Xu Zhi exhaled deeply and shook his head as he watched the scene unfold.
"Don't blame me for knocking you down a peg—you brought this on yourself," he muttered, casually munching on an apple. "And you're causing me trouble too. Do you think that fan consumes zero electricity? This thing guzzles power like an air conditioner on overdrive. My electricity bill's going to suffer!"
Having leisurely crushed the self-confidence of a certain overambitious transmigrator, Xu Zhi returned to his chair with a satisfied stretch. He propped up his feet and gestured lazily at the fan.
"I'll just leave it here in case someone tries to reach the Land of the Gods again. Next time, I'll blow them away before they even get close."
Even as he acted nonchalant, Xu Zhi stayed vigilant.
"I'm still too weak," he murmured to himself. "According to their power system, I'm just a lowly First-Level Wizard—a total newbie. Even the lie I told nearly got exposed. Under that guy's leadership, the civilization in the sandbox is progressing way too fast. They're already probing the world's boundaries and searching for the so-called gods."
The Seventh-Level Epic Wizard was no joke.
To drive him away, Xu Zhi had to unleash wind force equivalent to a Level Ten typhoon—enough to uproot trees in the real world—just to blow away someone barely the size of an ant.
And yet, that ant could kill a grown human.
"At this rate, they already pose a threat to me. What happens when they level up again? Each new tier transforms a wizard fundamentally. Their power multiplies hundreds—no, thousands—of times."
A Seventh-Level Epic Wizard the size of an ant was scary.
But an Eighth-Level Mythic Wizard? Size wouldn't matter at all. They would be invincible.
Xu Zhi imagined a horrifying image:
A rice-grain-sized flying ant, staff in hand, flitting through the air and casting forbidden spells with a flick of its wrist—slaughtering entire crowds of modern humans like a living plague.
"Thankfully, no Mythic-Level Wizards have shown up yet. That level's still theoretical... for now."
The Three Witches had devised the level classifications—Legendary Sixth, Epic Seventh, and Mythic Eighth—based on some vague remarks from Mercury, the so-called God of Wisdom.
According to ancient Sumerian records, Gilgamesh had surpassed the Three Witches, who were Level Six. Mercury referred to him as a Demigod—meaning he must have been Level Seven. That made the next stage, Level Eight, the realm of gods.
Thus, the term: Mythic Level.
"To think they took my offhand comments and turned them into a full-blown system. And now, Level Sevens have already appeared. Level Eights are just around the corner. I need a plan—fast."
The Mythic Level marked the threshold of godhood.
Even if the gods of the Magic World were only the size of ants.
"If I were to release one of these Mythic Magic Emperors into the modern world... they might be able to annihilate human society. The thought alone is terrifying—an insect-like god fluttering through the air, casually murdering civilians on a whim."
The image lingered in Xu Zhi's mind.
"This is still a higher-dimensional civilization with supernatural powers. I made them small to limit them, but it might've backfired."
He frowned. "And I still need to establish the Land of the Gods above the Magic World's sky. Someone's going to hit Level Eight and try to meet Achilles again. When that happens, I won't be able to keep up the charade."
Being a Creator was exhausting.
In hindsight, maybe their rapid development was due to their tiny bodies. Smaller forms condensed energy more efficiently, accelerating evolution and strengthening their magic output. Their strength was disproportionately high compared to their size.
It was evolution by optimization—high power density in tiny packages.
Having just dealt with another bold "rebellion" against the Creator—a smug little wizard now eating dirt—Xu Zhi was interrupted by a phone call.
"Hey, I've arrived at school," said a gentle voice on the other end.
It was Chen Xi.
Xu Zhi's expression instantly softened. His voice turned warm.
"That's good. Don't worry—I'll buy a computer online and have it delivered to you. Make sure to unbox it and sign for it. Once the Third Open Beta starts, you can dive in as soon as you get a slot."
"Oh!" Chen Xi sounded thrilled.
They chatted for a while before he hung up.
"I almost forgot about the Third Open Beta because of that guy's rebellion…" Xu Zhi sighed.
Grantham was still in the game, and barring anything crazy, he'd probably survive another hundred years—that was just a day in real time.
And with the help of online players, maybe he'd last several hundred more.
Still, that would only be a few days here. Not enough to concern him.
Xu Zhi figured it was the perfect opportunity to prep the sandbox for the next wave of evolution. After all, it was his main source of supernatural species.
And this time, he planned to let Chen Xi join the game.
"I need more species," he muttered. "And that floating island—the Land of the Gods—is giving me a migraine. How am I supposed to make something like that?"
Gone were the days when he eagerly handcrafted every organism and detail. Now? He was a hands-off manager. A supervisor. A god with outsourced labor.
Why design anything himself when his sandbox civilization would do it for him?
But this Land of the Gods... it had to be his doing. No one else could fake divinity for him.
He sighed. "Forget it. Let's get the Open Beta done first."
For the rest of the evening, Xu Zhi racked his brain, brainstorming ideas for the Third Open Beta.
When morning arrived, the sun blazed across the sky. He typed out an announcement, ran a quick spellcheck, and posted it on the official forums.
[Spore Evolution: Third Open Beta Now Live]
Thank you to all netizens for your continued support. Many of you have been eagerly awaiting the Third Open Beta. We've heard your voices—and it's finally here.
Thirty Beta Tester slots are available. Applications are now open.
As expected, the forum exploded into chaos the moment the post went live.