Chapter 72 72: The Gene Lock Tier 4

— — — — — — When Larentia mentioned a "gift from the World," Veyron's mind ran wild with possibilities. Maybe it was some sacred treasure that'd boost all his stats by +999. Or a devastating weapon that could level cities and nations, possibly even sink a continent. He even thought it might just be a straightforward transfer of points straight into his chat group account—simple, effective. What he didn't expect was for the gift from the World of Kuroinu... to be its very last shred of fate. Yeah—fate. A concept that sounds super abstract and mystical... because it is. When your luck's riding high, it feels like the world is cheering you on. Even if you're not that skilled, everything just seems to fall into place. That's fate. But when your luck runs dry, it's like the universe itself is working against you. No matter how powerful you are or how many tricks you have, all you can do is look up at the sky and ask, "Why me?" That, too, is fate. Veyron had seen it before—people blessed with ridiculous good fortune. Take Saeko Busujima and her team from the Highschool of the Dead world. Just a bunch of girls—high schoolers, a nurse, a couple of cops—and yet they managed to take over a freakin' naval base while the rest of the world crumbled to the undead. Why? Because five of those nine girls were basically walking embodiments of world-level fortune. But unlike that world, which still had a fighting chance, Kuroinu was getting torn apart by the projection of an evil god. There wasn't much room left for fate to work its magic. The World in Highschool of the Dead still had long-term plans. Even though those nine girls were humanity's last hope, the world wasn't about to throw everything at them. Worst case? Let the planet rest and wait another few billion years for intelligent life to pop up again. But Kuroinu? That thing was living on borrowed time, desperately struggling to keep anything alive under the crushing weight of a divine invasion. So when half of that world's final strand of fate merged with Veyron, he felt it. Like a divine instinct switched on in his mind. Not wanting to waste a single benefit, he instantly directed all that "blessed insight" into his progress toward achieving a key stage of control. The Gene Lock Tier 4. At this level, your control over energy and physical power becomes absurdly precise. Every ounce of force you unleash hits with the impact of a hundred. The Gene Lock progression was like that: Tier 1: Allows the user's body and mind to operate on a higher level—enhanced reflexes, clearer thinking, and better performance across the board. Tier 2: Grants absolute control over the physical body—every muscle movement, every nerve, all perfectly regulated. Tier 3: Unlocks absolute control of the brain—enhanced awareness, mental resilience, and even multitasking on a superhuman level. Tier 4: Genetic Manipulation. This is where Veyron now stood. Tier 4 Gene Lock lets you tweak your genetic code down to the tiniest detail, optimizing your biology for maximum combat performance. Every flaw? Corrected. Every latent potential? Brought to the surface. It's like hitting the fast-forward button on human evolution—rewriting your DNA to create the best version of yourself. Essentially, it allows complete genetic reconstruction to enhance and optimize every trait that matters in battle. Veyron had felt this tier after unlocking Tier 3—during that brutal final battle near the Sunflower Field, when Kazami Yuuka unleashed her serious mode and pushed him to his limits. His original goal? Reach this Tier 4 within three years. Ambitious, but not impossible. But now—with this chunk of fate accelerating his growth—it felt like someone had handed him a cheat code. When the aura of good fortune finally faded, Veyron opened his eyes and let out a long, steady breath. ... "You're awake? Took you long enough—we've been waiting for thirty years!" A playful voice greeted him. It was Merlin. "Thirty years?" he blinked. Pulling up the chat group interface, Veyron checked the timestamp. "Wait, it's only been three days." "Three days is still insane," Merlin said with a grin. "You know I woke up before day one was even over?" "Guess you got a pretty sweet haul, then." Veyron gave her a once-over. She still had that calm, gentle smile—but he could feel her mood was sky-high. "Looks like you did too," she shot back with a wink. They both chuckled. "Anyway, we can catch up later," Merlin said, nodding toward the door. "You've got about seven million lovely ladies out there—pure sisters, busty aunties, girls of all ages—lining up to thank you." "...Did you have to emphasize how 'lovely, busty and pure' they are?" "Hm? Was that wrong?" Merlin tilted her head. "I figured you'd like that sort of thing. Compliments from girls who match your taste—it's supposed to be universally satisfying, right?" "I'm not disagreeing." Veyron nodded. "But how are you so sure they match my taste?" "Because no matter what your 'type' is, there's someone out there who fits it," Merlin said with a thumbs-up. "Speaking of which... I still don't know what kind of girl you're into." "I think you are pretty great, Merlin." "Eh? For real?" she perked up. She jumped up, shrinking midair—not all the way to her usual tiny size, but to about half a meter. She floated over and perched on his left shoulder, beaming. "Then that's perfect! I think you're a pretty amazing guy too, Veyron!" "..." "Uh... Now I'm kinda curious," he said, glancing at her. "What did you do with your share of that world-given fate?" As he spoke, he noticed she'd cloaked herself in that illusion again—the one that made her invisible to ordinary people. "Seriously? We're about to leave, and you're not even gonna show yourself to them?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "I was going to," Merlin hummed, swaying to some old medieval-sounding tune Veyron didn't recognize. "But then I changed my mind." She grinned, voice full of mischief. "Figured it'd be more fun to let you have the spotlight all to yourself~." "Enjoy~" . . .