The black notebook didn't have much written in it—but what was written was enough to send shivers down their spines. This game wasn't just about evolving from spores. It was something far, far bigger.
They had uncovered only the tip of the iceberg.
"This is insane! I can't praise this game enough!"
"I thought the weak point would be its story, but this lore is nuts!"
"Shut up! Time's almost up—close the notebook! The boss is coming! Focus on the kill first, we can analyze this later!"
Someone shouted in a panic as, in the distance, a colossal ten-thousand-foot giant began to approach.
---
Meanwhile, outside the sandbox...
Ethan returned with his lunchbox, unaware that while he was comforting Mia and sorting out their long-distance relationship, a group of overly enthusiastic micro-players had taken the liberty of snooping through his experimental log. They thought it was a hidden storyline—some kind of developer-planted quest—and were now scrambling to put together what they believed was the "true lore" of the game.
"I've done my duty as a boyfriend. Now it's time to test this new species… and settle the score with Akina's Speedster."
Ethan strolled back toward the sandbox. The tiny world was unnaturally quiet—too quiet. There was no usual stampede of strange creatures at the sight of the giant. Instead, all the bugs had gone suspiciously still.
They were hiding behind the giant chair.
Plotting.
He didn't mind. He was curious, actually—he wanted to see what their grand "kill-the-giant" plan looked like.
He sat down calmly, unwrapped his lunch, and took a look.
Stir-fried greens, carrots, and golden, fluffy eggs. Simple but hearty. He was just about to dig in when—
Sting!
A sharp pinch shot through his arm. He looked down. A group of misshapen bugs was biting him. It felt like getting mobbed by angry mosquitoes.
"Oh? A diversion?" Ethan smirked, instantly grasping their strategy. Distract him with bites—meanwhile, the real threat, the highly toxic species, would sneak into his lunchbox.
Classic MMO boss tactics.
"They lowered their pain settings, sacrificed themselves to create a window for Akina's Speedster to pull off the poisoning," Ethan chuckled. "Smart… but not smart enough."
His eyes narrowed devilishly. "Hive Mind—raise their pain sensitivity to 50%."
100% would make them feel real, full-body agony—too cruel, even for him. But 50%? That was just enough to make them wish they hadn't tried.
SLAP!
A crimson smear appeared where one of the bugs had been.
"AAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!"
The player's scream rang out like a tortured banshee. He immediately logged off, gasping and drenched in sweat.
"Didn't I set my pain to zero?! What happened?!" he wheezed, his body twitching from the phantom trauma.
The others still in the game had no idea. They all assumed he was just really committed to the bit.
"Damn! That was the most realistic scream I've ever heard!"
"He nailed that death animation. 10/10 performance."
"Next one up! I'll make my death even more tragic!" another player declared proudly.
"You've got this, bro. We're counting on your sacrifice to tank aggro!"
Pumped up by the crowd, the next player crawled out, turned his pain setting all the way down, and bravely crept up Ethan's arm.
SMACK!
"AIIIIIIIIEEE!!"
Another blood-curdling scream.
More dramatic than the first.
He sounded like he'd just been hit by a truck full of boiling chili oil and regrets.
"Wow! That guy out-acted the last one!"
"I felt that scream in my soul."
The third "hero" emerged, chest puffed. "Don't worry, comrades. I won't scream. I'll show you how a real tough guy dies."
He too crept up Ethan's arm.
SMACK!
"UWAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!"
Even worse than the last two.
It sounded like he'd stepped on a Lego the size of a house after getting dumped and failing a final exam.
"Bro… that's not tough. That's traumatic."
"Is this reverse psychology acting or what?"
Undeterred, the cycle continued.
Each new player stepped up, swearing they wouldn't scream.
SLAP!
"GAAAAAAHHHH!!!"
SPLAT!
"MAKE IT STOOOOP!!"
BOOM!
"TELL MY FAMILY I LOVE THEM!!!"
Ethan calmly ate his food, wiping his mouth between bites. This was better than lunchtime TV.
Meanwhile, the players watching all this unfold were in awe.
"These guys are Oscar material!"
"If they weren't gamers, they could have been Hollywood legends."
At this point, it was practically a stage play.
But through all the chaos and pain, the real plan was unfolding: while Ethan swatted bug after bug, the Pallbearer Chicken had begun its climb.
Like a little crimson phoenix, it sneaked up his pant leg, inching toward the lunchbox.
"We've almost done it!"
"Distract him with more aggro! We need 30 more seconds!"
Yet another brave soul stepped up. "This time, I swear—no screams. Even if I die, I'll die silent."
SLAP!
"AAAAAAAAAARGHHHHHHH!!!!"
Everyone stared.
"…Bro?"
"I thought you said you were gonna be stoic?"
"That wasn't stoic. That was a Greek tragedy."
As they shook their heads, a new figure stepped forward—Future Skywhale, a veteran known for his calm demeanor and strategic mind.
"My friends," he said, his five deformed limbs spread wide, "my prince shall not die in vain. I shall embody the will of a true warrior."
They all fell silent. This was it. The real deal.
Future Skywhale slowly climbed the arm of the giant. The world seemed to hold its breath.
SLAP!
"WAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!"
The scream echoed through heaven and earth like the dying roar of a tortured banshee elephant.
Everyone blinked.
"…That… that was the worst scream yet."
"I felt my spine shiver."
"…This guy just broke the sound barrier."
Then they burst out laughing.
"He's always so serious—I didn't think he had it in him!"
"I'm dying over here! These people missed their calling. Put them on a movie set, and we'll have a new blockbuster series!"
"Forget evolving. I'm just here for the screams now."