UNIVERSE BIOTECHNOLOGY LIMITED.

  Sunlight streamed through the windows of the experimental building, reflecting off the gss in dazzling brilliance.

  Bardi, Raven, and Zatara had returned to Earth from Azarath. Upon arriving in Manhattan, Zatara had parted ways with them. Though he said nothing, the guilt in his eyes was evident. He gave Bardi a strange, bitter smile before leaving, leaving both Bardi and Raven feeling puzzled.

  After parting with Zatara, Bardi took Raven with him. They boarded a helicopter te at night, and after an hour-long flight from Manhattan to New Jersey, they returned to Noah Technology Park, home to Universe Biotechnology Ltd. in Metropolis. After ensuring Raven was settled, Bardi immediately turned his focus to his own condition.

  Inside the sterile testing facility, sublevel two.

  Under the bright glow of incandescent lights, the environment was starkly cold and sterile, the air carrying the fresh scent of disinfectant.

  Particles of chilled air drifted from the ventition system, making the atmosphere crisp and cool.

  Bardi y on the cold, metallic examination table. He had reverted to his original form, his face emotionless.

  He underwent every conceivable medical test avaible at this stage.

  Blood analysis, organ screening, electrocardiograms, brain wave monitoring, surgical evaluations, ENT examinations, bone density scans, X-rays, ultrasound resonance scans, and comprehensive tests on his heart, lungs, liver, spleen, and nervous system.

  His blood was analyzed at the deepest level, white blood cells, lymphocytes, granulocytes, red blood cells, ptelets, every possible factor was examined.

  Finally, he underwent a full genetic sequencing test.

  The entire process took nearly half a day.

  Once it was completed, Bardi pushed himself upright on the examination table. His pupils contracted slightly, and his brows furrowed.

  He could feel the weakness in his body.

  His internal organs ached with a dull pain. His skin prickled—a deep, piercing sensation, as if every cell in his body was being stabbed by countless needles.

  Ever since returning from Azarath, whenever he was exposed to sunlight, it no longer felt warm and invigorating. Instead, it felt like thousands of tiny needles piercing into his cells.

  Previously, Raven's blood had been used to repair the colpsing Kryptonian genes in his body. However, something was now terribly wrong.

  The moment his body absorbed sunlight, an intense rejection reaction occurred. The pain spread through him like an electric current, an internal war waged at the genetic level.

  This could only mean one thing—

  His genetic instability was worsening.

  His body was breaking down again.

  The sor energy he could absorb now was less than one-thousandth of what it had been before.

  Bardi clenched his fists, deep in thought.

  Despite his outward appearance, he knew the truth.

  His physical capabilities had diminished to barely two or three times that of an ordinary human.

  Inside, his organs were failing. His chest felt tight. His stomach churned with nausea. He fought against the urge to vomit, but the sensation lingered.

  His genes—

  A greater crisis was unfolding.

  The door opened.

  A woman entered, her high heels clicking against the pristine boratory floor.

  Hera.

  She had porcein-white skin, a tall, graceful figure, and wore a sleek bck business suit over a crisp white blouse. The tight fit emphasized her curves, pushing the edges of her bck suit jacket outward. Her long, toned legs were wrapped in bck stockings, and she wore a white b coat over it all, exuding the professional aura of a doctor.

  Hera was a biological specialist, created by the artificial intelligence Hera itself.

  She carried not just the appearance of a professional but the expertise of one as well.

  She stepped into the room, her heels producing sharp, rhythmic click-click-click sounds as she approached.

  "Snap!"

  She raised a slender, delicate hand and snapped her fingers.

  The movement caused her white coat and the blouse beneath it to shift, revealing the subtle, alluring curves of her form.

  Immediately, a holographic projection materialized behind her.

  Dispyed in the air was a genetic spiral chain, each genetic factor marked with a special red indicator.

  Bardi's gaze sharpened.

  Turning his attention away from his discomfort, he focused on the genetic diagram.

  "Master, your Kryptonian genes still have fatal fws."

  Hera's voice was calm, clinical, and melodious—like the chime of wind bells ringing in the quiet.

  "The genes in your body colpsed once before, and though they were painstakingly repaired, the deepest yers of genetic information remain fwed."

  "Your ability to absorb sor energy through photons has been severely diminished. The damage is extensive, which is why your cells now experience pain when exposed to sunlight."

  She extended her arms toward the floating projection, her expression calm and focused.

  A subtle glimpse of her porcein-white skin peeked from between the buttons of her blouse as she moved.

  As she spread her hands, the genetic spiral expanded before her.

  It was composed of countless microscopic strands, interwoven in an intricate, delicate pattern.

  Hera reached out and tapped a single red marker on the gene chain.

  Immediately, the section enrged.

  "Here."

  She pointed at the highlighted segment.

  "Master, the issue lies in the interaction between the photon absorption gene and the enhancer gene."

  "Under normal conditions, these two genetic components combine, allowing Kryptonian cells to absorb sor radiation and enhance physical attributes accordingly."

  "But in your case, there's a fundamental failure in this interaction."

  "The cis-acting element, which normally regutes genetic expressionhas weakened significantly. Your promoter factor can no longer effectively transcribe the absorbed sor energy into usable biological enhancements."

  "The upstream promoter element and trans-acting factor are malfunctioning, which has disrupted the transcription process."

  "This results in periodic stagnation."

  "Your genes are attempting to process the sor energy, but at irregur intervals, they experience a 'click'—a halt in function."

  "And when this happens, instead of reinforcing your body…"

  Hera's cold, analytical voice was unwavering.

  "You experience cellur pain due to energy rejection."

  "And if you absorb too much sor energy at once…"

  Her eyes locked onto Bardi's.

  "Your body will spontaneously combust."

  "Master, your genetic instability has reached its critical threshold."

  "You are already operating at the maximum capacity of your genetic potential."

  "The defects are expanding."

  "If nothing is done—in two to four months, your body will colpse completely."

  "And while the magical true body genes are still functioning separately, they are not strong enough to stabilize your Kryptonian genetic core."

  "Master…"

  "You must undergo genetic adjustments immediately."

  Hera, cd in her white coat, spoke in a cold, clear voice.

  As an extension of the Hera AI, she was programmed to provide the most optimized recommendations at all times.

  Bardi felt a chill settle in his heart.

  He hadn't expected his Kryptonian genes to have deteriorated to such an extent—so much so that they could no longer even serve as his primary combat strength.

  I can't afford to wait any longer. I need the Codex of Life.

  Originally, on the way back, he and Raven had pnned to set up a rge-scale field magic circle. However, given the severity of his genetic instability, most of the restrictive measures they had discussed would have to be abandoned and executed ahead of schedule.

  Fortunately, even while preparing for Trigon, he had never lost sight of his true objective—Jor-El.

  He had meticulously id out contingency pns, made various preparations, and ensured that every necessary arrangement was in pce. Now, with the unexpected addition of his magical transformation and Raven at his side, his chances of killing Jor-El had surged to nearly 90%.

  The tingling pain surging through his body only reinforced one thing—he needed the Codex of Life immediately.

  Bardi nodded and spoke in an icy tone.

  "I will retrieve the Codex of Life in three days. Starting now, recalcute the viability of the Kryptonian primary gene. Identify all areas that need adjustment and modification. Do not concern yourself with the magic body, focus entirely on the stability and strength of my Kryptonian genetics."

  He had no interest in the magical true body.

  As far as he was concerned, this form of magical enhancement was nothing more than a temporary crutch—a stopgap measure meant to support his deteriorating Kryptonian genes.

  At this stage, it was his most immediate source of power. With it, he could wield magic as a weapon against Jor-El's Kryptonian abilities.

  But he refused to see magic as his primary power.

  The magical body was just a stepping stone—a means to an end.

  His ultimate goal had never wavered.

  He had already id out the blueprint for his future evolution—one that revolved around the absolute strength of Kryptonian genetics.

  With a fully intact Codex of Life, his future would be limitless.

  No more weaknesses.

  He would gradually eradicate every Kryptonian vulnerability—Kryptonite, magic, red sunlight.

  Nothing would be able to harm him.

  He would ascend to a demon-level existence.

  And in the distant future, he could even pave the way for the ultimate transformation.

  To become the perfect Doomsday.

  A Doomsday with no restrictions.

  A Doomsday capable of infinite evolution.

  The true Doomsday.

  An entity capable of annihiting entire universes.

  A being that transcended all Kryptonian limitations.

  Magic, red sunlight, Kryptonite—none of it would matter anymore.

  Doomsday was a creature that could devour anything, develop instant immunities to any attack, and adapt to any environment.

  It was the ultimate lifeform.

  The most powerful monster in existence.

  After encountering Trigon, Bardi had become even more convinced.

  This so-called magical transformation was nothing but a joke.

  It was likely a byproduct of Trigon's interference—a means of restricting him, keeping his soul anchored to existence.

  Because Trigon absolutely did not want him to die.

  If even a trace of Trigon's influence remained within him…

  Bardi's expression darkened.

  Subconsciously, he pced his right hand over his left, his thumb rubbing against his palm. His face was cold, his thoughts deep, and his eyes flickered with a sharp, calcuting glint.

  (To be continued.)

  ***

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