Bunch of ass-kissers. But I like them.
Xu Zhi smiled faintly.
There were only fifty seats available, so naturally, demand far exceeded supply.
To graduate from a prestigious university, Xu Zhi had once poured in relentless effort. He possessed talent, yes—but at his core, he was just a rural student who had clawed his way up. Back then, there was no time for games. And even now, he remained strict.
"You don't even understand evolutionary theory, and you want to play a god-tier simulation?" he muttered coldly.
Let the world feel his pain.
He wasn't the same man anymore. Gone were the days of quietly watching the players do as they pleased. If they wanted to enter his game, they had to earn it—through effort, competition, and sheer intellect. For his sake, they would struggle and rise.
"Let's see what level these people are at," he said, settling into his chair. With casual grace, Xu Zhi opened a research paper. As the hidden Great Creator, it was time to evaluate the qualifications of his would-be staff.
The title on the screen read:
An Organism with the Structure of a J-20 Fighter Jet: Evolving Birds with Hollow Bones
It was a massive paper, nearly ten thousand words long. Accompanied by detailed diagrams, evolutionary flowcharts, and DNA sequence breakdowns, the thesis cited classical biology texts and presented plausible, well-reasoned hypotheses.
Terrifying.
Absolutely terrifying.
Xu Zhi gulped.
How long had it been? Just how much had these people studied to submit something this advanced? It was overflowing with complex terminology and cutting-edge biological theory—he could barely keep up.
And that was just the first one.
He opened another email. Another thesis—longer still. More diagrams, more detail.
Analyzing the Structure of Electric Eels to Evolve Lightning Birds
"These people are insane," Xu Zhi muttered. "A hundred times more dedicated than I was in college."
He remembered staying up late, scribbling reports and cobbling together research for his professors. But this… this was obsession. They weren't just gaming. They were building worlds.
Xu Zhi shook his head. The material went far over his head, so he left the evaluations to the Hive Mind.
Whether they plagiarized or not didn't matter. If they lacked the real skills, they'd be eliminated soon enough. This was a survival-of-the-fittest game, after all.
"Looks like the Genesis Sandbox is on the right track." He turned to gaze at the courtyard's miniature world.
"Work hard, everyone. Don't let someone else steal your slot."
Within the sandbox, thousands of miniature lifeforms raced against time—competing, evolving, and struggling to secure their place as beta testers.
Tomorrow morning, the screening would be complete. A new beginning awaited.
Xu Zhi was pleased with the situation. His gaze shifted to the large sandbox—his true project. He had introduced knowledge over a day ago, and for them, centuries had passed. Civilization was taking shape.
The Babylonian Tribe had entered a golden age of growth.
The once-hostile witches who clashed at the sacred pool of Ameya had since buried the hatchet with the appearance of the God of Wisdom—Hermes.
With divine guidance and glimpses of a brighter future, the three witches began dedicating themselves to study. Their goals: longevity, immortality, and mastery of the Three Great Disciplines—Alchemy, Meditation, and Magic.
In the 36th year of Babylon, they fully grasped the art of Meditation. Their powers grew exponentially. Together, they authored a foundational text:
A Beginner's Guide to Meditation and Magic,
disseminated only to the tribe's most promising witches.
The tension between them began to dissolve.
Circe, once consumed by lust and hedonistic rituals, had been reined in by the more disciplined Medea and Cassandra. She ceased her harmful acts and embraced orthodoxy—at least, on the surface.
In the 47th year of Babylon, disaster struck. A monstrous beast—the mighty Baboko—descended upon the tribe.
The witches waged a desperate battle. At the brink of death, Medea experienced a profound epiphany and gave birth to a fearsome spell:
Heaven's Hammer—a warhammer of compressed air that crashed down from the sky, flattening the forest and slaying the beast in a single strike. Medea ascended that day, earning her title: the Witch of Glory.
That same year, while tending her herbs, Cassandra conceived the spell Nectar of Spring, a powerful healing elixir.
The year after, Circe too reached enlightenment, crafting a sinister new spell: Cursed Doll.
By the 57th year, Magic flourished. The three witches refined and perfected their respective magical systems. Meditation and spellcraft had taken root—but the enigmatic art of Alchemy remained elusive.
The tribe had expanded into more than ten distinct clans, with over thirty formidable witches in their ranks.
In the 103rd year of Babylon, the trio compiled the arcane compendium:
The Occult Gate of Truth—seventeen spells bound in a single tome. Wielding staves and casting spells, they hunted the land's fearsome beasts.
Their footsteps were followed by the wails of dying monsters.
In the 139th year, the nation of Babylon was officially founded. The witches reigned as a triune, ushering in an era of wonder.
But the peace was short-lived.
Only a year later, the royal palace descended into chaos. Blood stained the halls. Circe, the witch of curses, rebelled. Alone, she fended off the other two and fled with her loyalists to distant lands, founding a new sect:
The Thorned Rose.
Babylon plunged into darkness and instability.
Xu Zhi stood atop his chair, peering into the sandbox with his binoculars.
"So much has happened while I wasn't paying attention," he sighed.
Then he chuckled.
"I knew it. Meditation was too rigid for Circe. She faked submission for years, but she couldn't handle the loneliness."
Behind the backs of her fellow witches, Circe had pursued her own research. She refrained from harming the tribe's men—but only outwardly. The Hive Mind reported everything.
She had imprisoned several Evil Eyes, bizarre creatures with psychic abilities, and used them to fulfill her lustful urges.
Xu Zhi was genuinely shocked. "Tentacle play? Seriously?"
From her twisted practices, Circe developed a radical new method of cultivation—one that surpassed conventional meditation. In his eyes, she was now akin to a succubus.
Years of secret training had sharpened her spiritual power, eventually allowing her to corrupt other witches. They abandoned the iron laws of chastity and transformed into Fallen Witches.
And the moment Babylon was born, Circe snapped. She wanted real men again—Evil Eyes were no longer enough. Disappearances followed.
Medea and Cassandra investigated.
The truth was discovered.
A confrontation followed.
Circe went rogue.
Xu Zhi didn't dwell on the drama. He was focused on civilization's progress. "Meditation and Magic have advanced, but Potions and Alchemy still lag behind…"
He was impatient, but rushing wouldn't help.
He exhaled slowly, calming himself.
"They've opened the path," he murmured. "Then maybe… it's time I follow them."
Amused, he leaned back. "If their civilization is based on the Evil Eye gene… Hive Mind, assimilate it for me. I want the Evil Eye gene as my first."
Xu Zhi's eyes sparkled with excitement.
"I'm going to be a wizard."