The Spectacle of the Explosive Experiment

The text on the virtual panel came to an end.

Lin Tuo silently willed it, retracting the entire panel, and began handling the follow-up matters.

He drew his avatar back into his body... turned off the flashlight, removed the support frame fixed to the sandbox... downed the now-cold strong tea in one gulp, tidied up the takeout boxes, instant noodle cups, and snack wrappers, then squeezed out some toothpaste and washed up in the morning sunlight.

Fortunately, there was no one else at home.

His disheveled appearance wouldn't be seen by anyone.

After finishing all this, Lin Tuo threw himself heavily into his chair, feeling utterly drained, as if his body had been overdrawn.

"I actually lectured for five days and four nights? I feel like even the cram school teachers aren't as diligent as me..."

Silently complaining in his mind, Lin Tuo looked at the sandbox, which had already restarted "Time Acceleration," and felt a bit emotional.

"Five days and four nights" was naturally an exaggeration—he had rested quite a few times in between—but overall, it had been a major project. Fortunately, the final result looked pretty good.

The final act of "Sky-Treading away" was something he had planned long ago.

The purpose was mainly to further strengthen his authority.

"Such an exit will leave a deep impression on the Chi Kingdom's court and public. With their reverence for the gods or sages, the development policies I've set for them should be implemented smoothly."

Of course, none of this would take effect immediately.

As the civilization in the sandbox evolved and social complexity increased, the time flow ratio would further decrease.

Lin Tuo estimated that it would take at least a day or two for the Aether in Creation Mode to show a noticeable increase.

As long as it was faster than normal, it wasn't a wasted effort.

As for the Aether in Observation Mode... well, although over a week had passed, the Aether concentration in the Yang City area was still at a "negligible" level.

No helping it...

With a soft sigh, Lin Tuo reached for his phone, planning to order breakfast and then catch up on sleep.

But just then, a string of messages suddenly popped up in his chat app.

Lin Tuo clicked in and found it was a non-work group from his former company department. The group admin had just sent a message, @everyone, and it immediately stirred up a lot of people.

"What happened?"

"What's going on?"

Group admin: "Check the link I sent! A live broadcast of the armed demolition in the Takk Desert!"

Seeing this line, Lin Tuo's drowsiness vanished.

Armed demolition!

After a brief recollection, he remembered that two days ago, he had seen rumors that, due to the repeated failures of various detection methods, the research team outside the Takk Desert seemed to be preparing for armed demolition.

That is, burying a large amount of explosives to carry out targeted blasting on the outer shell of the "Great Wall," the sandbox's Isolation Shield.

This plan had been proposed early on but never approved.

Lin Tuo recalled that some Netizens had previously judged online that if research made no progress, armed demolition was almost inevitable.

But he hadn't expected the plan to not only be approved but also to be carried out this very morning.

In fact, it was because Lin Tuo had been focusing his energy on the sandbox lectures that he hadn't learned about it sooner.

Fortunately, someone posted it in the group, or he would have missed it.

He sat up straight, thought for a moment, and instead of clicking directly, used his laptop to open the link in the group chat, which redirected to a live stream.

The stream's title was exceptionally direct:

"Live: Blasting the Takk Black Box Site!"

He checked the streamer—it wasn't an official media outlet. Thinking about it, this wasn't a rocket launch; there was no reason for an official broadcast.

In theory, the area around the blast site should have been cordoned off.

"I wonder how this streamer is filming..."

Lin Tuo muttered to himself, and soon noticed that the stream's picture was indeed very blurry.

The camera seemed to be mounted at some high point, using mechanical or algorithmic means to zoom in, magnifying a distant scene.

This made the image exceptionally blurry, only showing a long highway, vehicles by the roadside, faint, busy workers.

And further off, that Great Wall.

Clearly, the blast site was very far from the streamer, probably only close enough to see the explosion's flash.

As for why the blast point wasn't chosen in a more remote, isolated location, he had no idea—likely due to various practical factors.

Glancing at the top left of the webpage, the stream's popularity had already exceeded 200,000 and was still growing rapidly, with large numbers of accounts flooding in every second.

They were probably all Netizens drawn in by the spectacle.

In the barrage, comments scrolled rapidly:

"No way, no way? There's actually a live stream? Live on-site, the streamer's awesome!"

"This blurriness is worse than mosaic. Are you serious, streamer? What's the point of watching something this blurry?"

"Yeah, did you film this from across the galaxy?"

"Heh, take off your glasses and the blur becomes clear. I've got your back, streamer."

"Alright, stop arguing... It's good enough that we can even watch this."

The netizens discussed heatedly.

Some voiced complaints, others spammed "666," but overall, the atmosphere wasn't bad. After all, everyone knew that no outsider could get close to a demolition test like this.

If not for the chosen location being special, even this view wouldn't be possible.

In the livestream room, the streamer hadn't shown their face and seemed to be adjusting the camera. At this point, they spoke in an apologetic tone:

"Sorry, everyone, there's really no helping it. The distance is too far, so this is the best clarity I can get."

"No worries."

"It's fine."

"Streamer, ignore the haters."

A flurry of comments scrolled by.

Then, Lin Tuo heard the unknown streamer explain:

"Look, everyone, the screen shows the scheduled demolition site. You might not be able to see clearly, so let me tell you what I know.

Starting last night, people arrived and began setting up the explosion points.

See, right here... this section of the Great Wall... the area is sealed off by the military. Of course, we can't see that clearly, but they should attempt the blast soon..."

More and more people flooded into the livestream room.

Lin Tuo, sitting in front of his computer, had an expression that kept shifting.

Though rationally, he believed that with the abilities the "Evolution Sandbox" had displayed, it definitely wouldn't fear humanity's thermal weapons, emotionally, he still felt a subconscious trace of tension.

But compared to him, the people inside the blockade zone in the distant Tucker Desert were undoubtedly far more nervous.

A certain section of the Tucker Desert.

Inside the blockade zone.

At this moment, the early morning sun had already risen, illuminating the vast, boundless land. From this angle, large stretches of the Great Wall showed a mix of black and gold colors.

Amid the deafening roar of machinery, the entire blockade zone was thick with tension and oppression.

In the distance, soldiers transferred from a nearby military unit were busy setting up blast points. Outside, there were also large numbers of personnel used to seal off the area.

Further away, there were rows of firing positions, set up to guard against potential "unexpected risks."

And beyond what people could see, special forces had already set up missile launchers, waiting for orders at any moment.

Outside the danger zone.

Inside a temporary tent.

A group of scholars had gathered here. They weren't wearing lab coats, just simple jackets, and their faces were lined with exhaustion.

Those at the center had graying, thinning hair, and they stared solemnly at the pitch-black "Great Wall."

"How much longer until we start?" one of them suddenly asked into a communicator.

"The explosives have been placed. The final round of inspection is underway... Personnel are expected to evacuate in ten minutes." The voice on the other end was extremely steady.

"Good."

Without any extra conversation, the surrounding researchers were already on high alert, setting up various observation devices to record any changes the explosion might trigger.

"Don't be nervous. Relax." Sensing the heavy atmosphere, a scholar of clearly high status smiled and said to the younger operators.

"Younger" was a relative term—in reality, none of the people operating these instruments were under thirty.

Pull any one of them out, place them in any major university or research institute, and they'd be prized assets. Yet right now, they were all incredibly tense.

"Academician Zhou," one person hesitated before finally asking, unable to hold back, "do you think this can actually blast it open?"

"What do you all think?"

"I can't say for sure. The power of the explosion is unquestionable, but the material of the Great Wall is just too special..."

The camp fell into absolute silence. No one spoke, which made it clear that this was the prevailing opinion.

Over this period, no one knew the immense pressure this group had been under.

The eyes of the entire world were fixed on them, yet their research had made no progress.

In the end, they had no choice but to accept the proposal of demolition.

Online, countless people believed that as long as thermal weapons were used, they would surely crack open this mysterious black box.

But these people here weren't so confident.

Thermal weapons?

High-yield explosives?

These unstoppable killers on the battlefield—could they really work against something that seemed like alien technology?

In the heavy silence, seconds ticked by one by one.

Soon, the evacuation was complete, and everyone had entered the protective facilities at a safe distance.

"Ignition countdown!"

A calm voice came through the communicator—the person in charge of the detonation operation.

The atmosphere in the air shifted abruptly. In that moment, everyone cast aside their distracting thoughts, either standing guard by their instruments or taking up safe observation positions, gazing toward that towering, sky-obscuring wall in the distance.

"10, 9, 8..."

The countdown began over the communicator, giving personnel at all levels time to prepare. After all, this was no simple demolition—no one knew what would happen.

In the livestream room.

Viewership had already reached the millions, and the actual number of real-time viewers was probably in the tens of thousands.

And this was just a relatively unknown stream.

On other internet platforms, even more people were following this experiment through various channels.

"6, 5, 4..."

In front of his laptop, Lin Tuo fixed his gaze on the blurry patch of light and shadow.

"2, 1, 0... Ignite!"

The next second, the entire blockade zone was filled with nothing but a terrifying roar that rose from the flat ground. The explosives placed at various positions detonated simultaneously, kicking up a vast blaze of fire.

A tremendous blast of wind swept up a massive cloud of dust and rolled toward the observation area, sand flying everywhere, the sound shaking the land for a thousand miles!

In the livestream, the barrage of comments froze in that instant.

The streamer himself blurted out a curse, expressing his shock.

In the blurry image, a brilliant flash of fire appeared first, then an irregular mushroom cloud rose into the sky.

At the same time, Lin Tuo turned his head to look at the Sandbox on his left.

He saw that, at the moment of the explosion, at the edge of the Sandbox, somewhere on the massive Isolation Shield, ripples suddenly spread across a stretch of calm, deep blue sea.

Inside the Sandbox, somewhere in the boundless ocean beyond the continent, the tranquil sea surface suddenly boiled, stirring up waves and wind.

Then it gradually subsided.

Outside the Sandbox, Lin Tuo glanced at this small splash of water and revealed an expression of unsurprised expectation.

Not long after, the dust and smoke slowly dissipated.

Inside the blockade zone.

The many academicians and even more researchers silently stared at the screen, at the "Great Wall" standing intact amidst the haze, and fell into a collective silence.

And when this experimental result was relayed back and announced to the nations...

In that early morning, the entire world fell silent as well.