Xu Zhi hadn't expected things to escalate like this.
From the beginning, he knew it was going to be a brutal, high-difficulty game—one that required a deep understanding of evolutionary biology. That's why he hadn't planned to open it to the public or seek feedback.
By all logic, it should've stayed a niche curiosity. Who would've guessed there were people out there willing to study evolutionary theory—just to play a game?
Maybe there really was a subset of gamers who enjoyed this kind of intellectual punishment.
After all, sandbox games like Minecraft had always been a hit. Add in hardcore survival mechanics and a godlike creator role? It was a recipe for obsession.
Beneath a recent in-depth review post, the comment section exploded. Within minutes, thousands of replies rolled in:
Dancing Basketball Player:
Question! Is it really that amazing? The guy's explanation is so detailed it's actually convincing me to try it.
Crazy African:
It's too hardcore. You start as a spore! Evolution needs real biological knowledge. Are we supposed to study Darwin just to play a game?
Demanding Little Beauty:
Wow! Even a bad student like me is excited. The possibilities sound endless!
Super Tech Geek:
Honestly, I don't think the thread starter has even scratched the surface. Like that giant creature he mentioned—what's up with that? So far, all his species have been evolutionary failures.
Cerebral Bluff:
I just picked up The Origin of Species! Soon I'll be smarter than a biology professor. I just need a spore now! Let me beta test! Waiting online—urgently!
Some were thrilled. Some begged for access. Others simply mocked it as a hoax—accusing the poster of orchestrating a hundred-person LARP.
But then came the turning point.
Akina's Speedster started live streaming footage through his VR glasses.
The scene opened to a deep, endless blue ocean—eerily lifelike, as if pulled straight from a cinematic masterpiece.
"Friends, I've just evolved vision. This part's easy now. Next, I'm planning to hunt algae-based organisms and evolve into a carnivore—just like the arthropods from Earth's Cambrian period."
Suddenly, a massive beetle-like creature swam into view.
Chat exploded:
"Holy crap, what is that?! Looks like an ancient trilobite!"
"Don't fight it! RUN! You're food right now—get stronger and then come back to eat it!"
"Be patient with evolution. One misstep and you're extinct!"
The thread went viral.
Xu Zhi watched it all unfold, a small amused smile tugging at his lips.
The excitement wasn't bad. He let them chatter.
As for the petition with over ten thousand signatures begging for more beta tester slots?
"Not my problem. I'm not after your money, so I couldn't care less."
He chuckled and closed the forum.
This was just a side project. Its popularity was unexpected, sure—but ultimately irrelevant.
They could scream all they wanted. He wasn't doing it for them.
He didn't need that many players.
Unless something unforeseen happened, the "beta test" would remain capped at a hundred. Forever.
Turning his attention back to the large sandbox—the real focus of his work—Xu Zhi's eyes sharpened.
The previous era had ended with the rise and fall of the Sumerians. Only three true super-beings had emerged: Gilgamesh and two other kings.
Now, it was time to push civilization toward something new. He wanted a system that could produce supernatural abilities—magic, ideally.
Back then, Gilgamesh had commissioned the court's black mage to brew an elixir of immortality. That experiment could be seen as the earliest form of arcane science.
Xu Zhi now hoped for the rise of a magic civilization—with a genius mage who could explore alchemy, medicine, and spellcraft. Someone who might even create a cure for his terminal cancer.
But such breakthroughs needed inspiration—dangerous and bizarre species that defied logic. Creatures born from twisted, supernatural evolution.
He gazed toward the swampland at the edge of the sandbox.
"A day has passed... and the Evil Eye has evolved?"
Xu Zhi's expression lit up with interest.
In just a century, this grotesque, eyeball-like species had multiplied exponentially. With no predators and boundless resources, they had taken over the swamp.
But overpopulation brought its own crisis. Competition became savage. The Evil Eyes turned on one another—fighting, feeding, and devolving into chaos.
Within this crucible of violence, a mutation emerged.
A unique variant was born. It had no intelligence, but its gaze could enchant and pacify other creatures—making them docile prey.
Xu Zhi watched, fascinated, as this new Evil Eye ascended the food chain.
Without natural enemies, it rapidly spread. The ordinary Evil Eyes couldn't resist its power—and were soon wiped out.
The swamp now belonged to its progeny: a hypnotic, predatory subspecies that ruled through charm and consumption.
"An anarchic psychic force?" Xu Zhi murmured. "Fascinating. It's like a living Venus flytrap. No brain, but it manipulates others into becoming its meal."
After four eras of evolution, the first true supernatural species had emerged.
But the surprises weren't over.
Turning his gaze once more to the sandbox, Xu Zhi spotted something new—primitive Bugapes were entering the swamp's depths.