Xu Zhi had no choice.
Sixty years had passed within the grand sandbox. No hero had emerged to save the world, and the last of the orthodox witches were on the verge of extinction. He could no longer afford to wait.
Besides, "Future Skywhale" was exactly the kind of person Xu Zhi had been looking for. Calm, logical, and obsessed with research—he embodied the ideal image of an orthodox wizard in Xu Zhi's eyes.
As for that other fool... well, despite his frightening talent, Xu Zhi didn't even want to think about him. He was simply too chaotic.
Xu Zhi muttered to himself, "The era of the Three Witches was just the beginning. The next age should be an era of Alchemy. Only then can this be called a true magical civilization. Give me knowledge, and I can move the world! Real mages should be seekers of truth, passionate about alchemy and discovery. If all you do is cast spells, how are you any different from a hedge wizard?"
This global crisis was the perfect excuse to open the interdimensional passage—and invite a traveler from another world.
Xu Zhi smiled faintly. Who would have thought the hero of the third era would be a transmigrator?
What kind of storm would a genius scientist from the twenty-first century unleash in this magical orchard world? What strange, alchemical lifeforms would he craft? Or would he simply die moments after entering the sandbox?
Meanwhile, in a private villa...
Future Skywhale remained blissfully unaware that a certain sly and conniving Creator was plotting behind his back.
He dismissed the maid who had just brought him dinner, reclined in his chair, and slipped on his VR headset. The world went dark.
"Please evolve your eyes."
He had chosen to commit suicide in-game and start fresh—as a single-celled organism.
A renowned leader in science and technology, Future Skywhale had already climbed to the peak of worldly success. He had wealth, prestige, and influence—but life had grown unbearably dull. Naturally, a man of his stature had his own ways to seek entertainment.
In public, he was a dignified, middle-aged CEO admired by millions. In private? He was a full-blown gaming addict—an absolute whale in every sense of the word.
He didn't care about appearances online. He often joked and messed around like any ordinary player; no one knew who he really was behind the screen.
Over the years, most games had lost their appeal. But this one—this strange, impossibly advanced simulation—had stunned him. A game so complex, so real, that it mirrored actual physics and biology.
He had consulted top-tier experts from across scientific fields, and their collective consensus had only deepened his awe. This wasn't just a game. It was a living world. A second reality.
Soon, he had assembled a team of world-class scientists to help him simulate evolution in real time.
Before long, he held a dozen-page blueprint in his hands:
"Conjectures on Biological Engines and an Evolutionary Roadmap."
"I'm going to evolve into an engine and earn that achievement," he murmured. "This should be fun."
And so began a ten-hour marathon of species development.
Eventually, a green Slime appeared.
Round and limbless, it had only a mouth, a pair of shiny eyes, and a thick ahoge-like tentacle sprouting from its head. Despite its simplicity, the tentacle rippled with muscular power.
It looked like the classic starter Slime from old-school RPGs—adorable and oddly charming. The sort of thing girls would love as a pet.
It was, in fact, the ideal form—both functional and aesthetically pleasing—painstakingly designed by professionals in the field.
As a gamer, Future Skywhale had always been obsessed with skins and customization. Appearances mattered.
"Bro, I'm finally done. Can you give me a ride back?" he asked Akinas Speedster, unable to move around by himself.
Akinas burst out laughing. "What a cute little creature! You look just like a Slime from a classic starter zone. I'm gonna call you 'Starting Chicken.'"
This idiot.
Starting Chicken? Pallbearer Chicken? How obsessed are you with naming things poorly?
Future Skywhale ignored the jab and sighed. "I'm not nearly as amazing as you. You made the Pallbearer Chicken solo. I had to hire a dozen researchers just to figure this out."
Each person had their strengths.
Akinas Speedster was a natural genius in evolutionary biology. Even the scientists on Future Skywhale's payroll had tried to poach him for academic research—only to be rejected. The man was hopelessly addicted to this game.
Future Skywhale, meanwhile, was a master of mechanics, chips, and machine design. His empire was built on real-world engineering—not evolution theory.
"Bossman, want me to put you in the wooden car you built?" Akinas offered.
"Do it."
A crowd of curious players gathered to watch.
"Whoa, is that the next evolution to earn an achievement?" "It's so cute! The last one was tasty. This one's adorable!" "They've all got their own vibe!"
The Slime was carefully placed inside a wooden vehicle. Where the engine would normally sit, a crude turbine was installed—one designed specifically for tentacle operation.
Whrirrrrr!!
The tentacle began spinning the turbine.
This creature was like a living engine—its sole purpose to consume and spin. A masterpiece of bioengineering.
Boom!
The wooden car lurched forward.
Akinas Speedster gripped the steering wheel with glee. "Bossman, you're incredible! Spin faster! I'm gonna show off my drifting skills—watch my 360!"
The Slime spun faster. The car picked up speed.
"Second gear!"
Future Skywhale complied, spinning even harder.
"Third gear!"
The car accelerated again. Akinas executed a flawless drift, and the crowd went wild. The forums exploded with posts.
Haruko Loves to Learn: "This thing is voice-controlled?? It's better than modern cars! You're ahead of your time!"
Hands Off: "Gasoline? Who needs it? This thing runs on meat and veggies. Eco-friendly bio-car supremacy!"
Cerebral Bluff: "Bossman's lost sight of his dream. Weren't you evolving into a Skywhale?! Now you're building cars!"
Cute Girl Who Wants to Evolve into a Dragon: "Are you kidding me?! That muscular tentacle arm is sexier than any man alive!"
The hype was real.
This wasn't just a game anymore. It was a creative playground, a glimpse into the future of biotechnology.
Then came the notification:
[Global Notice: Congratulations to the player 'Future Skywhale'. His bio-engine has demonstrated significant potential. Achievement reward granted.]
He stopped spinning. The car coasted to a halt.
Once again, the familiar three options appeared before him:
Make the Slime his starting species.
Obtain a permanent game account.
Start a second life.
Everyone waited in suspense.
Future Skywhale barely hesitated. He already knew his answer.
The first option was tempting—but wasteful. The Slime was a one-function lifeform. Without mobility, it wasn't fit to serve as a foundation species.
The second option? Nice for most players, but unnecessary for him. He had no fear of elimination.
His eyes fell to the final choice:
Start a second life.
He inhaled deeply.
"To most people, a second life means nothing. But for me…"
He remembered the moment he saw this option during Akinas's livestream. That was when he had resolved to earn an achievement at any cost.
"I've already reached the peak of my current life. Everything's just... boring."
He reached out and silently made his choice.
"Let's see what surprises this world has for me."