Genetic Ascension

Chapter 1214  Adaptation.

Sylasʼ eyes flashed open. He hadnʼt made the sort of progress he wanted to. Maybe it was because of his own Pride, but he didnʼt think it would be that hard once he got the idea.

In practice, though? It was a complete nightmare.

The problem with autophagy was that it would only target what your body deemed useless or a waste. Logically, if that was going to happen naturally, it would already have done so.

Sylas was a D-Grade, so anything that was inferior should be something his body targeted to get rid of.

But if it was that easy, then everyone who elevated themselves to a new level would experience a true rebirth of sorts. While this did happen on a somewhat smaller scale, it wasnʼt the complete overhaul that Sylas was looking for.

He was trying to use \[Madness Control] to force the issue a bit, but the level of understanding that would take was something he wasnʼt prepped for at all.

It would definitely take the UniForge for him to have the mental capacity to keep such a focused \[Madness Control] active. After all, he would be controlling his body down to a cellular level.

But there was an obvious issue with that.

His Scorned Wraps would destroy Andromeda if he tried to use it like that. It would register like he was using a Treasure to boost his power, and that would be a big no-no.

There were some blurry lines around that. Like when he used time dilation to help him accelerate his pace to D-Grade, that hadnʼt registered as a problem. It wasnʼt the first time he had used a method like that either.

However, something so direct would never work.

That meant he had to force \[Madness Control] to a much higher level all on his own… at least in part.

If it was just \[Madness Control] alone he had, Sylas would have already accepted the fact it was impossible. But it was the combination of \[Madness Control] and Demon meat that would make all the difference.

There was something about ingesting Demon meat that forced the body into a hyper state of evolution. It rejected everything that was Demon, so it was doing its best to improve.

If one took a step back and thought about what would help one live the longest, there was one path that seemed more obvious than the others.

If you asked a layman how to get someone to live the longest, they might suggest placing them in a sterile, airtight room, that was also perfectly cushioned. Then theyʼd make sure the person never experienced any hardship in their life.

However, the biology of it was the exact opposite.

To live longer, one shouldnʼt lock themselves up and avoid danger. In fact, pushing the body, forcing it to adapt, to fight, was a key part of living longer.

Sylas could recall reading an article that the body actually lived much longer when it was slightly uncomfortable. Being a little too cold, a little too hot, constantly pushing it to pull out more of its potential.

Of course, recovery and health were also important, proper nutrients and sustenance, but the body was an engine built on survival. Evolution itself was nothing more than a series of continuous adaptations, small or otherwise, taking place over millions upon millions of years.

If you adapted wrong, you would die. If you adapted correctly, you would live and pass on your adaptation to your offspring, allowing them to benefit from your success as well.

The vaccines Sylas had worked on in his professional career were much the same. Vaccines were nothing more than small doses or non-lethal doses of diseases—or in his case, venom—that allowed the body to form antibodies of its own.

That was what was so amazing about the body.

Adaptation.

Something like vaccines only helped to facilitate that, just like Demon meat seemed to as well.

The question was… how could he bridge all of that, forcing his body to get rid of its useless bits and pieces all on its own?

Sylas had spent days on this problem, feeling like he was close, and yet still so very far away. It was like he couldnʼt leap over a hurdle—but the hurdle itself wasnʼt something he could fully understand.

In the end, he had no choice but to place down his angst and desire to succeed.

The odds that he could have figured out something like this in a single sitting were next to impossible. So, when he heard that the Young Miss was back, he chose that this was the perfect time to leave these thoughts behind for now and come back later with a fresher pair of eyes.

As he stood to leave, he didnʼt notice the gaze of the little girl on him, shaking her head.

ʼDid he run into such a roadblock already? I wonder if heʼs going to end up the same…ʼ

There was something about watching Sylas solve one problem after another that had left her feeling like his mind worked in ways that made little sense.

However, it was short-lived. Whether it was Dominus Paragon, the Contested Title, or the True Pride Seed, both seemed to lead to the same downfall.

The Leava Clan Dominus had found himself in a mad loop, trying to solve one problem continuously, and yet being unable to do so.

Now, Sylas seemed to have run into his own roadblock—and so soon at that.

It always happened.

Right now, Sylas probably thought that heʼd figure it out eventually…

But that was what they always thought.

Every single one of them.

…

Sylas entered a hall with slow, deliberate steps. He hadnʼt been called, nor summoned—he simply chose to appear all on his own.

It was the epitome of rudeness.

But the instant he saw the woman across the room from him, he felt a fire in him flare up to a wild degree. It was almost overwhelming.

ʼSo thatʼs what I was missing…ʼ

Sylas figured it out, but the frown on his face became heavy.