Dimensional Overseer: I Can Manipulate DNA!

Ever since Zane had first laid eyes on the peculiar boy, he couldn't quite figure him out. There was something almost alien about Ivan—mainly that infuriating, permanent grin glued to his face. It wasn't just mischievous or friendly. No, it looked stuck, like his facial muscles didn't know any other expression. As if even when the world burned around him, he'd smile the same way.

And the more Zane was irritated, the wider the smile seemed to stretch. He felt like Ivan was just mocking him and it only further angered him.

Then, for the first time since their chaotic "reunion," Ivan blinked slowly and fell into uncharacteristic silence. Elizabeth looked between the two boys, her expression tense with concern, unsure if a fight might erupt at any moment.

Ivan suddenly pointed a finger toward Zane's cheek. "Can I just say… you have a bread crumb right there."

"…"

"…"

Zane froze mid-glare. His mind seemed to short-circuit as his hand moved on its own to wipe the crumb away. He slowly sat back down, face unreadable. The awkward silence returned comically fast and nobody knew what to say for a good minute.

'Maybe death is a better outcome after all…' he thought bitterly, closing his eyes. 'This guy is the worst thing I've encountered in years. Easily.'

"Hahaha! You're really funny, Zane. I like you already," Ivan said cheerfully, slapping Zane's shoulder like they were old friends. "So, where are you both from? Your world must be nearby, yeah?"

"L-Lower Earth…" Elizabeth answered shyly.

Ivan blinked. "Wait, what? Lower Earth? The same Lower Earth people have been talking about recently?"

"I think so…?" Elizabeth tilted her head slightly, unsure why he sounded so surprised.

"Wow. Just, wow…" Ivan muttered, genuinely impressed. "You guys are kinda famous, you know that? Everyone's talking about how your world produced an S-Rank talent for the first time ever. That's huge. A generational talent from a world no one expected anything from? That's insane!"

"Thank you…?" Elizabeth mumbled, clearly overwhelmed.

Zane, however, leaned in slightly, his gaze sharpening. "What exactly did you hear about us?"

Ivan tapped his chin. "Hmm… Well, where I'm from, they're already investigating how you did it. Trying to figure out what made this happen. Everyone's curious. Honestly, a bit jealous, too."

'Looking into how we did it?' Zane's brow furrowed. Something about that phrasing didn't sit right. "What do you mean by that? There's a method to producing S-Rank talents now?"

Ivan shrugged. "No idea. All I heard was that they're researching ways to increase the chances of producing higher-ranking talents. Who knows? Maybe there's a pattern to it."

Zane leaned back, eyes narrowing. 'That's not how the selection works. The dimensional system decides who's accepted… It's supposed to be random. Or at least, not something you can manipulate.' He didn't like where this line of thought was going. But, then again, he realized he was talking to this weird kid so he had to take everything with a pinch of salt. He could be lying as far as he was concerned.

"What about you?" Elizabeth asked, her voice gentler now. "What world are you from?"

"Oh? I'm from a lower world too—Lower Nightstar," Ivan replied. "It's not too far from here."

"Lower Nightstar? Never heard of it," Zane muttered.

"Not many have," Ivan chuckled. "It's a small place. We have eternal night—no sun, ever. So warmth and daylight are foreign concepts for us. Honestly, I love it here. The sunlight, the colors… everything feels so alive."

"Eternal night? That sounds amazing," Elizabeth said, eyes gleaming. "I love the night. I'd love to visit someday!"

"You would? Great! You're welcome anytime—I'll be your guide!"

"Umm, maybe… Would you go too, Zane?" Elizabeth turned to her friend, hopeful.

"No." His answer was blunt and immediate.

Elizabeth's smile faltered.

'Visiting other worlds for fun? This isn't a vacation. We're here to train, to grow, to survive. There's no time for sightseeing.' Zane's mind spun relentlessly. 'Every second must be used to get stronger. The faster I climb, the sooner I'll uncover the truth. The truth about my mother's killer.'

He couldn't afford distractions—not now, not ever. His one and only goal is to get as strong as possible as fast as possible. He didn't want to enjoy his time or 'take a break'. Others might want to take it easy, but he was there to take it to the extreme. Even if it meant that he must sacrifice his own well being in the process. As long as he gets the desired result, everything else is secondary.

Just then, the cafeteria doors swung open, drawing everyone's attention in an instant. A heavy silence fell over the crowd before it was replaced by hushed whispers and awe-struck gasps.

Lune had entered.

She moved with quiet confidence, her posture regal and her presence magnetic. Her silver hair shimmered under the artificial lights as she glided past tables without so much as glancing at anyone.

"S-So beautiful…"

"That's the S-Rank? She looks like a goddess…"

"She's from Lower Earth? No way…"

Zane watched the reactions unfold, mildly amused by how easily people crumbled under awe.

Ivan leaned forward, whispering, "Is that her?"

"Mhm. That's Miss Lune," Elizabeth replied.

"Wow… She's even more distant up close," Ivan murmured. "Is she really from your world? She doesn't carry herself like someone born in a weak realm."

"What do you mean by that?" Zane asked.

"I dunno. Just… her aura, the way she moves. It's like she belongs somewhere bigger, you know?" Ivan replied.

Zane didn't want to admit it, but he agreed. 'As much as I hate to admit it, he has a point. She walks like someone who doesn't know what failure means and that's probably true. She doesn't just stand out—she stands above.'

Her aura didn't scream for attention. It demanded it.

And yet, somehow, she was one of them. Born in the same decaying world as he was.

With a quiet sigh, Zane returned to his meal, finishing it in thoughtful silence. When he was done, he picked up his tray and handed it back before making his way toward the exit.

Elizabeth remained behind, still halfway through her food.

"What's my next class, Dia?" Zane asked as he stepped outside.

"Combat Class."

"Oh? We're having that on the first day?" he muttered. "They're not wasting any time."

"Lead me there."

"Understood."

Following Dia's directions, Zane crossed the facility grounds to the far side, where a massive structure loomed into view. It resembled a colossal metal dome—its curved surface glinting under the sun like a monument to power.

Inside, the gymnasium was vast. Wide-open spaces with tiled wooden floors and reinforced barriers stretched in every direction. He saw areas designated for shooting practice, boxing, mixed martial arts, swordplay, weightlifting, even swimming. Everything was state-of-the-art. This wasn't just a training hall—it was a battlefield simulator.

'They have quite literally thought of everything. There are things I didn't even see before in my life.' The boy thought to himself.

Zane made his way toward the section where his class was assigned, taking a seat near the sparring arena.

'Three days of training and I've already made progress. My sword technique is improving steadily… I can perform Flash Step three times in a row now. Still rough, but the rhythm's coming together.'

He hadn't let himself rest since starting. Every spare moment was spent in training. And now, it was starting to pay off.

Eventually, the rest of the class filtered in, and with them came their new instructor—a tall, broad-shouldered man with a clean-shaven head and a permanent scowl. Strapped across his back was a sword so massive it looked like it belonged in the hands of a giant. The blade was easily twice his height and as thick as his torso.

His mere presence silenced the room.

"I am your new Combat Trainer," the man said in a voice like gravel grinding against steel. "You will address me as Mr. Judge."

His gaze swept across the students.

"One thing you must know about me—I do not tolerate laziness. This class is the most important one you'll take. Your knowledge may help you survive longer, but it's your strength that determines whether you survive at all. I will not waste time with those who aren't serious. Understood?"

"Yes, sir!" the class chorused.

"Good. Today, we'll begin with a basic assessment. You'll undergo three tests—close-range versus long-range preference, reflex analysis, and adaptability evaluation. Once we're done, you'll be assigned weapons that suit your natural traits and combat instincts. A huge part of your success as a Knight relies on the right choices that fit your style of fighting. If you try to be arrogant and choose something that doesn't fit you then you will only face one singular outcome... Death." Judge said, his eyes threatening them with a cold glare.

Zane raised an eyebrow slightly. 'Weapon reassignment, huh? Makes sense. Not everyone is born to wield a sword. If they can tailor weapons to the person, we might all improve faster.'