Chapter 1: The Beginning of All Things

The market smelled like a mix of fresh produce, sizzling street food, and the unmistakable metallic tang of monster blood. It wasn't off-putting—at least not anymore. People had adjusted. Ten years of living with monsters crawling out of gates had a way of normalizing things.

Rob Malque weaved through the crowd, hands in his jacket pockets, scanning the stalls lined with monster meat, mana-infused ingredients, and weapons forged from slain creatures. It still felt surreal sometimes, how much the world had changed. Once, markets had been filled with fresh fish, pork, and vegetables. Now? A half-kilo of wyvern flank cost as much as a month's rent used to.

He stopped at a stall where a massive black cow's head, complete with menacingly long horns, sat on display. The butcher, a burly man in a bloodstained apron, glanced up from behind the counter. "What's yours?"

Rob pulled out his wallet. "Half a kilo."

The seller didn't bother responding—just grabbed a slab of meat, sliced it cleanly, and dropped it onto the scale. "Two-fifty."

Rob handed over the cash and took the plastic-wrapped package. Simple transaction, but still strange. Not too long ago, he'd be buying chicken breast instead of…whatever monster this used to be.

"First time buying Nightbull?" the butcher asked, wiping his hands on his apron.

Rob hesitated, then shrugged. "Yeah. Heard it's good."

"Damn good. Just don't overcook it. That mana-rich meat gets tough if you leave it on the heat too long."

"I'll keep that in mind."

The butcher gave a nod, already turning to his next customer. Rob moved on, weaving through the crowd. He passed a vendor selling mana-infused spices, another with glowing blue herbs that pulsed softly in their jars. The market was alive with chatter, bartering, and the occasional heated debate over which monster meat had the best flavor.

It wasn't just the food that had changed. The whole world had. Ten years ago, when the first gates opened, monsters poured out, bringing devastation. Cities burned. Governments collapsed. Then, people started awakening.

The first hunters had been unprepared. Normal people, suddenly granted abilities—superhuman strength, elemental magic, skills that defied logic. Some were lucky enough to start with powerful abilities right off the bat. Most…weren't.

Now, things were different. Gates were part of life. So were hunters.

Rob wasn't one of them.

He exhaled, shaking his head. It was enough that his brother had awakened. That alone had been a lottery win. Their family had clawed its way out of poverty because of it. No need to test fate any further.

A loud voice cut through the market's steady hum. "Oi! Rob, that you?"

Rob turned to see a familiar face pushing through the crowd. A stocky man in combat gear, a massive sword slung across his back, grinned at him. Caleb, an old friend—one of the few who'd awakened early.

"Didn't think I'd see you here," Caleb said, slapping Rob on the shoulder. "Thought you had a thing against monster meat."

Rob smirked. "Times change. My wallet doesn't stretch as far as it used to."

Caleb laughed. "Ain't that the truth? Market's a rip-off these days. You should let me bring you some from my runs—fresh off the kill."

Rob raised an eyebrow. "And let you poison me with some half-cooked, mana-loaded steak? No thanks."

"Rude," Caleb said, holding a hand over his heart. "I'm an excellent cook."

"You burn toast."

Caleb scoffed. "That happened one time."

The banter was easy, familiar. It reminded Rob of the days before all this—before the world changed, before Caleb had awakened and started running into gates, hunting monsters for a living. They used to just be two guys trying to scrape by. Now? Caleb was a hunter. Rob was…not.

"You heading home?" Caleb asked after a moment.

"Yeah," Rob said, adjusting the package under his arm. "Gotta cook this before it goes bad."

"Let's grab a drink sometime," Caleb said. "It's been a while."

"Sure," Rob said. "As long as you're paying."

Caleb laughed again, shaking his head. "You haven't changed a bit, man."

Rob watched as Caleb disappeared back into the crowd, likely heading toward a gate raid or some other hunter business. He turned away, starting his walk home.

There were worse things than being normal in a world of superhumans.

But as he passed by a group of hunters in sleek combat gear, laughing as they checked their floating interfaces, he couldn't quite shake the feeling that he was missing out.

Rob arrived at an apartment complex. As he climbed the stairs, his steps slowed. The memories hit like a punch to the gut. The night his home had been attacked. The monstrous roars. His father's frantic voice telling them to run. The acrid scent of smoke as the neighborhood burned. His brother Jay grabbing his wrist, practically dragging him away while their father stood his ground, weapon in hand.

Five years had passed, but it felt like yesterday.

He reached their floor and exhaled sharply before pushing open the door. The moment he stepped inside, a familiar sight greeted him—an absolute mess. Gear, dirty clothes, and a mountain of empty energy drink cans. Jay's version of 'organized chaos.' Rob scowled. "This bastard still doesn't know how to clean."

Rolling up his sleeves, he got to work. It didn't take long, but by the time he was done, at least the apartment resembled something livable.

His stomach growled, so he headed to the kitchen. He grabbed a cutting board and started chopping onions, the sharp scent making his eyes sting. Next came the garlic, then a handful of herbs he'd picked up at the market. Finally, the Nightbull meat. It was thick, its fibers almost too dense, but he worked through it, slicing it into chunks. As he dropped oil into the pan, the scent of sizzling onions and garlic quickly filled the apartment. When the meat hit the heat, it seared instantly, releasing a deep, smoky aroma.

Satisfied, he plated the food and covered it. "I'll eat when that bastard comes."

He pulled out his phone and shot Jay a text. [Pick up a soda on your way back.]

With that done, he collapsed onto the couch, flipping open his laptop. He absentmindedly scrolled through Hunter videos—raid highlights, tutorials on mana control, reckless solo runs. Even if he wasn't a Hunter, he still kept up. Old habits.

Then, without warning, his screen flickered. A holographic panel materialized in front of him.

[Congratulations! You have awakened S-Rank: Genesis Breaker class.]

Rob's breath hitched. His mind blanked.

"…What?"

He sat up fast enough to nearly drop his laptop. His eyes scanned the glowing text. A joke? No. The system interface was unmistakable. The kind only Hunters could see.

The panel shifted, revealing more details.

[Genesis Breaker: This class walks the razor's edge between building and breaking. Its power allows for the creation of wonders and the destruction of anything in its path. Failure to maintain perfect balance will result in the user's mind and body being consumed by chaotic energy.]

His throat felt dry as he read on.

Active skills: Creation—crafting temporary items out of thin air. Destruction—unleashing bursts of destructive energy. Duality (Passive)—The inherent duality of your class manifests as a fluctuating power source, influenced by your actions. The balance between creation and destruction dictates your stat bonuses and penalties. A visible gauge will indicate your current alignment.

But the real kicker? The Balance Gauge.

[Balance Gauge:]A gauge displays the current balance between creation and destruction. Central neutral zone, 'light' (creation) zone, 'dark' (destruction) zone. Red line at the extremes of both zones.

- Creation Alignment (Light Zone):

Using creation skills shifts the gauge toward light.

Bonuses: MAG (Magic): More magical power, faster mana regen. VIT (Vitality): More health, better defense.

The further it goes, the bigger the boost.-

Destruction Alignment (Dark Zone):

Using destruction skills shifts the gauge toward dark.

Bonuses: STR (Strength): More physical power. AGI (Agility): Faster speed, reflexes. ATK (Attack): Stronger hits.

Same deal—further it goes, bigger the payoff.- Penalty Zone (Beyond Red Line):

Too far either way triggers penalties: Nausea: Can't focus, slow reactions. Dizziness: Misses shots, clumsy moves. Stomach Ache: Stamina and mana tank.- Neutral Zone:

Stay in the middle, no bonuses, no penalties. Flat zero.

He scanned the mechanics—creation pushed the gauge toward 'light,' boosting magic and vitality. Destruction tilted it toward 'dark,' increasing strength and agility. But going too far in either direction? That led to penalties.

A tight knot formed in his gut.

His stats flickered onto the screen.

[Name: Robert Malque]

[Age: 21]

[Class: Genesis Breaker]

[Skills: Creation, Destruction, Duality]

[STR: 8 | AGI: 7 | PER: 5 | VIT: 7 | MAG: 12]

Rob ran a hand through his hair. He didn't know whether to laugh, scream, or throw up.

"…What the hell did I just get myself into?"