Kang Seung-woo sat quietly by the window of a bio-energy-powered bus.
His eyes followed the slow-moving world outside. The hum of the bio-magnetic engine thrummed softly beneath the seats. The torn leather and the scent of energy glue mixed with damp air leaking through a loose window. Fingerprints from past passengers still lingered on the foggy glass.
Outside, cracked concrete roads stretched toward the edge of the district. Streetlamps flickered or leaned, barely standing. Faded ads from a decade ago still clung to ruined boards, promising "A World Without Mutation" — a dream long obsolete.
As the bus passed an old slum, rooftops patched with shattered solar tiles came into view. Makeshift radio antennas sprouted from balconies. Children played on collapsed bridges and stared at the bus with wide, curious eyes.
Next to Seung-woo, Hyun-joo munched loudly, completely unbothered.
His snack bag was crumpled beyond recognition, but he ate like it was his secret weapon for the big day.
"Tell me honestly... are you scared?" Hyun-joo asked, looking out the opposite window. "To get tested in front of the whole district... I'm terrified."
Seung-woo didn't answer right away. The bus wheels scraped against the broken road, echoing like an uncertain heartbeat.
He smiled faintly. "It doesn't matter where we start... what matters is where we're going."
As the bus approached the testing facility, a massive dome slowly emerged through the chemical fog.
The structure shimmered with silver, coated in reflective bio-panels lined with living circuit patterns, like the veins of some giant creature. It gleamed in the morning light — a cathedral in a godless world.
The lot overflowed with transport craft and bio-energy vehicles from every school. Some bore elite training academy emblems. Others carried crests of noble families.
The hiss of giant air purifiers filled the air — like the tired sigh of the world itself.
Seung-woo stepped out with Hyun-joo.
The ground felt too smooth, the bio-reactive flooring beneath their feet pulling gently downward, adjusting gravity.
He inhaled — filtered air cleaner than anything he'd ever breathed. Yet it felt like he was inhaling pressure.
Students from twelve schools entered the central hall.
The dome's ceiling rose nearly ten stories. Circular walls pulsed with swirling energy. The transparent floor revealed green-gold bio-streams flowing beneath, like glowing rivers under glass.
An AI voice echoed throughout, woven with subtle psionic tones:
"Welcome to the Bio-Energy Evaluation. Please proceed by school group. Unauthorized augmentation or GEU manipulation is prohibited."
Hyun-joo spun in place, wide-eyed.
"Dude... this place is insane."
"Is this a scanner... or a soul-sucker?"
Seung-woo allowed a smile.
He wasn't awed by the grandeur. He understood that the silence in this place was the silence of high-stakes competition.
Every step was watched.
Every breath compared.
Inside the glowing dome, no voices were raised, yet the eyes of hundreds spoke louder than any speaker.
Some wore simple gray uniforms. Others bore family sigils stitched in nano-thread on their chests.
Some had AI-powered GEU glasses. Others wore custom wrist rigs that recorded every detail of their training.
Their expressions said one thing:
"We're not the same as you."
Whispers spread:
"See him? That's Son's kid. Transferred from District 3 in middle school. GEU's at 603."
"Commander level already. Damn."
They weren't speaking to Seung-woo or Hyun-joo.
But the words wrapped around them — a cage of strangers' judgments.
Hyun-joo grinned nervously. "Kinda makes me wanna go home..."
He tugged his collar, joking as always, but his eyes didn't smile.
Seung-woo said nothing.
His training suit had been mended by his mother. The fabric frayed at the sleeves. His shoes had been glued together three times.
But he wasn't ashamed.
Every stitch spoke of effort.
He wasn't gifted.
He had no bloodline.
No private tutor.
But he was here — because he chose not to disappear.
The cold stares, the crushing silence, the feeling of being "othered" didn't break him. It sharpened his resolve.
Blue light poured down from the dome's core. A bio-scan platform emerged — a semi-circular structure gleaming with energy.
The scanning floor, made of translucent material, responded directly to GEU signals.
As examinees stepped on it, the platform read in real-time and projected results above.
One by one, names were called.
Every step onto the platform was a step into judgment.
The AI voice read aloud:
"Yujin, Central School."
A tall girl with dark hair stepped up. Confident. Measured.
The scan light rose from her feet to her head.
Numbers appeared:
"GEU: 591 — Combat-Class, Upper Tier."
Gasps. Whispers. Stares.
Yujin descended in silence, face unreadable.
"Sowon, Engineering Institute."
A white-haired boy with sharp eyes ascended. He closed his eyes and seemed to mentally sync with the scanner.
"GEU: 645 — Elite-Class, Initial Tier."
A wave of exclamations followed. Some recorded his name.
"He can control five drones at once. Only three people last year could do that."
"Tae-jun, School 10-E."
A quiet boy stepped up. Mud-streaked shoes. Jaw clenched.
"GEU: 318 — Combat-Class, Entry Level."
No cheers. No praise. But a few respectful nods.
Some knew: power doesn't always mean worth.
He stepped down, steady and unshaken.
Then came their turn.
Whispers.
"Now for the countryside kids."
"Bet the scanner breaks trying to read them."
"Or maybe we'll see another lucky glitch! Haha!"
Seung-woo heard them.
He didn't look back.
"Hyun-joo, Bio-Gene School 10-B."
He stepped up amid scattered chuckles.
"GEU: 129 — Neo-Class, Low Tier."
"Special Mutation detected: Partial Morphing — Pending Review."
Whispers stopped.
"129... and he's here?"
"Did he luck his way through?"
Hyun-joo walked down stone-faced.
"I call it the art of powerless style," he said.
"Kang Seung-woo, Bio-Gene School 10-B."
He took a breath.
And stepped into the light.
Dozens of eyes.
Some mocking.
Some blank.
A few curious.
The scanner activated.
Numbers flashed:
180 214 298 370 437
Then, the screen blinked.
A new line appeared:
"GEU: 437 — Combat-Class, Mid Tier."
"Biometric anomaly detected — Under review."
Silence.
Whispers.
"437 but no special powers? Just muscle."
"Bet someone rigged the machine."
Seung-woo said nothing as he stepped down.
No elite bloodline.
No special gear.
No mentor.
But he had something unseen:
Unshakable resolve.
"That's candidate 10-7-048, right?"
"Power spike hit 800, dropped to 210 in a blink... but system capped it at 437?"
"Log it. Monitor quietly. Don't let him know."
That night
Seung-woo stood on the student balcony, gazing at the artificial stars.
"Tired?" Hyun-joo asked, offering a snack.
"A little. But I'm okay."
"Your GEU's way higher than mine. Why the stone face?"
Seung-woo smiled faintly.
"Because it's not enough. Not yet."
They sat beneath the synthetic light.
Watching a future that may never be equal.
But Seung-woo knew:
His path would be carved by his own hands.