Stepping into the room, Lin Tuo, as usual, checked on the "bonsai" and the "fish tank."
Hmm, everything was fine with the former. In the human sector, tents and wooden huts had already been erected, though their numbers were still extremely few.
Most people still slept on the ground.
Fortunately, it was summer, and the temperature was far better than on the wasteland.
So, for the people of the wasteland, even sleeping outdoors was an entirely acceptable living environment.
As for the fish tank…
"Hm, already adapted?"
Lin Tuo noticed that those strange fish seemed to have acclimated to their new environment.
At this very moment, since it was their regular feeding time, countless "fish-men" broke the surface of the water, craning their necks toward the sky, eagerly awaiting.
They looked like hungry chicks.
When Lin Tuo sprinkled breadcrumbs into the tank, they happily scrambled over and buried themselves in their food, carefree as ever.
After confirming both sides were stable, Lin Tuo returned to his desk, picked up pen and paper, and began sketching out his thoughts.
Sandbox No. 1 had already been dissolved, becoming an oasis.
That meant Sandbox No. 2—an even larger map—needed to be put on the agenda. But before opening up a new sandbox, Lin Tuo felt it was necessary to review the first experiment.
The civilization of the Tack Continent was an experiment. It not only allowed Lin Tuo to harvest a great deal of Ether but also yielded extra insights.
"Hm. The first half of the sandbox was nothing remarkable. The real points worth reflecting on are my dissemination of science and the subsequent wastelandization."
After days of thought, Lin Tuo concluded that although the detonation of the Annihilation Bomb largely stemmed from the "Mad Emperor's" personal will, it also had an element of inevitability.
"Intelligent beings are born with the instinct to explore the world. But this sandbox was too small. During the Chi Kingdom's era, humanity was constrained by the endless ocean's storms and knew little about the 'boundary.'
Therefore, they didn't have that particular worry.
Until I spread science, productivity in the Chi Kingdom advanced, and people began to recognize the shape of the world they lived in…"
Lin Tuo realized that even without the Mad Emperor, as civilization advanced, problems were bound to arise sooner or later. Perhaps not as violently, but still enough to warrant vigilance.
"To avoid this problem, either I must expand the map…
Take the real world for reference: humans also desire to explore the cosmos, but the universe is so vast that, even now, manned spaceflight remains within short distances. Obviously, I can't do that—at least not yet.
Or, I can suppress the level of civilization. But that runs counter to my goal of harvesting Ether."
Sitting at his desk, Lin Tuo frowned and wrote two lines:
Technological RouteCultivation Route
This was what he'd been thinking about all along:
Which path should the sand table civilizations follow?
The former was obvious—using Earth as a template, it was absolutely viable, and indeed, that was the route the Chi Kingdom took.
The latter, however, was still just a concept.
Or more precisely, it was the path Lin Tuo was trying to open in reality: universal cultivation of the "Breath of Qi," enabling the advancement of life itself.
In other words, teaching the Breath of Qi to sand table humans as a means to increase Ether.
This idea had surfaced long ago, but Lin Tuo had never attempted it—mainly because of a very practical issue.
In his view, under backward productivity conditions, this route would be hard to pursue.
The reasoning was simple.
Take the Chi Kingdom before science was granted: the vast majority of the population couldn't eat or clothe themselves properly. Average life expectancy was barely thirty, and infant mortality was common.
Meanwhile, the Breath of Qi was slow to show results, and talent varied greatly between individuals.
Most people had no energy left after a day's labor.
Even if a few individuals improved their lifeforce, the boost in Ether would be minimal. By comparison, developing productivity was far more efficient.
In the real world, though overwork was a problem, people generally still had more energy, and quite a number even sought fitness—those could be redirected into cultivation.
Another point was:
Judging by the results in Yang City, most people lacked the "aptitude." Even if they practiced diligently, their gains were limited.
Only because of the sheer population size did the effect seem significant.
Without that factor, truly gifted individuals capable of meaningfully raising Ether density were very few.
"The ideal scenario is a large enough sandbox, where the internal civilization has already reached a modern-like stage. Under such conditions, promoting the Breath of Qi would, in theory, yield the best results."
This was why Lin Tuo had hurried to boost the Chi Kingdom's productivity.
Because in the limited space of Sandbox No. 1, without external push, it was nearly impossible to achieve a leap in civilization.
But looking back now, such "pulling seedlings to help them grow" carried grave risks.
"The Chi people suddenly mastered an entire scientific system, saving a massive amount of trial-and-error.
It did quickly improve their lives, reduced countless deaths and suffering, and advanced productivity—but it also planted hidden dangers."
Lin Tuo rubbed his pen, deep in thought.
It was as if an immature civilization had been prematurely handed world-ending weapons. With no societal maturity, reverence, or checks against power, the outcome was obvious.
"In other words, to avoid such problems recurring, I can't forcibly cut corners. Even if I want to help them, I must do so cautiously…
And once a sandbox civilization reaches the point of possessing destructive weapons, I must pay close attention to ensure they don't recklessly cross the 'Threshold of Destruction.'"
Yes—the Threshold of Destruction.
For Sandbox No. 1, the emergence of the Annihilation Bomb filled that role.
Before then, no matter how mad an emperor might become, he could at most start wars, but never destroy the world.
And from experience, the "operation log" gave no warnings about such things.
In other words, in the early stages of the New Continent, Lin Tuo could relax. But once the civilization inside grasped destructive weapons, he would need to check in frequently—
Or perhaps set up an observation post.
In any case, he had to prevent civilization from self-destruction.
Of course, without his interference to accelerate, it would take a long time for a sandbox civilization to develop that far.
In the past, such a slow pace would have hindered his Ether gains.
But given that the New Continent would be many times larger than Sandbox No. 1, with a vastly greater population, sheer numbers would compensate for slow development.
"On that foundation, I can also try giving them the Breath of Qi. Even if productivity limits its effect, combined with their innate abilities…
Perhaps something interesting could emerge."
With that thought, Lin Tuo leaned forward, refining his plan.
By noon, he had drafted the basics of his plan. But instead of rushing, he decided to wait until evening.
At lunch, he noticed something surprising: that viral article had already been taken down.
But it was too late—the influence had already spread throughout Yang City.
Through the Evolution Sand Table, Lin Tuo saw more and more individuals attempting to cultivate and connect to the "Ether Cloud."
In the morning, there had been only a few hundred "threads" connecting heaven and earth. By noon, that number surged into the thousands, and throughout the afternoon, it kept skyrocketing.
By nightfall, Lin Tuo estimated that in Yang City alone, tens of thousands had begun practicing the Azure Spirit Breathing Technique, successfully establishing connection with Ether!
That meant perhaps one in every hundred or so was cultivating!
That number was staggering.
Unlike the first time, this time many would likely persist. And once they cultivated long-term, physical improvements would accumulate.
Add to that the gifted few, who would serve as role models, spreading reputation.
Widespread cultivation across the whole city was just around the corner.
"All that's left is to wait."
Lin Tuo whispered, quite pleased, then glanced at the dark night outside, his expression turning solemn.
"No day like today. Let's begin tonight."
He was ready to start constructing Sandbox No. 2.
First, purchasing land area.
"Virtual panel."
At his mental call, the interface appeared. Lin Tuo swiftly opened the store and fixed his gaze on "Creation Range."
[Creation Range: 1000 points / 1 million square kilometers]
"How much Ether do I have?" he asked inwardly.
The Evolution Sand Table responded:
[Host currently possesses Ether value: 5387 points]
Over five thousand!
This was the wealth he had accumulated by harvesting from Sandbox No. 1.
It had been 5400+ initially.
But battles in the wasteland, body tempering, and frequent Ether consumption for simulating phantom weapons with the Weaponizing Fist had reduced it to this.
After rounding, he had 5000 points—enough to buy 5 million square kilometers.
What did that mean?
Roughly half of Europe!
If most of it was arable and habitable, the population it could sustain would be enormous.
Compared to Sandbox No. 1, it was nearly seventeen times larger.
[Confirm purchase?]
"Yes!"
The moment the words left his mouth, Lin Tuo felt himself hollow out as his Ether reserves dropped to just 387 points.
At the same time, a line appeared on the virtual panel:
[Purchase successful!]
Returning to the main page, Lin Tuo took a deep breath and opened "Creation Mode."
The page shifted.
The sandbox Yang City shattered into countless motes of light.
In its place appeared a vast, familiar, dynamic world map.
Expressionless, Lin Tuo gazed down at the globe. Continents floated below, wisps of ethereal currents swirling above.
His eyes swept across the continents, not lingering anywhere.
For 5 million square kilometers, avoiding existing human states left few options besides Antarctica, which was unsuitable.
The Sahara Desert was one candidate, but after considering, Lin Tuo gave it up—for Sandbox No. 2, he wanted something new.
"What if… I put it in the ocean?"
As his gaze drifted across the Pacific, the thought rose in his heart.
"Putting a lid on the Pacific… sounds good."
(End of Chapter)