Kai picked the second part of the Wolfram Institute—the one where GeneDevourers fight, bleed, grow, and either rise or disappear. Seren could've picked this path too, and maybe she would've done well, but Kai had let her stay on the normal side. She deserved that peace, that illusion of normal life, even if she had to keep her parasite a secret, even if that lie had weight.
It was Monday now. Just yesterday, both of them cleared an F- ranked Rift—one that involved saving a goblin village that had been overrun by corrupted wolves.
They handled it fast, like clockwork, and walked out without a scratch. Kai's host level jumped to 7, and Sekh did too, although the bastard kept asking for stronger prey like he was starving.
He also earned another €3,000 from the Rift, which he added to the growing pile he kept hidden, because power needed money and plans needed funding.
But that wasn't the important part.
He had been training, relentlessly. Because in this side of the Wolfram Institute, you didn't get any handouts or grace periods. The moment you enroll, they throw you into the lowest classroom tier—Classroom 5—like dumping fresh meat into a cage of half-starved dogs.
And from there, you have to climb.
The system was brutal. Every year, every month, even every week, your performance was judged. To rise through the classrooms, you had to prove you were stronger than everyone else in your tier. Classroom 5 was the bottom.
Classroom 1 was the top, filled with monsters who could crush cities, some who had only been enrolled a year ago but were already whispering threats to world powers. Age didn't matter here—only strength and how much destruction your genes could carry.
And even within each classroom, there was a ranking board. If you made it into the top 7, you would be promoted. If you dropped into the last 7, you'd be expelled, and your parasite would be extracted and sterilized. You'd live the rest of your life without power, without a second chance.
In higher classes, getting ranked last meant demotion.
That was what Kai remembered. That was the pressure every student carried.
As he stepped into Classroom 5, the sterile lights flickering above and the scent of blood and sweat still lingering in the air from earlier sparring sessions, his eyes drifted to the screen in the corner.
The ranking system flickered in front of him, the names shifting slightly as the system processed recent updates.
He scanned the list.
Rank 25: Ottokai Von Seraphis — F-
His lips twitched.
I'm last, huh... Why am I this unlucky?
Then he sighed and sat at the back corner, because he had already accepted it—this was war. And luck didn't mean a damn thing here.
Then someone tapped Kai on the shoulder. It was casual, but the pressure behind the tap wasn't light. Kai glanced over and saw a guy standing there with a smirk, hands in his pockets, posture relaxed like he owned the whole classroom.
"So you're the new classmate, huh?" the guy said, his voice clear but easygoing.
Kai narrowed his eyes. "Who are you?"
"I'm Reinhardt. Reinhardt Vogelstein," the guy said, grinning. "Nice to meet you, Ottokai, right? Or should I call you Kai? People already talked about how a noble suddenly dropped into Classroom 5."
"Call me whatever," Kai muttered.
Reinhardt nodded, then pulled up a small holopad and pointed to the schedule. "Alright, so listen. Today's not gonna be a chill intro day. We've got to enter an F+ Rift later in the afternoon. It's part of the professor's evaluation. Every time a new batch comes in, they get tossed into one of these just to see who's deadweight."
Kai raised an eyebrow. "What, they want to kill us off early?"
"Pretty much," Reinhardt chuckled. "But they'll save your corpse, so it's fine."
Kai didn't respond, but he stood straighter.
"Anyway," Reinhardt continued, walking beside him now, "before we head out later, I'll give you the quick tour. You'll need to know where stuff is, especially if you want to survive the month."
He pointed down the hall.
"That way's the main Training Room. It's open twenty-four seven unless someone's booked it for high-rank sparring, so go wild. It's where most people dump their time unless they're confident enough to slack off."
He turned and pointed to a sealed vault-like door with several biometric scanners. "Over there's the Gene Vault. You'll need clearance to access it, but eventually, if you get enough points or achievements, you can borrow parasite samples, DNA samples, and plates from the Institute. It's like a candy shop for freaks like us."
They kept walking.
"The cafeteria's dead center, but the food's crap unless you pay extra for supplements. If you're broke, prepare to live off nutrient paste and caffeine."
Then he jabbed his thumb at a hallway glowing blue from the inside. "That's the Simulation Wing. You can run mock rift environments or train mental resistance. But fair warning, if your parasite goes berserk inside, the system logs it and lowers your behavior score. Too many incidents, and you're kicked down to Reform Room status."
Kai didn't say much. He just absorbed it all.
"And finally, the Evaluation Hall. That's where professors judge us, rank us, or demote us if they feel like it. You'll hate that place. We all do."
Reinhardt stopped in front of a digital map pinned on the wall.
Kai looked at the screen, then at his name, still at the bottom of the classroom ranking.
"F+ Rift this afternoon, huh?"
"Yeah," Reinhardt smirked. "And try not to die. We're already short on meat shields."
Then Reinhardt left him without another word, disappearing into the hallway with the same casual swagger. Kai turned and made his way to the Training Room, and the moment he stepped inside, the atmosphere shifted.
It was packed.
Dozens of students were already there, some lifting gene-weighted bars that looked like metal beams, others sparring in reinforced arenas with weapons laced in parasite alloys.
They were older, taller, ripped like mutants, and many of them carried classroom badges that read "3" or even "2" on their shoulder chips.
Kai found an empty mat near the back, away from the attention, and began his warmup. Just basic muscle fiber activation and parasite flow control, the kind of stuff you could do blindfolded.
He trained in silence for a minute—just enough to feel the blood heat in his veins and the parasite syncing rhythmically with each motion—when someone tapped his shoulder again.
He turned and blinked.
It was a kid. No older than thirteen, maybe younger. Short—absurdly short—barely reaching Kai's chest.
His messy brown hair looked like it hadn't seen a comb in days, and his sleeves were too long for his arms.
"Can you help me practice?" the kid asked without hesitation.
Kai tilted his head. "What classroom are you in?"
"Classroom 5," the kid answered. "And I'm second to the last."
Kai froze.
He's ranked higher than me. By one. How am I even that low?
"I'm actually lower than you," Kai muttered, exhaling. "I'm the lowest…"
"But how can you practice that easily?" the boy asked, watching his movements with wide, observant eyes.
"I'm used to practicing," Kai said simply. "That's all it is."
The boy nodded, then Kai stepped aside and started guiding him through simple evasion drills.
Nothing too intense—just enough to make the kid move, dodge, and react without getting hit.
They talked while training, trading comments and footwork.
"What's your name?" Kai asked after a while, finally curious.
The boy puffed his chest slightly, as if this was the one thing he could brag about.
"Emric. Emric Blau."
Then suddenly, just as Kai and Emric were catching their breath on the edge of the mat, the air shifted.
There was a roar of chatter and shuffling feet from the entrance, like the ripple before a storm. Heads turned. Voices started stacking over each other. People were piling up like moths to a flame—and that flame was a girl.
A girl with long golden hair that shimmered under the artificial lights, wearing the standard Wolfram uniform with a shine that made it look custom-tailored. She walked like she owned the floor, like the Institute itself had rolled out a path for her.
It was Seren.
Even some of the higher classroom students—people who didn't even blink when professors walked past—were losing their minds.
"Seren! Seren, I'll protect you!"
"Let me carry your bags!"
"I'm stronger than him, I swear—be mine instead!"
Upperclassmen were inching toward her, offering themselves like they were at a shrine. Guys who could probably rip Kai in half were scrambling for her attention, tripping over their words like lovesick freshmen.
But she didn't even glance at them.
Instead, she walked past the crowd without a word, her gaze locked on one direction. Straight toward Kai.
She stopped right in front of him—still sweaty, still resting on the ground, still looking like the literal bottom of the barrel.
"So you're practicing, huh?" she said, casually.
And before Kai could react, she turned to the crowd with a bored sigh and said, loud and clear, "Sorry guys, but this is my boyfriend."
Then she grabbed his arm like it was nothing and pulled him up, locking it against hers like a perfect couple pose.
The entire training room froze.
"What!? That's the weakest guy here! He's last!" someone shouted from the crowd, and it spread like wildfire.
Kai just blinked, wide-eyed, his brain skipping a beat.
What kind of flag did I just trigger…
"I don't care if he's last," Seren said, her voice cutting through the crowd like a blade. "He saved me. Try better next time, guys."
She didn't say it with sass, or even mockery—it was just fact, like they weren't even competition. The crowd stumbled into a stunned silence.
But then someone stepped forward. The crowd parted without being asked.
A guy with a massive frame, probably twice Kai's width, walked straight toward them. He had broad shoulders, arms like steel beams, and the kind of confident swagger that came from never losing a single fight in your life. The badge on his uniform gleamed—"3." Third highest rank in Classroom 3.
You didn't have to guess if he was strong. You could feel it in the air when he walked.
He stopped right in front of Seren and Kai, eyes narrowing.
"Be mine instead," he said flatly to Seren, as if it was something that was bound to happen.
Then he turned his gaze on Kai, and it was like someone just dropped an iceberg on his spine.
"Tonight, let's fight. Winner gets her."
Kai froze.
He's joking… right?
But the guy's face didn't move. It wasn't a bluff. He was dead serious.
No way in hell I'm beating this guy. He's probably eaten through dozens of rifts, and I just cleared an F- with wolves and spiders…
"Are you scared, huh?" the guy sneered.
Kai's brain screamed yes.
I am. I'm going to die. He's going to break me like glass.
But another voice echoed, low and familiar. Sekh's voice. The parasite's voice.
"If you give her away like some pawn, I'll devour you myself, Kai."
He clenched his fists.
He had no choice. If he backed down, he'd be humiliated, but worse—Seren would be treated like some prize for muscleheads to trade around. And Sekh wouldn't let that go.
So Kai forced the fear down his throat and looked up, eyes sharp, voice cold.
"Fine."
The crowd lost it.
The noise exploded—cheers, shouts, whistles. The room was already pulling up screens, betting on who would win. Names were spreading.
A bottom-ranked weakling versus a top-tier powerhouse?
It wasn't a match. It was a slaughter waiting to happen.
But Kai didn't flinch.
Not because he wasn't scared.
But because he already started thinking—how the hell do I win this?