Evan’s evolution had gone flawlessly.
His foundation was absurdly solid—every step felt natural, inevitable.
He sat up.
The bedsheet beneath him was soaked, imprinted with a human?shaped stain of thick, foul?smelling fluid—waste tissue, impurities, and discarded cells expelled during evolution.
His skin and bathrobe were also smeared with the sticky residue.
He stood, throat parched, grabbed the teapot on the table, and drank the entire thing in one go.
Only then did the dryness ease.
He stepped into the private hot pool and washed away the filth.
Warm water enveloped him, and clarity returned to his mind.
His state had never been better.
Body and spirit—both had broken past human limits.
He was no longer a mortal-tier lifeform.
He was something higher.
Before evolution, even after absorbing four extracts, his raw physical stats—without skills—were still within the realm of elite humans.
Now?
His entire being had transformed.
Strength, speed, endurance—everything had doubled.
He felt like he could punch through steel or leap to the ceiling with a single kick.
Which is harder, my skull or the ceiling?
He wasn’t stupid enough to test it.
He dressed and left the bathhouse, flagging down a taxi.
“To the Black & White Lounge.”
The Black & White Lounge
It wasn’t the most crowded bar in Blackrock City, but it was the most mysterious—and the most profitable.
As its name suggested, the lounge was divided into two sections:
White Lounge — open to the public
Black Lounge — restricted to members only
And membership required one thing:
You must have undergone at least one evolution.
Only Chrysalis?tier and above may enter.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
Two days earlier, Evan had learned about this place from the LifePharm store manager.
But he hadn’t evolved yet, so he couldn’t enter the Black Lounge.
Now he could.
Inside the White Lounge, music blasted from the speakers.
Dancers in revealing outfits swayed on stage.
Lights flashed across flushed faces.
Shouts, laughter, clinking glasses, and drunken screams filled the air.
Evan frowned.
He disliked noisy environments.
But his face—too handsome, too youthful—was a magnet for intoxicated butterflies.
On his short walk to the bar counter, he lost count of how many women approached him.
Some wanted his contact info.
Some offered him drinks.
One even tried to fall into his arms.
He politely pushed away a heavily perfumed older woman and said to the bartender:
“I’d like to apply for a Black Lounge membership card.”
The bartender straightened.
“Please display your evolution force.”
Evan raised a hand.
A faint crimson glow flickered at his fingertips.
“Please wait a moment.”
The bartender asked for his phone number, tapped a few keys, and handed him a sleek black card with the lounge’s logo.
Evan took it and walked toward a dark iron door at the back.
The White Lounge was behind him.
The Black Lounge lay beyond that door.
A muscular guard stood watch.
He took Evan’s card, surprise flashing in his eyes at the boy’s age, then asked for verification.
Evan displayed the crimson glow again.
Only then did the guard open the door.
The Black Lounge
The moment the iron door shut behind him, the noise vanished.
It felt like stepping into another world.
The Black Lounge looked like something straight out of an old American prohibition?era film—
warm red?brown tones, brick walls, wooden tables, a polished bar counter, and soft classical piano music drifting through the air.
More like a vintage restaurant than a bar.
Only about twenty people were inside.
All turned to look at him.
Surprise flickered across their faces.
A newcomer.
And so young.
In Blackrock City, Chrysalis?tier evolutionists were rarely under twenty.
Most here were in their mid?twenties or older.
Evan, at seventeen, stood out immediately.
He nodded politely and walked to the bar.
The mustached bartender asked, “What can I get you?”
“Orange juice.”
“No alcohol?”
The bartender sounded almost offended—he clearly prided himself on his craft.
“I’m underage,” Evan replied with a wholesome smile.
The bartender had no comeback.
He poured the juice.
Evan sat at the bar, sipping quietly while watching the large screen mounted behind it.
Information scrolled across the display:
[Seeking a Chrysalis?tier healer for a hunting expedition in the eastern Blackrock Mountains. Team of five, experienced, well?equipped, high safety.]
[Selling a first?tier defensive artifact. Price: 5 million. Inquire at the bar.]
[Buying Scorpionstone tail needles. Need 10.]
The Black Lounge served as a private hub for evolutionists—
a place to exchange intel, trade items, form teams, and post missions.
Blackrock City’s evolutionists met here to negotiate deals, sell loot, or pick up side jobs.
The lounge took a cut of every transaction and charged fees for posting missions.
Evolutionists earned good money, but their expenses were enormous—
daily supplements, extracts, equipment, training, and for some, raising children.
A salary alone wasn’t enough.
So places like the Black Lounge were essential.
Evan’s purpose here was simple:
Find a suitable team.
The Blackrock Mountains were deadly.
He needed a strong group to cross safely and reach the Rovan Federation.
Evan has stepped into the world of evolutionists — a world of deals, danger, and opportunity.
But the Black Lounge isn’t just a bar.
It’s a hunting ground.
If you were Evan, what kind of team would you look for?
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