"No matter the cost!"
For some reason, even though the heater was running in the room, the chief scholar still felt a sudden chill in his hands and feet when he heard this sentence.
"How do you plan to proceed?" he asked, his lips dry.
"To forge a superweapon of immense power—one that can blast open the Boundary!" the Emperor waved his hand. "Back in West Continent, I established a weapons research institute along with military factories. The firearms and artillery we developed were far superior to the old dynasty's.
I intend to elevate it into the West Continent Special Research Institute, gather a group of the brightest minds, and have them design the superweapon that will shatter a new world into existence. You… what do you think?"
"This…"
Even though the chief scholar had already guessed as much, hearing it out loud still shook him to the core.
To break open the Boundary!
What kind of mad ambition was this? In the days of the Chi Kingdom, ever since the discovery of the Boundary, successive emperors had sent expeditions and scholars to study it. But though they never ceased their exploration, none had ever ordered something so audacious.
Perhaps a few harbored the thought in private, but never dared to attempt it.
After all, it would be a project of astronomical cost, with a great likelihood of failure. What's more, the common people believed the Boundary to be the dwelling place of gods.
No emperor would risk such blasphemy.
But this new Emperor dared.
As for whether to accept… Whether as a scholar dedicated to science, or as the Emperor's trusted "favorite," there was hardly any choice.
"…As you command."
Bang!!
At the Lishan Martial Hall, inside his study.
With a click of his mouse, Lin Tuo heard the last gunshot echo through his headset.
On his monitor, the final enemy dropped dead neatly at the edge of the shrinking circle.
"Phew… could my improved physical condition actually be helping me game better?" Lin Tuo leaned back in his chair, slowly taking off the headset, murmuring.
Ever since starting work, he rarely played games anymore—perhaps one or two matches a month. His shooting skills had declined sharply.
Yet now, he had just won three matches in a row with ease.
Sure, some of it was because his account was in the lower ranks, a pool of casual players…
"No, it must be the Ether refining my body, improving my neural reflexes. My focus is sharper too."
Getting up, he went to the fridge in the next room, grabbed a can of cola. Just as he was about to open it, the alarm on his phone rang again.
"Time to harvest Ether again."
Eyes lighting up, Lin Tuo jogged back to the Sand Table.
Leaning over, he saw the continent's cities had grown larger, architectural styles subtly different.
Nighttime lights blazed. Electric trams ran in the streets, and besides bicycles, a few bulky cars had begun to appear—still rare and primitive, but a sign of progress.
"They're advancing fast…"
He sighed softly, then once again performed the Breath of Ether, drawing in a full tide of energy before eating a simple lunch and diving back into his game.
Within the Empire.
Ten years had passed since the founding of the New Dynasty.
While Kyoto and the other industrial cities changed daily, the Special Research Institute hidden deep in the mountains of West Continent appeared much the same.
Only a few new buildings had sprung up, a few more machines installed. The surrounding land remained desolate, wolves howling through the cold nights.
Only the endless streams of money pouring in from the imperial treasury revealed its significance.
"We are pioneers bearing the mission, enduring cold and loneliness," the chief scientist often told his colleagues to keep their spirits alive.
And indeed, under the Emperor's lavish funding and the momentum of the age, the superweapon project had progressed astonishingly smoothly.
Step by step, obstacles were overcome. The weapon evolved from a concept, to sketches on paper, to a real entity that had already undergone several small-scale tests.
The chief scholar was thrilled—at first. But the more their research advanced, the more they probed into the Boundary, the more doubt gnawed at him.
Could the Boundary truly be broken?
And so, one autumn, when the Emperor came once again to inspect the project, the scholar finally voiced his unease.
"So, what you're telling me is… the research has failed?"
In a chamber of the institute, the Emperor—now visibly aged—asked coldly.
Ten years had passed. Worry and toil had drained his vigor. His once black hair now streaked with white, his face etched with lines. Yet his authority, if anything, had only grown more terrifying.
At first, he had listened to his ministers. But as his reign tightened, he grew ever more autocratic, the court tense under his iron grip.
"No, Your Majesty. The research has been smooth. But the Boundary is far sturdier than we had imagined. Our initial plan—to shatter it with the shockwave of a super warhead—may not suffice."
The scholar trembled, hastily explaining.
"Not suffice?" The Emperor's eyes darkened. "There is nothing in this world that cannot be destroyed. If something resists, it only means the weapon is not strong enough, or the resolve not firm enough."
"Y-yes, I do not doubt Your Majesty's resolve. But as for weapon strength… we cannot increase it indefinitely. A single warhead has a ceiling—"
"If one isn't enough, then make more!" The Emperor's gaze burned. "If one won't break it, then build a thousand, ten thousand! If funds fall short, I'll wring them from the Empire!"
"It's not a matter of funding…" The scholar gave a bitter smile. "We've considered that too. In theory, yes, stacking explosions increases destructive force.
But past a certain threshold… the blast could devastate the continent's entire ecology. Or worse—it could destroy the world itself."
"Destroy the world?" The Emperor tasted the words. His aged face twisted strangely, eyes gleaming with madness, though his voice was eerily calm: "After this year, I'll be sixty."
"Ah?" The scholar blinked, stunned.
"The imperial physicians told me recently—a tumor in my brain. Surgery is too risky with today's medicine. I don't have much longer."
"Your Majesty… you mustn't—"
The Emperor raised a hand, silencing him.
"I've lived half my life on the battlefield, ruled as Emperor for ten years. By rights, I should be content. But I'm not. I cannot die without seeing what lies beyond the Boundary.
Do you recall what I told you that winter, ten years ago, when I first spoke of this project? I said: I will conquer it, no matter the cost."
"This…"
"Enough. Go now. Bring me all the core leaders of this project. I am convening a meeting."
"Yes…"
Dazed, uneasy, the scholar left and returned soon after with a dozen of the project's top figures. The rank-and-file researchers knew little of the true plan—only these leaders understood.
"Your Majesty, they are here," the scholar announced as they entered the meeting room.
The old Emperor sat at the head, back turned. Slowly, he rose, turning to face them.
In his right hand—no one knew when he had drawn it—gleamed a square, ancient seal, radiating with light.
"The Secret Seal?! Your Majesty…"
The chief scholar's face turned ashen, realization dawning.
And then, before his horrified eyes, the Emperor activated the Seal. Its hypnotic power flared forth.
Smiling, he said softly:
"Now… let us destroy the world together."
Gulp.
At the Lishan Martial Hall.
Lin Tuo had just finished his last game, stomach growling.
He hadn't eaten properly at noon, just snacked.
"It's this late already?" He glanced at the clock—dusk had fallen without him noticing.
"Entertainment really kills time…"
Closing his game, he turned off the computer, then checked the Sand Table. His brows lifted.
Aircraft. Crude, low-flying ones, but aircraft had appeared in the Empire.
"They're progressing even faster than I thought."
Switching the Sand Table to Observation Mode, he watched as light shifted, and Yang City replaced the New Dynasty before him.
"Been working nonstop… tonight I'll treat myself. Hotpot sounds good." His gaze lingered on a familiar restaurant he'd once visited.
Alone, eating hotpot was a little strange—but so be it.
Sliding his finger into a quiet corner of the Sand Table, he released his avatar. His real body slumped back in the chair, consciousness shifting into the clone.
Much easier than traveling two hours into the city. And if something "unexpected" happened, his real body stayed safe.
"Unexpected? What could possibly happen? It's not like another dynasty will fall while I eat dinner."
Stepping out of a quiet alley into Yang City, Lin Tuo chuckled to himself.
Whistling, he headed toward the hotpot shop:
"Didn't book a table… hope I can still get a seat."
Yang City remained calm.
But within the sealed Black Box of the Sand Table's Empire, deep in the West Continent…
A mad experiment—one that could destroy the world—was about to begin.
(End of Chapter)