Dongcheng was a massive metropolis.
Felix wandered its crowded streets with Ellie for most of the afternoon, drifting from store to store without any real urgency. Eventually, they entered a large shopping mall, where Felix went on a rare spending spree.
Washing machine.
Microwave.
Refrigerator.
And a long list of smaller household items.
He planned to completely overhaul his old, run-down house and turn it into something resembling a modern home.
The shopkeeper was ecstatic.
In an era where most people shopped online, customers like Felix—who bought everything in one go—were rare.
"We'll arrange delivery right away!" the man promised enthusiastically.
Truthfully, Felix usually preferred online shopping. Performance specs were standardized, and he only cared about aesthetics—whether things matched, how much space they took up, how clean the layout felt.
After that, he had Ellie take him to several hardware stores.
A high-pressure water gun.
An electric drill.
A chainsaw.
Sprinklers.
Various farming tools.
"Don't worry! We'll deliver everything for free!" another shopkeeper said, beaming.
By the time Felix finished shopping, he'd spent seventy to eighty thousand yuan. Only eleven thousand remained in his account.
He didn't care.
Budgeting felt like a problem for another life.
On the ride back, Felix sat at the front of the scooter while Ellie perched behind him.
Suddenly—
tug.
"Ow—what are you doing?!" Felix yelped, nearly tearing up.
Ellie stared at the strand of hair she'd yanked free, eyes wide. "Whoa… it's so tough! I had to pull really hard!"
She tossed it away like it was evidence.
"What did you do to your hair?"
Felix rubbed his scalp, his expression dark.
Why is she so obsessed with my hair? Am I not allowed to have hair now?
"I already told you," he said irritably. "It's because of chemotherapy. The side effects wore off. I wasn't born bald."
"Really?" Ellie stared at him suspiciously.
"Really."
He sounded deadly serious.
"But it's still… a lot," she muttered.
She'd been bringing him food for days now. The changes were obvious—his hair had grown back thick and black, his body looked healthier, and even his complexion had improved.
Something felt… off.
"You're overthinking it," Felix said, steering the scooter along the country road. "I'm not explaining anymore."
They passed through neat farmland. The scooter rattled over dirt paths, dodging the occasional pile of cow dung—something Felix didn't particularly care about, since it wasn't his scooter.
Elderly villagers waved as they passed.
"Oh? You two went into town?" someone called.
"Young people should get out more!"
"This village is all old folks now! You're the only young ones left!"
Felix smiled and waved back. "Hello, Auntie Li. Uncle Zhang. I just took Ellie to buy some household things."
The sun dipped below the horizon.
By the time they reached home, it was past six. Stars gradually emerged in the sky—clear, brilliant, countless. The countryside night was nothing like the city's light-polluted haze.
Felix looked up instinctively.
Even in the sandbox world—with its fifty-year-long nights—the stars, moon, and sky were still there.
"How small is our world?" he murmured.
"To them, two hundred years and five generations have passed. For me… it's been two days and a shopping trip."
He chuckled softly and waved goodbye to Ellie.
Just as he turned toward the yard—
The Hive Mind spoke.
"Gilgamesh is about to die of old age."
Felix froze. "Tonight? That fast?"
He stopped in the yard, took out a knife, and began peeling an orange. The peel spiraled neatly—until the blade snapped.
"…Too bad," Felix muttered.
He scratched his head and stood.
That tiny Bugape—who once could only shout "Baldy! Baldy!"—had lived an entire life. Written an epic. Built civilization.
Felix couldn't help but admire it.
"I only gave them the basics," he said quietly. "And one of them still became a king."
Gilgamesh had been cruel. Ruthless.
But undeniably great.
"The Bugapes have flourished," Felix continued. "But they're also destroying everything."
If left alone, they would wipe out entire ecosystems. Wage endless wars. Reduce the sandbox to a single dominant species.
"That won't do."
He sighed.
Even if he couldn't change Gilgamesh's fate… visiting an old acquaintance felt appropriate.
"Slow down their time flow," Felix ordered. "Restore it to normal."
He slipped on his blue boot covers.
Then stepped into the sandbox.
Step.
Step.
Step.
The earth trembled.
Mountains cracked. Rivers surged. Forests shook. Vast footprints carved new valleys as beasts fled in terror.
"What's happening?!"
"Is the city collapsing?!"
Uruk trembled.
Streets shook. Walls rattled. Buildings swayed.
The people looked up in horror.
Gilgamesh—now frail, aged, near death—led his ministers and knelt.
Tears streamed down his face as childlike joy bloomed within it.
"After two hundred years…" he cried, voice trembling.
"The sentient titan I met in my youth has returned!
The Great Beast of Wisdom—who bestowed upon me the Three Treasures of Civilization—has come back!"
Felix gazed down at Uruk.
To him, the city housing millions was barely larger than a dinner plate.
Impressive… yet fragile.
"They don't understand cement," Felix thought calmly.
"Their foundations are weak."
He walked toward the ancient temple.
Before him stood a pale, handsome old man, clutching the Sword of Damocles, tears soaking his face as he stared upward—waiting.
An old king.
Awaiting his god.