The moment he clicked the third option, a dialog box appeared before his eyes:
> Please proceed to the designated location to break through the world's barrier and begin interdimensional travel.
"…Huh?"
Future Skywhale blinked in confusion.
The internet instantly exploded. Everyone had been curious about the mysterious third option, but no one expected this.
> "Break through the world's barrier? Interdimensional travel?!"
> "Wait, what?! Does this mean… there's another world?!"
The sandbox's chatroom descended into chaos. Players with bizarrely evolved creatures were losing their minds with excitement.
Meanwhile, Future Skywhale guided his slime species toward the marked location, with other players lending support and cheering him on.
When they arrived, a swirling vortex appeared before them—a deep blue portal glittering with starlight.
> "Whoa… is that a portal?"
> "Is this a secret questline? A whole new map?"
What they were looking at wasn't just any portal—it was the ancient underground pipe Ethan had once used to enter the sandbox during the Age of the Three Witches, disguised then as the God of Wisdom. Until now, it had been hidden by the Tyranis Hive Mind, invisible to the players.
But now? It shone like a divine gateway.
With added special effects, of course.
> "New map unlocked!"
> "Wait—after creating a viable species, you can literally lead them to another world?!"
> "This game… it's insane."
To a chorus of gasps and wild forum posts, Future Skywhale stepped into the glowing portal with his tribe of Slimes.
---
Darkness. Silence.
They moved slowly through what seemed like an endless void—a cosmic tunnel connecting one world to another.
The pipe, which Ethan had buried long ago beneath the orchard soil, was only a few dozen meters long in reality. But to the ant-sized slimes? It was a vast, sacred pilgrimage.
"It's… so dark," Future Skywhale muttered.
The Slimes could barely move. With each bounce, they propelled their jelly-like bodies forward using their ahoge-like tentacles. It was a sight both ridiculous and weirdly heartwarming.
Eventually, a distant light began to glow.
As they emerged, a breathtaking vista unfolded before them.
Towering trees reached skyward like the pillars of an ancient temple. Their canopies cast cathedral-like shadows across the forest floor. Birds flew in flocks across a sapphire sky. Exotic plants shimmered with bioluminescent colors. The air was alive.
> [Warning: You are now considered a native of this world. Any trace of your origin will be erased.]
"…This place is beautiful," he whispered.
Future Skywhale and his Slimes bounced through the ancient forest, awestruck. "This isn't like our old world… this is a fully-developed ecosystem. Real, alive. I think… I think I really did travel to another world—with my species. And with my livestream system still intact?"
He couldn't help but think back to all the isekai novels he used to read.
---
Back in the real world…
Ethan lounged at the edge of his yard, casually munching an apple, legs crossed. "So that old pipe I buried finally came in handy."
Future Skywhale was beyond thrilled at his grand isekai debut—blissfully unaware he was just another pawn in the sandbox game of a mischievous creator god.
Ethan had anticipated this. He'd made sure to embed the cryptic third option—"Start a second life"—for moments just like this. But even he didn't expect someone to take the plunge so soon.
"Realistically, I can't carry every high-potential species into the sandbox myself," Ethan muttered. "It's not like I can just... throw them in like I did with the Phoenix or Pallbearer Chicken. I mean, I could, but a giant hand dropping Slimes from the sky would break immersion."
So, instead, he let the players do the heavy lifting.
With lifespans of only twenty or thirty years, most player-created species wouldn't have a long-lasting impact on the sandbox. But if they did make it to the top? That was just a bonus.
"In the large sandbox, a single day equals a hundred years. And the Hive Mind assured me that speeding up the players' brains wouldn't hurt their souls."
Meaning, players could live full lifetimes in just a few hours of real time.
But Ethan frowned slightly. "Still… how do I make sure Future Skywhale sides with the orthodox witches and not those twisted Rose Sect degenerates?"
He hadn't yet figured that part out.
But just then, as he watched the sandbox, Ethan's expression turned baffled.
"…Never mind," he said, blinking.
Turns out, Future Skywhale had already developed a personal vendetta against the evil witches.
Back in the magical forest...
The forest was dreamlike, glittering with impossible colors and fluttering butterfly-like creatures. A true alien Eden.
Future Skywhale scouted cautiously for a while before attempting to start a livestream.
[Error: Due to time dilation, livestream is unavailable. One day here equals 100 years outside.]
"…Wait. What?!"
He froze.
Did that mean… a hundred years in-game would pass in a single real-world day?
A chilling thought crept into his mind.
"No way. That's impossible!"
He immediately exited the game and yanked off his VR headset.
In the real world? Less than ten seconds had passed.
He'd already lived for hours in that other world… and everyone online was still buzzing about him entering the portal.
"…Terrifying," he muttered.
And he wasted no time diving right back in.
Every minute spent outside was days of lost time in the sandbox. What if his Slimes died while he was gone? What if he died?
This wasn't just a game anymore.
"This really is a second life…"
His Slime species had lifespans of barely over a decade—like living engines. But that was still ten years of bonus life. And he intended to enjoy every second.
> "This game is too damn good!"
Guiding his Slimes deeper into the forest, Future Skywhale was already planning ahead. "There have to be intelligent species here. My Slimes might be weak now—but under my leadership, we'll rise to the top. Maybe… maybe I can even find a way to extend my life here."
They weren't just squishy blobs to him.
They were engines.
And with a proper engine? You could build anything.
---
After half a day's journey, they reached the forest's edge.
Then came voices—soft, musical, and feminine.
> "People!"
He froze.
Were they hostile? Friendly? Was this a safe zone or the start of a war?
He ducked into the Slime crowd to hide. "Better act like a dumb mob creature for now…"
From the trees emerged a group of women in flowing rose-red robes, carrying slender wooden staves. Their beauty was matched only by their mysterious aura.
"Whoa… what is that thing?" one of them gasped. "It's adorable!"
"Awwww… look at that little tentacle on its head!"
"They look like baby Evil Eyes…"
These witches belonged to the Rose Sect—the darker, seductive counterpart to the orthodox mages.
In their ranks, familiars were everything.
And their favorite? The Evil Eye. A companion and tool for magic—and... for other "enhanced" methods of cultivation.
Ordinary men couldn't withstand them, mentally or physically. Only familiars like the Evil Eye could survive their rituals of power.
"I wish we had a male mage who didn't die halfway through training," one muttered. "They're reserved for high-level witches. We're stuck with familiars."
"But these Slimes! They're so cute and bouncy. Why not replace the old creepy Evil Eyes with these guys?"
The witches began circling the Slimes, cooing and chattering with gleeful innocence.
From his hiding spot, Future Skywhale watched, stunned.
"They… they like us?"
He didn't understand their language, but the tone was clear. They weren't hostile.
Still… something about their giddy enthusiasm was a little unsettling.
"I mean… this is fine, right?"
Right?