Chapter 1: Awakening of the Human Inventor (Part 1)
The rain poured down the neon-lit streets of New Elysium like liquid silver. Puddles reflected the distorted holographic billboards advertising luxuries that homeless people like Ryden Voss could only dream about. His stomach growled, gnawing at him like a beast, yet he moved with quiet precision, scanning the alleys for scraps of food or abandoned tech.
He was seventeen, or maybe eighteen—he had stopped counting years after losing his family in the last wave of "evolution wars," battles fought not with armies but with tech-enhanced humans, mercenaries, and mutants who turned cities into hunting grounds. He had no home, no money, no one. Just his mind—his weapon that the world hadn't realized yet.
Ryden crouched beside a dumpster, fingers brushing over a discarded tablet. Broken, cracked, half-burnt circuits—but still alive. For most, it was trash. For him, it was potential. He smiled, the corners of his lips curling slightly. "One day… I won't have to beg."
The Spark
He had always been different. Even as a child, he could see patterns where others saw chaos. Algorithms danced in his mind. Probability, quantum statistics, security protocols—it all clicked like pieces of a puzzle. But no one cared about the homeless genius in the alleys. No one offered him a scholarship, a job, or even a second glance.
Until tonight.
Ryden picked up the broken tablet and flicked it open, despite the sparks and smoke. The screen glitched, but he smiled. His super intelligence—a power he didn't yet fully understand—was awakening. Lines of code, encryption, financial ledgers, and security protocols flew into his vision like ribbons of light. He could see the world's data like a living organism, flowing through every server, every system.
Hack it… why not?
His mind raced. What if he could take everything from the corrupt? The politicians, criminals, corporate overlords who thrived on the misery of the poor. Every digital bank, every offshore account, every fraudulent transaction—what if he could bend it to his will?
His fingers hovered over the tablet screen, instinctively moving. Lines of code typed themselves as he thought. Security firewalls were no obstacle; he saw through them, understood their logic, and bent it like clay.
Just a taste… a small test… nothing too flashy.
Within minutes, money started flowing into an anonymous digital wallet Ryden created. It was small at first, a few thousand credits—pennies for the richest, but unimaginable wealth for a homeless boy.
He leaned back against the dumpster, eyes wide. I… I can do this. I can change my life. Not tomorrow. Not someday. Now.
The First Heist
By dawn, Ryden had hacked into five major corrupt banks. His methods were elegant, invisible—a ghost among systems. Not a single alarm tripped. Millions of credits were quietly transferred to him. In less than twelve hours, he had enough money to live like kings, a fortune in his hands without leaving a trace.
But he didn't stop there. Hacking wasn't just about money—it was control. He could manipulate stock markets, freeze the assets of the guilty, even plant false evidence to disrupt criminal organizations. He smiled darkly at the thought. "The world thinks power is strength… it's ignorance. The mind is the real weapon."
The Awakening
That night, Ryden felt it—the real awakening. His mind expanded beyond numbers and code. He could visualize systems like machines, predict movements, even anticipate the intentions of people in the city. Not just humans—machines, robots, drones—he could see their logic, their weaknesses.
The first time he tested it, he was at the metro station, observing a security drone. It hummed, scanning passersby. Ryden tilted his head, his thoughts flowing like electricity. In seconds, he had calculated its patrol route, predicted every possible angle, and found a blind spot. With a flick of his hand, he manipulated a nearby terminal. The drone stopped midair, froze, then turned to follow him like a loyal servant.
Not just hacking systems… I can hack reality.
This was beyond genius. This was evolution.
A World of Corruption
But the world wasn't waiting for him to play god. Ryden could feel the dark pulse of the city. Corrupt humans ran everything: politicians, crime lords, assassins. Mutants lurked in the shadows of abandoned districts. Dungeon gates—anomalies that spilled monsters into reality—were opening more frequently. And above all, the ranking system of humans meant only the strongest, the smartest, or the most vicious survived.
Ryden understood one simple truth: money alone wouldn't protect him. Intelligence alone wouldn't either. He needed to evolve.
I can't just steal… I need to become untouchable.
The First Encounter
Two hours later, Ryden's instincts screamed danger. A shadow moved too quickly—a man dressed in black, eyes hidden behind cybernetic lenses. A hitman, no doubt. Ryden smiled. Good. A test.
The man lunged, blades hidden in his sleeves. Ryden barely moved, already calculating angles, predicting speed, calculating the probability of every strike. Within seconds, he had disarmed the hitman with a mechanical trap improvised from nearby subway parts—rails, wires, and emergency lighting.
The hitman looked at him, disbelief frozen on his face. Ryden whispered, almost mockingly:
"You're late."
The Realization
As the hitman scurried away, Ryden leaned against the cold metal wall of the subway station, breathing lightly. He closed his eyes. The city was alive—full of predators, full of opportunity. He didn't need luck. He didn't need strength. He had something no one else had: the mind to reshape the world itself.
And that's when the thought struck him, a spark in the darkness:
If I can hack the world… if I can manipulate machines, money, and even humans… why stop at survival? Why not become the architect of evolution itself?
Ryden opened his eyes. A faint blue light shimmered in them—the first sign of his latent power. The rain outside hissed against the city like applause. His journey was beginning.
This was no longer about money. This was about changing the world, one evolution at a time.
✅ End of Chapter 1, Part 1
Part 2 — A Taste of Heaven, Paid by Hell
Ryden Voss stepped out of the underground transit station and into a world he had only ever watched from the shadows.
The rain had stopped.
Above him, skyscrapers pierced the sky like polished blades, their surfaces glowing with animated advertisements—luxury apartments, private security contracts, genetic upgrades, mechanized suits only the elite could afford. Autonomous vehicles hovered silently through the air, doors opening with soft chimes for people who didn't even look at prices anymore.
Rich people.
This was their kingdom.
And tonight—
it was his.
Ryden glanced down at his reflection in a glass storefront. Torn hoodie. Worn shoes. A face too sharp, too calm for someone who had slept under bridges. He smirked.
"Let's fix that."
The First Upgrade
Thirty minutes later, Ryden walked into Aurelius Spire, one of the most expensive luxury complexes in New Elysium. The kind of place where entry alone required background checks, social ranking verification, and a minimum net worth that could buy entire slums.
The receptionist barely looked up.
"Sir, this building is restricted—"
Ryden tapped the desk terminal once.
Just once.
The system froze. Then updated.
ACCESS GRANTED
WELCOME, PLATINUM TIER CLIENT — RYDEN VOSS
The receptionist's eyes widened.
"I— I'm so sorry, Mr. Voss. Would you prefer the sky suite or—"
"The top," Ryden said calmly. "And don't rush."
She swallowed. "O-Of course."
As the elevator ascended silently at impossible speed, Ryden leaned against the glass wall, watching the city shrink beneath him. His heart didn't race. His hands didn't shake.
Instead, a strange emptiness settled in his chest.
So this is it?
This is what they killed for?
The doors opened.
A private floor. Panoramic windows. Artificial sunlight adjusted to his heartbeat. The air itself was filtered, perfected, obedient.
He laughed softly.
"I slept on cardboard yesterday."
Luxury as a Weapon
The first shower lasted an hour.
Hot water cascaded over his skin, washing away weeks of grime, blood, and exhaustion. Automated medical scanners embedded in the walls scanned him silently, repairing micro-injuries, boosting metabolism, recalibrating his nervous system.
A holographic assistant appeared.
"Mr. Voss, would you like me to prepare a meal?"
Ryden paused.
"Surprise me."
Ten minutes later, a table unfolded from the floor, covered in food he had only seen in advertisements. Synthetic meats perfected at the cellular level. Real fruit imported from protected bio-zones. Drinks infused with nano-nutrients worth more than most people's monthly income.
He ate slowly.
Not greedily.
Not desperately.
Like a man reminding himself he was still human.
Money changes nothing, he thought.
Power reveals everything.
Playing With the Elite
The next morning, Ryden walked into a high-end fashion district wearing a tailored coat worth more than an assassin's yearly contract.
He didn't need to try.
Luxury clung to him naturally.
People noticed.
Whispers followed him as he passed—businessmen, ranked fighters, cyber-enhanced elites. Some glanced at him with curiosity. Others with suspicion.
A group of wealthy youths laughed loudly nearby, mocking a poorly dressed delivery boy struggling with a heavy crate.
Ryden stopped.
He walked over, helped the boy lift it effortlessly, then turned to the laughing group.
"You know," Ryden said mildly, "statistically speaking, people like you die first."
They stared.
"One wrong dungeon surge. One rogue AI. One pissed-off mutant."
He smiled politely.
"All the money in the world won't buy competence."
The silence was delicious.
He walked away as their faces burned red.
Teasing them is easy, he thought.
Breaking them will be easier.
The Donation
Ryden didn't forget where he came from.
That afternoon, unseen by cameras, he accessed city welfare systems, hospital funds, and underground aid networks. Not by hacking loudly—by rewriting permissions so it looked like the system itself had decided to be generous.
Shelters received unlimited food credits.
Medical debts vanished overnight.
Education funds appeared in the accounts of children who had never dreamed of school.
A woman in a rundown district wept when her terminal displayed DEBT: CLEARED.
A sick child received immediate surgery authorization without explanation.
No name.
No credit.
No spotlight.
Ryden watched through city surveillance feeds, his face unreadable.
"I'm not a saint," he murmured.
"I'm correcting errors."
Daily Life of the Rich (And Why It Bored Him)
Days passed.
Ryden learned the routines of the wealthy.
Morning fitness programs guided by AI trainers.
Private markets manipulating global stocks over breakfast.
Meetings where lives were traded as numbers.
Evenings filled with artificial entertainment, synthetic pleasure, empty conversations.
He mastered it all in a week.
And hated it just as quickly.
They live like gods, he realized,
but think like livestock.
Luxury wasn't freedom.
It was a cage made of gold.
The Thought That Changed Everything
One night, standing before the city skyline, Ryden's eyes glowed faintly blue as data streams flowed through his mind.
Money.
Influence.
Systems.
Machines.
All hackable.
All controllable.
Then the deeper thought emerged—quiet, terrifying, inevitable.
If I can control money…
If I can control machines…
If I can control information…
His lips curved into a slow, dangerous smile.
"Why not control evolution?"
Far below, sirens wailed.
A dungeon gate alarm.
Another monster outbreak.
Another test.
Ryden turned, coat fluttering behind him.
Luxury was finished.
The real work was about to begin.
End of Chapter 1 — Part 2
Part 3 — When the City Witnessed Evolution
The sirens didn't scream.
They howled.
A deep, metallic alarm echoed across New Elysium, vibrating through skyscrapers and into the bones of everyone who heard it.
⚠ DUNGEON GATE EMERGENCY
⚠ CLASS: UNKNOWN
⚠ EVACUATE IMMEDIATELY
Ryden stood at the edge of his sky-suite balcony, staring down at the city as crimson warning lights ignited one by one. Streets froze. Traffic scattered. Drones swarmed the sky like panicked insects.
And there it was.
A 裂 (rift) in reality itself.
A dungeon gate had opened in the Central Financial District—the worst possible place. A towering oval of distorted space pulsed between two skyscrapers, its surface rippling like liquid obsidian. The air around it screamed, bending light and sound.
Ryden felt it instantly.
Not fear.
Curiosity.
"So that's what everyone's so afraid of."
The Monster Emerges
The gate cracked open wider.
Something crawled out.
Steel groaned as claws the size of cars dug into concrete. A creature emerged—half biological, half something wrong. Its body was layered with black chitin, veins glowing an unnatural violet. Mechanical growths protruded from its spine like rusted cannons, as if evolution itself had made a mistake.
A Hybrid Dungeon Beast.
People screamed.
Security forces opened fire.
Bullets shattered against its armor like rain.
Energy weapons left scorch marks that healed instantly.
The monster roared, and the shockwave flipped vehicles, shattered windows, and turned a city block into rubble.
Ryden tilted his head.
"Biological armor reinforced with foreign metal," he muttered.
"Adaptive regeneration… slow thinking speed."
His eyes gleamed.
"A bad design."
Ryden Enters the Battlefield
He didn't suit up.
He didn't call backup.
He stepped off the balcony.
The air wrapped around him as a hidden platform formed beneath his feet—an invisible construct of repurposed city drones and nano-structures he had quietly hijacked minutes ago.
Ryden descended calmly.
Cameras caught him.
Live feeds exploded.
"WHO IS THAT?"
"IS HE A RANKED HUNTER?"
"HE'S NOT WEARING GEAR—IS HE INSANE?!"
Ryden landed on the street below with a soft click.
The monster turned.
It sensed him.
Good.
Machine-Style Combat: The First Display
Ryden raised his hand.
Nothing happened.
Then—
The street moved.
Manhole covers snapped open. Traffic lights tore themselves free. Construction drones abandoned their tasks mid-air. Every piece of nearby machinery responded to him like loyal soldiers answering a silent command.
Ryden didn't shout.
He thought.
Convert environment into weapons.
Metal screamed.
Cables twisted together into high-speed kinetic whips. Street barriers reconfigured into rotating shields. Drones fused, unfolded, and became autonomous gun platforms.
The monster lunged.
Ryden stepped sideways.
The timing was perfect.
A split-second later, a compressed rail shot—constructed from subway components—pierced through the monster's shoulder, pinning it to a skyscraper.
The beast howled.
Ryden frowned.
"Too slow."
Evolution in Motion
The monster adapted.
Its cannons charged, firing corrosive plasma.
Ryden snapped his fingers.
A wall of rotating metal plates assembled instantly, absorbing the blast and dispersing the energy into the grid powering the city.
Streetlights surged brighter.
Ryden's mind expanded further.
It learns by reaction, he realized.
Then I'll stay ahead.
He spread his arms.
Nanobots—released from hijacked medical drones—swarmed the air, scanning the monster in real time. Data streamed into Ryden's mind.
Weak points highlighted themselves.
Spinal core.
Neural cluster.
Energy feedback loop.
"Found you."
The Kill
Ryden sprinted forward.
Not enhanced by brute strength—but by perfect calculation.
Every step used kinetic recycling plates forming under his feet. Momentum increased without effort. The world slowed.
The monster swung.
Ryden slid beneath it, touching the ground.
The ground answered.
A spear formed—purely mechanical, layered with adaptive circuitry.
He drove it upward.
Straight into the spinal core.
For a moment, the monster froze.
Then its entire body collapsed inward, imploding as its systems cannibalized themselves in a failed attempt to evolve.
Silence.
Then cheers.
Then shock.
Then fear.
The World Reacts
Cameras zoomed in.
Ryden stood amid wreckage, coat untouched, eyes glowing faintly blue.
No ranking badge.
No known identity.
The feeds exploded.
"NEW S-RANK?!"
"HE CONTROLLED THE CITY ITSELF!"
"IS HE HUMAN?!"
In a secure room far away, a man watched the footage.
The Rank #1 Human.
He smiled.
"So you finally appeared."
Ryden's Inner Truth
Ryden looked at the destroyed gate, watching it dissolve into particles.
He felt… nothing.
No pride.
No thrill.
Only certainty.
"This world doesn't need stronger humans," he whispered.
"It needs better designs."
As emergency forces rushed in, Ryden stepped backward—and vanished, hijacking a civilian transport mid-motion and disappearing into the sky.
That night, a new term spread across the net.
THE HUMAN INVENTOR.
THE ONE WHO MAKES EVOLUTION.
And Ryden Voss, once homeless, now stood at the edge of becoming something far more terrifying than a hero.
A Creator.
End of Chapter 1 — Part 3
Part 4 — The World as a Chessboard
The world changed quickly once Ryden Voss stepped into it.
Not loudly.
Not violently.
It changed quietly, like code rewriting itself beneath reality.
Morning Rituals of the Elite
Ryden woke to sunlight that didn't exist.
The windows of his sky suite adjusted automatically to simulate a dawn calibrated to optimal neural activity. His heart rate, brainwaves, and hormonal levels were already analyzed before his eyes opened.
A soft chime echoed.
"Good morning, Mr. Voss," the AI assistant said. "Your body efficiency is at ninety-nine point two percent. Would you like a light cognitive warm-up or global news first?"
Ryden stretched slowly, bare feet touching heated marble floors.
"News," he replied.
Holograms bloomed in the air.
Dungeon gate outbreaks in Eastern Europe.
Mutant riots in South America.
An assassin guild war in Southeast Asia.
A monarch-class entity sighted in deep space.
Ryden watched calmly while sipping a drink infused with nanites that boosted synaptic speed.
Rich people start their day with ignorance, he thought.
I start mine with information.
That was the difference.
Mind Games Without Lifting a Finger
Later that morning, Ryden attended a private financial summit—not because he needed money, but because power gathered there naturally.
Billionaires.
Corporate warlords.
High-ranked humans pretending to be civilized.
He sat silently while they talked.
Listened while they lied.
Predicted every move before it happened.
A man across the table smirked. "Young investors don't usually survive here."
Ryden looked at him gently.
"You sold your biotech shares three days ago," Ryden said. "You're about to regret it."
The man laughed.
Six seconds later, his wrist terminal vibrated.
Biotech stocks surged.
The man's smile collapsed.
Ryden leaned back, crossing his legs.
"I don't play markets," he said softly.
"I decide outcomes."
Silence followed him like a crown.
Slice of Life — Enjoying What He Never Had
Despite everything, Ryden didn't drown himself in ambition.
Some days, he did nothing world-shaking at all.
He walked through cities anonymously.
Ate street food in countries where nobody knew his face.
Sat in cafés watching people argue, laugh, fall in love.
In Paris, he stood beneath the Eiffel Tower at night, hands in his pockets.
In Tokyo, he wandered neon streets, observing machines and humans blend seamlessly.
In Cairo, he watched the sun rise over ancient ruins and thought:
Empires rise.
Empires fall.
But knowledge survives.
Fans would love this—
A godlike genius choosing to live simply, to feel the world before reshaping it.
Global Charity — The Invisible Hand
Ryden didn't announce his charity.
He embedded it.
Across continents, systems began behaving… strangely.
African water purification networks suddenly received unlimited funding
Slum hospitals gained advanced medical AI overnight
Orphanages in war zones received food, education, and security drones
Micro-loans appeared in the accounts of small business owners
Governments couldn't trace it.
Corporations couldn't stop it.
Because it wasn't charity.
It was optimization.
Ryden watched satellite feeds of villages gaining electricity for the first time.
Children laughing.
Mothers crying in disbelief.
He felt no pride.
Only resolve.
"If the world won't evolve on its own," he whispered,
"I'll guide it."
The First True Mind Game
Not everyone was blind.
Somewhere far away, in a chamber filled with floating data and mechanical thrones, someone noticed.
A man sat alone, surrounded by screens showing Ryden's movements.
The Top Rank #1.
The strongest human alive.
The one person the world feared more than dungeon monarchs.
He smiled faintly.
"So," he murmured, "the inventor has awakened."
He replayed footage of financial anomalies, drone behavior, charity networks, dungeon response times.
Patterns.
Too perfect.
Too intelligent.
"He's not conquering," the man said.
"He's preparing."
For the first time in years, excitement flickered in his eyes.
A Conversation Without Words
That night, Ryden felt it.
A pressure.
Like someone staring directly into his mind from across the planet.
He paused mid-step on a balcony overlooking Rio de Janeiro.
Interesting, he thought.
Two geniuses.
Two apex minds.
A silent acknowledgment passed between them—no words, no signals.
Just understanding.
Ryden smiled faintly.
"So you finally noticed me."
Daily Life, Elevated
The days that followed became a balance.
Mornings of analysis.
Afternoons of travel and observation.
Evenings of invention—designing machines, frameworks, future humans.
Sometimes he trained physically, adapting machine-inspired movement into his body.
Sometimes he cooked his own meals, remembering hunger.
Sometimes he laughed—truly laughed—watching rich people pretend their lives mattered more than others'.
He was rich.
But not enslaved by it.
The Hook That Changes Everything
Then the alert came.
Not a normal dungeon gate.
Not a mutant outbreak.
A global-level anomaly.
Multiple gates opening simultaneously.
Different continents.
Perfect timing.
Ryden stared at the data.
This wasn't random.
Someone—or something—was testing the world.
He closed his eyes.
Machines whispered in his thoughts.
Systems aligned.
Evolution awaited input.
"Looks like vacation's over," he said calmly.
His eyes glowed brighter than ever.
End of Chapter 1 — Part 4
Part 5 — The King Wears Rags
Power bored Ryden Voss.
Not the kind that came from machines, money, or systems—those were tools. What truly fascinated him was human behavior. Predictable. Hypocritical. Fragile.
So one morning, as the sun rose over a penthouse worth more than a small nation's GDP, Ryden did something no rich person would ever do willingly.
He dressed like a ghost.
Worn shoes.
Faded jacket.
Messy hair.
A face drained of status.
No luxury implants visible.
No digital signature attached to his identity.
He wiped his existence from public systems temporarily—not erased, just asleep.
Then he walked back into the streets.
The Experiment Begins
The financial district was alive with arrogance.
Executives laughed loudly in cafés that sold drinks costing more than a month's rent. Guards stood idle, armed not against danger—but against the poor.
Ryden entered a luxury café.
The temperature dropped.
Not literally—but socially.
A server glanced at him once, then twice, her polite smile collapsing into irritation.
"We don't allow loitering," she said flatly.
Ryden tilted his head. "I'd like to order."
She scoffed. "You can't afford water here."
Behind him, laughter.
A man in a tailored suit smirked openly. "They really should install filters to keep trash out."
Ryden nodded thoughtfully.
Data confirmed, he thought.
Behavior unchanged.
He stepped aside without protest.
No anger.
No resistance.
He wanted to see more.
Humiliation, Catalogued
At a hotel entrance, security shoved him away without explanation.
At a luxury mall, a child pointed at him and laughed—learned behavior, absorbed early.
At a charity gala, he watched donors pose for cameras while refusing eye contact with starving children just meters away.
Ryden recorded everything.
Not on cameras.
In his mind.
Time stamps.
Expressions.
Micro-reactions.
The rich don't hate the poor, he realized.
They fear becoming them.
The Turning Point
Outside a skyscraper, a drunk executive stumbled and dropped his wallet.
Ryden picked it up.
"Sir," he said calmly, extending it.
The man recoiled. "Don't touch me."
Security rushed in, slamming Ryden against a wall.
"Trying to steal?" one guard snarled.
Ryden didn't resist.
Didn't explain.
Didn't beg.
He only smiled.
That night, the same executive woke up to every offshore account frozen.
Every secret leaked—anonymously.
Stocks collapsed.
Careers ended.
Not out of revenge.
Out of balance.
The Reveal (Without a Reveal)
A week later, headlines exploded.
MYSTERIOUS BENEFACTOR FUNDS GLOBAL POVERTY PROGRAMS
HOMELESS SHELTERS UPGRADED WITH MILITARY-GRADE TECH
HOSPITALS RECEIVE UNLIMITED RESOURCES — DONOR UNKNOWN
Ryden watched from a bench, still dressed in rags.
Around him, the same rich people now spoke nervously.
"Whoever this guy is… he's dangerous."
Ryden chuckled softly.
Correct.
Helping the Poor — Properly
He didn't give money blindly.
He redesigned systems.
Food supply chains optimized.
Education delivered through adaptive AI tutors.
Shelters converted into skill-training hubs.
Medical nanotech deployed quietly to slums first.
Not charity.
Evolution.
A child once sleeping on cardboard now studied advanced mechanics.
A former beggar learned drone repair.
Ryden observed from afar.
Potential unlocked when oppression is removed, he noted.
Daily Life of the Rich (Revisited)
When Ryden returned to his luxury life, nothing felt the same.
Parties felt hollow.
Wine tasted bitter.
Compliments sounded like static.
He saw through every smile.
Every lie.
Every fear.
The rich weren't powerful.
They were fragile hoarders of comfort.
The Final Thought of Part 5
Standing again in his penthouse, Ryden removed the ragged jacket and placed it carefully on a chair.
A reminder.
"I've been poor," he said quietly.
"I've been rich."
His eyes glowed faintly as machines across the city subtly adjusted to his presence.
"And I choose neither."
Outside, another dungeon gate alarm sounded.
Far away, something ancient stirred.
Monarchs.
Aliens.
AI gods.
They had noticed him.
Ryden smiled.
The social experiment was over.
The evolution experiment was about to begin.
End of Chapter 1 — Part 5
Part 6 — The First Legendary Dungeon
The sky over Neo-Seoul tore open.
Not metaphorically.
Reality itself screamed as a golden fracture split the clouds, stretching from horizon to horizon like a wound carved by a god. The air pressure dropped. Gravity distorted. Every electronic device within a hundred kilometers malfunctioned simultaneously.
Emergency broadcasts erupted across the world.
[ALERT: LEGENDARY-CLASS DUNGEON GATE DETECTED]
[THREAT LEVEL: APOCALYPSE]
[EVACUATION IMPOSSIBLE]
Ryden Voss stood on the rooftop of a skyscraper, coat fluttering violently in the wind, eyes glowing with cascading data streams.
"So this is legendary," he murmured.
Unlike normal dungeon gates—blue, unstable, chaotic—this one was perfectly symmetrical. Elegant. Intelligent.
It wasn't a doorway.
It was a challenge.
The World Freezes
Every top-ranked human stopped what they were doing.
Military satellites pivoted.
Alien observers recalibrated their sensors.
Monarchs sitting on thrones of bone and steel smiled for the first time in centuries.
Rogue AIs paused their calculations.
One signal echoed across dimensions:
"A Creator-class entity may emerge."
Ryden felt it.
The dungeon was watching him.
Entry
No alliance could be formed in time. No evacuation could succeed. Neo-Seoul would be erased if no one entered.
Ryden stepped forward.
"Guess it's my turn."
He didn't announce himself. Didn't request permission. Didn't wait for backup.
He walked into the gate alone.
Legendary Dungeon — Interior
The world inverted.
Ryden landed on metallic ground that pulsed like a living heart. The sky inside the dungeon wasn't a sky—it was an endless engine, rotating gears the size of continents, grinding slowly with thunderous inevitability.
This dungeon wasn't magic-based.
It was mechanical evolution incarnate.
Ryden's breath caught.
"…Beautiful."
System messages flooded his vision.
[LEGENDARY DUNGEON: THE FORGE OF ASCENSION]
[RULE: ONLY THOSE WHO CREATE MAY SURVIVE]
Ryden laughed.
"They built this place for me."
Phase One — Machine Beasts
The ground split.
Hundreds of Automaton Beasts rose—hybrids of metal and flesh, gears embedded in bone, weapons fused into limbs. Each one adapted in real time, scanning Ryden, rewriting their own combat logic.
A normal hunter would've been overwhelmed instantly.
Ryden didn't move.
Instead—
His mind exploded outward.
Machine Synchronization — ACTIVE
Every bolt.
Every gear.
Every logic circuit.
He understood them all.
Ryden snapped his fingers.
The beasts froze.
Then turned on each other.
Metal screamed as machines tore machines apart, logic collapsing under rewritten command hierarchies. Ryden walked calmly through the carnage, coat untouched, eyes calculating.
"This is what happens," he said quietly,
"when intelligence meets obedience."
Phase Two — Evolution Pressure
The dungeon responded.
A shockwave blasted Ryden backward, slamming him into a wall hard enough to shatter steel. His vision blurred.
[WARNING: ADAPTIVE COUNTERMEASURES DEPLOYED]
A Legendary Guardian emerged.
It stood humanoid, crowned with rotating halos of code, its body shifting between forms—knight, dragon, machine, god.
It spoke.
"CREATOR CANDIDATE REJECTED."
Ryden wiped blood from his mouth and smiled.
"Wrong variable."
True Combat — Machine God Style
Ryden extended his hand.
The dungeon trembled.
Inventor Authority — PROTOTYPE
Nanomachines erupted from his bloodstream, assembling mid-air into weapons that had never existed before—logic-blades, gravity drones, self-replicating artillery platforms.
He didn't fight.
He designed the fight.
The Guardian adapted.
Ryden evolved faster.
Every attack rewritten.
Every defense countered.
Every second—new inventions born.
The battlefield became a living blueprint.
Final Exchange
The Guardian unleashed its core—an annihilation beam capable of erasing continents.
Ryden didn't dodge.
He calculated.
He stepped forward.
And rewrote the energy's function.
The beam collapsed inward, forming a singularity that Ryden compressed into a coin-sized reactor.
Silence fell.
The Guardian knelt.
"CREATOR… ACKNOWLEDGED."
Ryden placed a hand on its head.
"Good design," he said.
"But outdated."
He dismantled it into raw data.
Dungeon Clear
The engine-sky stopped turning.
A final message appeared.
[LEGENDARY DUNGEON CLEARED — SOLO]
[TITLE ACQUIRED: CREATOR OF EVOLUTION]
[RANK UPDATE PENDING…]
Outside, the golden gate collapsed.
The world watched in horror and awe as one man walked out alive.
Alone.
Unharmed.
Ryden looked at the stunned cameras, the terrified elites, the hopeful poor.
"This," he said softly,
"was just the tutorial."
End of Chapter 1 — Part 6
Yo if you read all your totally crazy hahaha