No one can really say when humanity lost control of the world—only that, at some point, it happened so completely there was no taking it back. Lands that once held cities, highways, and quiet towns are now crawling with extraterrestrial beasts. Nearly ninety percent of the planet belongs to them. Humans survive in what’s left: walled cities, sealed zones, scattered strongholds that feel more like shelters than homes. Step outside those borders and you’re gambling your life. Sometimes you don’t even get the chance to regret it.
The reason humanity hasn’t vanished entirely comes down to one hard-earned answer—genetic martial arts. It isn’t elegant, and it isn’t safe. This form of cultivation tears past the limits of the human body and forces it to adapt or break. Those who survive become something more than ordinary people. Strong enough, at least, to stand in front of the monsters and buy everyone else another day.
The foundation of this system comes from Genetic Martial Theory, proposed years ago by Professor Mendelstedt. His idea was simple in concept and terrifying in implication: the human body is locked. Strength, speed, endurance—even lifespan—are sealed behind genetic locks. Martial cultivation is the key meant to break them open. Direct genetic manipulation, though, is forbidden. That line, once crossed, enters territory long believed to be reserved for gods. The few who manage to shatter these locks are called genetic martial artists, and whether they like it or not, they become the last barrier between humanity and extinction.
Lin Feng was never meant to stand among them.
At Central Sea University, he’s known less for talent and more for fragility. Lin Feng was born with Atypical Organ Failure, a congenital condition that has been slowly destroying him from the inside out. His organs weaken year after year. No treatment works because the problem isn’t external—it’s embedded in his genes. Doctors don’t bother sugarcoating it anymore. Three years, maybe less. For someone like him, martial cultivation isn’t difficult—it’s impossible. His body can’t even handle the basics without collapsing.
But Lin Feng has never been good at accepting conclusions handed to him by others.
While students his age train in combat halls or chase rankings, he spends his time buried in the university library. Genetics texts. Theoretical papers. Half-forgotten research that most people dismiss as useless speculation. He isn’t looking for fame or power. He’s just trying to stay alive. Somewhere between what is allowed and what is forbidden, he believes there has to be a gap—a crack he can squeeze through.
That belief leads him to something that shouldn’t be there.
Hidden behind old shelves, collecting dust like it’s been forgotten by time itself, Lin Feng finds a metal sphere. No labels. No explanation. The moment he touches it, the thing reacts, melting into a strange liquid and sinking into his body. What follows makes no sense by modern standards. The object reveals itself as a Genetic Fusion Device—technology so advanced it feels less like science and more like a relic from another era entirely.
This device doesn’t rely on martial cultivation. It doesn’t care about genetic locks. Instead, it allows Lin Feng to extract and fuse genes from other organisms, directly inheriting their traits. It’s powerful, yes—but also brutally restrictive. Human and plant genes are off-limits. Choosing a gene stronger than his current genetic level risks total collapse. For someone already dying, every attempt is a roll of the dice.
Lin Feng rolls anyway.
His first fusion uses the gene of a Wild Bovine, a dire beast valued for raw physical power rather than rarity. The process nearly breaks him. Pain floods his body as muscle, bone, and organ structure are forced to change. When it ends, the difference is unmistakable. His strength increases. His failing organs stabilize. His body feels heavier, denser—real in a way it never did before. Along with that come strange dreams, fragments of ancient bloodlines filled with endless plains, roaring herds, and figures whose strength seems almost mythic.
For the first time in his life, Lin Feng wakes up without feeling like his body is a ticking clock.
Of course, change like that doesn’t stay invisible. Whispers spread through Central Sea University. His presence draws attention, especially from Du Qiang, a senior martial artist with a reputation for both strength and a bad temper. Add Qu Chen—the talented martial arts club president—into the mix, and tension becomes unavoidable.
Under Lei Sheng, a Grade Seven professional martial artist, Lin Feng is introduced to deeper ideas like true intent—the state where a cultivator fully embodies a beast’s essence. When Wild Bovine’s Might is demonstrated, something inside Lin Feng responds instinctively. The resonance is wrong. Too natural. Too deep.
When a public challenge finally comes, Lin Feng steps forward. Not as a dying student clinging to theories hookups, but as someone standing at the edge of a forbidden road. Where that road leads isn’t clear yet—but it’s already clear that the rules of this world are starting to bend around him.
