The streetlights outside the shop flickered, casting long, distorted shadows across the pavement. Allen leaned back in his creaky wooden chair, the cool glass of the window resting against his forehead. To any passerby, he was just an eighteen-year-old shopkeeper lost in the night, but behind his eyes, two worlds were colliding.
The memories of Earth—of concrete jungles, airplanes, and a moon that stayed silent—were still vibrant, clashing with the reality of the last eighteen years. Here, the moon was a fractured pearl, and the "planes" in the sky were often leather-winged drakes.
"Steel ships became graveyards," Allen whispered to the empty room, his voice barely audible over the hum of the incubators. "And the skyscrapers didn't fall to bombs; they fell to Behemoths."
He traced a finger along the glass, tracing the outline of a distant, glowing nebula.
"Nine bonds," he mused. "Nine chances to link a soul to the cosmos. Most people see a dragon and think of a weapon. They see a tamer and think of a soldier." He turned his gaze toward a small, sleeping beast in a nearby habitat—a Common-rank Star Hare. "But the Evolvers... they're the ones playing God. Rewriting the script fate wrote at birth."
He thought about the hierarchy he'd spent the last few days cataloging in his mind, comparing his Earthly logic to this world's mystical laws.
"A Common beast is a prisoner of its own blood," Allen muttered. "But if an Evolver finds the right path, that prisoner becomes a King. Telepathy is the first sign of that transcendence. If I can push a beast from Common to Epic..."
He paused, a faint, sharp smile crossing his face.
"A Common beast won't whisper a word to you until it hits the Star Constellation Realm. It takes a lifetime of growth just to say 'hello.' But the high-born? The Legendary ones?" He tapped the glass. "They're geniuses from the cradle. They'll be speaking into your mind by the Star Core Realm while the others are still acting on instinct."
He looked at his own hands, reflecting on his dual perspective.
"In my old world, we changed the environment to suit us. In this one, we change the very essence of life to survive. I wonder..." He glanced at the dusty journals on his desk. "How many 'hidden paths' are just waiting for someone with a different set of eyes to see them?"
The wooden stairs creaked under Allen's weight as he climbed to the small loft above the shop. The air smelled of dried herbs and the faint, ozone-like scent of Aether from the incubators below. He collapsed onto his thin mattress, the moonlight through the skylight tracing the lines of his tired face.
He closed his eyes, but his mind wouldn't go silent. The memories of Earth acted like a filing cabinet, helping him categorize the chaotic power of this world into something he could finally master.
"Nine tiers," he whispered into the darkness, his breath hitching as he felt the faint swirl of energy in his chest. "Nine steps to becoming a god."
He focused on the small spark within him.
"I'm still just a kid in the Star Dust Realm," he sighed, a self-deprecating smile touching his lips. "Mid-stage. I can barely light a candle with this 'awakened energy,' yet the history books talk about people who can rewrite reality."
His thoughts drifted higher, mapping out the ladder he had to climb.
"First, I need to reach the Star Fragment Realm... I need that space in the Astral Sea to actually house a beast. But the real jump happens at the Star Core." He instinctively rubbed his forearm. "Aether Armor. To have skin as tough as steel just by breathing... that's where the 'human' part starts to fade."
He rolled onto his side, his thoughts accelerating.
"And then the Star Nebula... flight. Not with wings, but by making the air itself your servant. But it's the Star Constellation Realm that really matters for a shopkeeper like me. Perfect Sensory Sync. To see through their eyes, to feel their heartbeat from miles away... that's the true bond."
The room felt cold, but in his mind, he was imagining the higher stages—the terrifying power he'd only heard stories about.
"The Star Galaxy Realm," he murmured, his voice growing heavy with sleep. "To project your soul into the world. If I'm angry, the room burns. If I'm calm, flowers grow from the floor. And beyond that... the Supernova... teleportation. You don't walk; you just arrive."
His breathing slowed, the line between memory and dreams blurring.
"The Quasar stage is the weirdest one... beasts becoming human. Walking among us, speaking our tongue. And the Universe Realm? Creating life from nothing?"
He shifted under his blanket, the faint glow of the Mid-stage Star Dust energy pulsing rhythmically in his chest like a second heart.
"Eighteen years as an orphan in this world, and I'm just at the bottom of the mountain. But with Earth's logic and these memories..." his eyes drifted shut. "I'm not staying at the bottom for long."
The moonlight shifted across Allen's bed, highlighting the frustration etched on his face even in sleep. His subconscious was a whirlwind of old chemical formulas and new, mystical energy. He turned restlessly, the thoughts of his "weakness" echoing in the quiet room.
"Six years old," he muttered into his pillow, his voice thick with the memory of that day. "That's when the verdict was handed down. While the other kids were sparking with lightning or hardening their skin with earth affinity, I got... this."
He opened his palm in the dark, visualizing the faint, emerald-green glow of his Life Affinity. It felt warm, gentle, and—to most warriors—completely useless in a life-or-death struggle.
"Life Affinity and Creation Talent," he whispered with a dry, sleepy chuckle. "The 'Pure Evolver' curse. No explosive power for the front lines. No combat buffs to help me survive a Behemoth's stomp. It's the reason I'm still stuck at the Mid-stage of the Star Dust Realm while my peers are probably touching the ceiling of the Fragment Realm by now. My energy is too 'soft' for rapid cultivation... too focused on nurturing others instead of hardening myself."
He rolled onto his back, staring up at the dark rafters of his shop's ceiling. In this world, an Evolver who couldn't fight was seen as a high-value target or a fragile scholar. But as the memories of his past life as a Master of Genetic Engineering surged forward, the "weakness" began to look like the ultimate weapon.
"They call it weak because they only see the surface," Allen said, his eyes snapping open in the dark, gleaming with a newfound clarity. "They see 'Life Affinity' and think of a medic. They see 'Creation' and think of a gardener."
He sat up slightly, leaning on his elbows.
"But I've mapped genomes. I've edited the building blocks of existence in a world that didn't even have Aether. With my past life's knowledge of DNA splicing and cellular mutation, these 'Hidden Evolution Paths' aren't mysteries—they're blueprints. My Life Affinity isn't a combat tool; it's the scalpel. My Creation Talent isn't for gardening; it's the laboratory."
A confident, sharp smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"Let them have their fireballs and their lightning strikes. While they're busy polishing their swords, I'll be rewriting the fundamental code of the Star Beasts. I don't need to be fast in cultivation if I can create a Legendary-rank protector before I even hit the Star Core Realm."
He laid back down, the weight of his "weak" talent finally feeling like the greatest head-start a man could ask for.
"I'm a Genetic Engineer in a world of magic. The 'shackles' of fate? I'm going to delete them."
The morning sun fought its way through the narrow gaps between the taller buildings of the market alley, finally hitting the dusty floorboards of the shop. Allen blinked, his internal clock hitting 8:00 AM with the precision of a man who had spent years in a lab.
After a quick, simple breakfast, he descended the creaky stairs. This shop—his "last row" sanctuary—was the result of three years of grueling, disciplined saving. It wasn't in the bustling center where the wealthy Combat Bonders traded Dragons; it was at the very edge of the alley, where the shadows lingered and the foot traffic was thin.
As he flipped the "Closed" sign to "Open," his eyes landed on the centerpiece of his small collection. Rooted in a specialized nutrient tub near the window was an Elite-rank Emerald Willow. Its translucent, jade-like branches swayed slightly, even though there was no breeze.
"In the records, you're just a 'Healer Type,'" Allen murmured, walking over to run a hand along its cool, vibrating bark. "Commonly used for high-end gardens or field hospitals. Safe. Predictable."
He looked at the drooping, elegant branches, his mind flashing back to the legends of his past life—to a specific Donghua he used to watch, where a single willow tree could pierce the heavens and stand against entire worlds.
"You don't have a name yet, do you?" He paused, a spark of ambition lighting up his eyes. "I spent my first eighteen years in this world just trying to survive. But the memories of Earth... they gave me a vision for you."
He leaned in closer, his Life Affinity humming in his fingertips as it connected with the tree's steady pulse.
"Let's call you Liu Shen," he said, his voice firm. "In another world, that name belonged to a Goddess—a Peerless Willow who could suppress the nine heavens. Right now, you're just an Elite-rank healer. But with what I know about genetic sequences and evolution paths... I'll make sure you become the Liu Shen of this world. One day, you won't just be healing wounds; you'll be rewriting the laws of nature."
The tree shivered, its leaves chiming like tiny bells, as if it sensed the weight of the name.
Allen let out a short, practical sigh and grabbed a broom. "But first... we need money. Ambition doesn't pay the rent or buy the high-grade Aether salts we're going to need for your first mutation."
He began sweeping the floor, his movements rhythmic and focused. "Cleaning the shop is the easy part. Finding a customer who's desperate enough to trust an eighteen-year-old at the end of a dead-end alley? That's the real challenge."
The afternoon sun was high, casting long shadows into the back of the shop, when the bell above the door gave a sharp, rusty chime. A young man stepped in, his clothes of fine make, though his expression was one of skeptical desperation. He scanned the modest shelves and the quiet Emerald Willow in the corner before his eyes settled on Allen.
"Are you the owner of this shop?" the young man asked, his voice carrying the weight of someone who had already visited ten other places that day.
Allen leaned against the counter, his expression calm and professional despite his youth. "I am. How may I help you?"
"My name is Caspian," the man introduced himself, stepping further into the dim light. "I'm looking for something... specific. My younger sister recently awakened. She has a Poison Affinity and a Hive Mind Control talent. It's a Swarm-type foundation."
Caspian sighed, rubbing his temples. "The problem is, she's a young girl. Every Swarm-type beast the Academy suggests is a nightmare—bloated acid maggots, jagged-legged spiders, or grey locusts. I want the best Star Beast for her, something high-tier, but I won't have her bonded to a monster that looks like it crawled out of a sewer. Do you have anything that fits? Elite or Rare rank, preferably."
Caspian looked around the small, quiet shop, thinking to himself: There's no such thing. Every high-rank insect is a killing machine with a face only a void-beast could love. Why did I even come to this alley?
Allen's response, however, cut through his internal monologue like a blade.
"I actually have a few unique Insect-type Star Beasts in mind," Allen said, his voice steady. "They aren't 'monstrous' in appearance—in fact, they are quite elegant. They aren't in the shop at the moment, but I can have them delivered here within a day."
Caspian blinked, his skepticism warring with a sudden flicker of hope. "Elegant insects? At an Elite rank?"
"Better than that," Allen continued, his Life Affinity humming faintly as he spoke with the confidence of a master geneticist. "If you find their natural rank unsatisfying, I am also a Star Beast Evolver. I can personally trigger their evolution path and ascend them to Rare rank as a maximum for now."
Caspian's jaw tightened in shock. "An Evolver? You look barely older than my sister. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to force a mutation in a Swarm-type without losing the Hive Mind stability?"
Allen just smiled, a touch of wit in his eyes. "In this world, people see a swarm as a mess of legs and stingers. I see them as a complex biological network. Trust me, Caspian. If you want beauty and power for your sister, come back tomorrow. I'll show you something that the elite shops in the city center wouldn't even dream of."
Caspian reached into the inner pocket of his coat, pulling out a sleek, metallic credit card that caught the dim shop light. He tapped it against his palm, his eyes narrowing slightly as he regained his composure.
"If you can truly deliver an elegant Swarm-type and guarantee a Rare-rank evolution, price is secondary," Caspian said, his voice dropping to a more serious tone. "I'll pay half the deposit right now to secure the order. It's a steep investment for a shop in this alley, though."
He paused, his hand hovering over the counter. A flicker of caution crossed his face.
"But before I swipe this... I need to see your credentials. You're young, and 'Evolver' is a heavy title to throw around. Can you show me your Evolver License?"
Allen didn't flinch. He had expected this. In a world where a failed evolution could lead to a beast's death or a soul-rebound for the tamer, nobody trusted a face this young without proof.
"Fair enough," Allen replied smoothly. "A wise buyer always checks the seal."
He reached into the drawer behind the counter and pulled out a heavy, silver-rimmed card. It wasn't the gold-plated license of a Master, but the moonlight reflecting off its surface revealed the official holographic emblem of the Global Evolver Association.
The card displayed Allen's photo, his Life Affinity registration, and the official stamp of a Junior Star Beast Evolver.
Caspian took the card, inspecting the micro-etched security runes. "Junior rank... but the seal is authentic. And your affinity is 'Life'—that explains the confidence. Most Combat Evolvers wouldn't touch a Swarm mutation with a ten-foot pole for fear of the feedback."
He handed the license back, looking at Allen with a newfound, if guarded, respect.
"Alright, Evolver. You have the license, and you have my attention," Caspian said, sliding his credit card across the counter. "The deposit is yours. I'll be back tomorrow at this exact time. If you show my sister a monster, I take my money back. If you show her what you promised... I might have more business for you in the future."
Allen accepted the card with a faint, knowing smile. "Tomorrow afternoon, then. Tell your sister to prepare her mind for a Hive Link; she's going to need it."