. Take this."

Leon hesitated. But something in the man's eyes pulled him in.

Against his better judgment, he reached out and grasped the man's hand.

And then—the world vanished.

The bustling crowd, the city around him—everything disappeared.

Leon gasped, his body swaying as if he were weightless. What was happening