Though Xu Zhi had gained the beauty of a god, he didn't feel joy—only the throb of a growing headache.
Chen Xi is going to lose her mind when she sees this, he thought bitterly. This change is way too sudden.
"It's over. At this rate, I'll be arrested and turned into a lab rat," Xu Zhi muttered aloud. "Can I modify my genes?" He turned to the Mother Hive. "I want to tone down this... ridiculous handsomeness."
His current appearance was simply too perfect. The kind of face that would stop traffic, cause riots at crosswalks, and earn screaming fans with a single glance. With his flawless physique and mythic features, he looked less like a person and more like a character from divine folklore.
He longed for his old self.
His previous appearance had been plenty attractive—more than enough to turn heads—but it still felt like him. Even then, it had been a stretch to convince Chen Xi and the neighbors that he'd simply "grown more handsome." They'd accepted it, though reluctantly.
But now? Now they'd never buy it.
I really don't want to end up dissected in some underground facility...
"Would you like to assimilate Tyranis cells?" the Mother Hive inquired. "As the Tyranis Lord and Creator, you are already eligible to unlock your genetic pathways and freely modify your body."
I'm already a Tyranis Hero...?
I've become what countless Tyranis dream of evolving into?
Previously, his body had been far too weak to undergo the transformation. But now—with his improved condition—he was finally ready to claim his inheritance.
And he didn't hesitate. He wasn't going to accept death quietly. Why cling to fragile humanity when he could transcend it?
Integrate Tyranis cells.
"The fusion begins," the Hive Mind confirmed with mechanical finality.
Instantly, agony consumed him.
Soul-rending pain coursed through his nerves like wildfire. His skin prickled with goosebumps, and cold sweat drenched his clothes. He collapsed onto his bed, trembling, then went still—fainted.
When he awoke, three hours had passed.
Xu Zhi slowly dragged himself out of bed. His body was slick with black and gray grime, as if he'd rolled through tar. He immediately showered, changed, and began his inspection.
He felt different.
He was different.
His body pulsed with boundless potential.
"I've really become a Tyranis..." he whispered, clenching his fist. "I can accelerate cell division and literally kill myself of old age... whenever I want. Amazing."
He closed his eyes and reached inward.
Inside his consciousness, he could see a vast black space—at its center, a twisted double helix rotating slowly.
His DNA.
A person's genome was usually bloated with chaotic, disordered junk—sometimes even embedded with dormant diseases. But now, Xu Zhi's genes had been refined. Optimized. The clutter was gone, replaced by long, blank sequences, open and ready to be overwritten.
Still, he didn't plan on adding new genes just yet.
Currently, he only had two templates stored in his database: the termite and the gorilla.
Gilgamesh had been the result of fusing those two.
But they didn't suit Xu Zhi. He was just a farmer. His life was quiet, peaceful. There was no rush to become stronger.
His first priority was curing himself.
He had to remove—or at least rewrite—the genes responsible for his stomach cancer.
Getting stronger can come later.
Xu Zhi focused his senses on the afflicted area.
"What the hell...?" His face paled. "Final stage?! Just a few days ago, it was only the middle stages!"
"The stronger the body becomes, the stronger its rebellious cells," the Mother Hive responded flatly. "Cancer adapts."
Xu Zhi was speechless.
So, the more power I gain, the more powerful my cancer becomes?
If I'd absorbed any more energy during the last extinction, I'd already be dead...
He broke into a cold sweat.
"I can't absorb any more extinction energy for now." He exhaled slowly. Thank god the next one's still far off.
After all, he hadn't wanted to trigger the last reset either. He only did it to rebalance the sandbox. His true hope had always been to guide a thriving world—not end it.
Still, caution was now critical.
"If the Bugapes go berserk for a while... I just have to let them. I can't afford another feedback surge."
He leaned back in his chair, feeling the heavy pressure of mortality again.
Gilgamesh's final desperate struggle resurfaced in his mind.
That primal fear—the clawing dread of the end—now lived inside him, too.
"Will I really survive this...?" Xu Zhi murmured, eyes dim.
He could feel it. Death wasn't far.
"I don't have much time left... In the next era, I have to accelerate the sandbox's development—force it to produce supernatural abilities. If I want to live, I need to bet everything on evolution."
He looked down at the miniature world.
The land was bleak. Silent. Dead.
A night had passed—forty or fifty years in sandbox time—but the Bugapes had yet to fully recover.
They'd preserved only one breeding pair from each species. Rebuilding the ecosystem would take time. They lacked food. Their populations were slow to regrow.
But something remarkable had happened.
They'd started to heed the divine message left behind—Xu Zhi's own words—that all life was equal. Aside from what they needed to eat, they'd ceased random killings. Some even helped other species repopulate and flourish.
And already, strange new creatures had begun to emerge.
Xu Zhi watched all this from his sunny courtyard, quietly chewing on the breakfast Chen Xi had brought over.
"Civilization is developing again... but too slowly." He sighed, frustrated. "At this rate, I won't make it."
A new thought surfaced.
Should I open up a second sandbox? Begin a new Genesis?
He could evolve new life, guide a fresh civilization—one born to wield supernatural powers.
But the idea wasn't practical.
Starting over would take too much time.
The current sandbox was already progressing toward the emergence of superpowers. He just needed to be patient.
Still, he couldn't help but wonder—how could he accelerate it?
"They won't develop just because I want them to..." he muttered, frowning. "Maybe I should borrow someone else's mind..."
After all, intelligence was unpredictable. That was its greatest power.
And if his own intellect wasn't enough, then why not recruit others?
A bold, dangerous idea formed in his mind.
If he couldn't speed things up alone, then he'd get help.
He remembered Spore, a sandbox game he'd once played—starting as a single-celled creature and evolving into bizarre alien life.
Xu Zhi turned to the Hive Mind. "If I make a new miniature sandbox... can I convert it into an online game? One where people can project their souls into it—and help me evolve new species?"