This destructive experiment, though not officially broadcast, took place outdoors under the current global spotlight. Inevitably, the results soon leaked through various channels.
Without a doubt, for some time to come, it would be the hottest topic on the internet.
Yet compared to the researchers beneath the "Grand Wall," Lin Tuo remained far calmer.
"As expected… With the civilization level of the Evolution Sand Table, the barrier it created is something Earth's current technology cannot possibly shake."
Leaning back in his chair, his eyes slightly weary as he glanced at the noisy livestream, Lin Tuo quietly reflected.
The outcome hadn't surprised him.
Of course, the ripples from the explosion showed that external force wasn't entirely excluded from the sandbox world. The barrier wasn't absolute.
If the firepower had been pushed further, perhaps the ripples inside the sand table might have grown larger. But Lin Tuo suspected that after today, the research team would be much more cautious.
"Phew. Had me nervous for nothing. Sleep."
Relaxing completely, Lin Tuo yawned, silenced his phone by habit, then rose and headed to the bedroom. Drawing the curtains, he soon drifted into slumber.
He needed to catch up on rest.
Yet just as Lin Tuo slept, the phone on his desk lit up with notifications from a group chat.
Unsurprisingly, the topic was the explosion.
Since the experiment had only just taken place, results weren't yet widely known, so most people were still making wild guesses.
But amid the chatter, one lurker suddenly dropped a link and shouted in the group:
"Stop talking about that—check this video I just found! Absolutely insane!"
"What now?" someone asked.
"Just watch, trust me!"
"Insane? Uh… won't the group get shut down for this?"
"?"
Yang City, a residential complex.
Wearing pajamas, Zhou Mo quietly closed the livestream of the "explosion test," looking slightly uneasy.
"Wonder if it actually broke through…"
Shaking her head, she pushed away the thought, moved her mouse, and opened the nation's largest video platform.
Not expecting much, she logged into her account.
Over a week ago, while returning to Yang City with her best friend, she had accidentally captured something extraordinary: a man descending from the sky, and later—an unbelievable scene.
In the remote Taihe Mountain range, on an abandoned, steep mountain path, a mysterious figure carried a boulder from the base to the peak in one continuous stretch.
The recording lasted nearly an hour.
It was a feat far beyond human limits. Astonished, she had cut the raw 58-minute 21-second video into a simpler version with captions and uploaded it.
She thought it would go viral. Instead, it sank like a stone.
Barely two hundred views after a week. A handful of worthless comments.
Not surprising—she wasn't an influencer or a famous creator, just an ordinary account. Of course it would disappear into the void.
The first few days she checked obsessively, then it became routine—just a glance each day.
But today, when she logged in, she froze.
Her inbox was flooded—99+ new messages, all from the past few minutes.
Every single one asking about the video's authenticity and location.
"This… could it be…" Zhou Mo sat stunned, brain lagging behind.
Several seconds later, she bolted upright, clicked into the dashboard, and saw the number: over three million views on the "Taihe Mountain Mysterious Man" video!
Refreshing, it jumped by tens of thousands more!
Comments and bullet screens were exploding.
Am I dreaming?
Half in disbelief, she pinched her thigh—then her eyes lit up with excitement.
"It's real! I've gone viral!"
In pajamas, the young woman cheered ungracefully, then opened the video playback while also spamming her best friend:
"Shanshan! You awake? Check my video! I told you it would blow up!"
Meanwhile, in Lin Tuo's old company's off-work chat group—
Curious members clicked the shared link, only to find something very different from what they'd imagined.
The video title was blunt:
"Caught on Camera: Taihe Mountain's Mysterious Powerhouse! If you don't say WTF, I'll lose!"
Opening it revealed a flood of bullet comments:
"Preemptive WTF.""You're definitely losing this bet.""What the heck am I even watching?""Uh…"
The video showed mountain scenery, filmed shakily with a phone from a roadside. The zoom function was obvious.
Two girls' voices could be heard:
"Okay okay, I believe you… This world's gone crazy anyway, yesterday—"
"Ah! Look! There!"
"No way… is that a superhuman?!"
To preserve authenticity, Zhou Mo had left the footage nearly uncut, including their dialogue. It lent rawness and realism.
As the camera zoomed, an ancient, abandoned stone stairway appeared, climbing steeply toward the summit.
And there—
A lone figure, carrying a massive boulder on his back, climbing step by step.
The distance blurred the details, and his face was covered by something, but his movements radiated rhythm and ease.
This wasn't struggling—it was effortless.
He bore the weight as though gravity itself bent to him. Every step was steady, unhurried, smooth. There was beauty in the motion.
If one looked closely, the figure seemed to exude a faint, unearthly aura.
Yes—an aura of the immortal.
As though this wasn't a man, but a reclusive master of legend.
No—if such power truly existed, then he was no myth. He was real.
The bullet screen erupted in unison:
"WTF""WTF""WTF"
Some in jest, some in shock.
"Skip through—there's a surprise!"
And when viewers discovered the video lasted an hour and that the man never stopped climbing, shock turned into awe.
That mountain road alone was brutal for any normal climber. To carry a boulder like that? Impossible.
Was this human?
Fake, surely?
The comments split.
"Absolute fake! Human bodies can't withstand that. Impossible. Still, gotta admit—the editing is flawless, no visible tampering."
Others countered:
"I don't think it's CGI. The shaky, crude camerawork feels authentic. Could be a trick of perspective though—the mountain's not that steep, the boulder might be a prop."
Still others argued passionately:
"No, this is martial training! Ancient masters were said to perform feats beyond imagination! Zhang Sanfeng was recorded to have lived over two hundred years—was that fake too?"
The thread erupted into debate.
Another voice chimed in:
"I'm not saying I believe in 'ancient martial arts,' but note this: the video was uploaded the day after the Tuck Black Box incident. The girls' conversation confirms the timing.
Before, I'd never believe humans could do this. But now? After today's Grand Wall explosion test, where an entire city block's worth of firepower failed to leave a scratch?
The world might really be changing.
If the uploader sees this, can you confirm the exact location? I live not far from Taihe Mountain. I want to see this mysterious martial artist for myself."
This comment was pinned, and Zhou Mo herself replied below:
"I understand the doubts, but I can only say this video is absolutely real. For those asking, here's the location…"
The comment quickly hit hundreds of likes, then surged toward a thousand.
Though the video went viral, compared to the global headlines about the explosion test, its influence was limited.
Normally, it might have dominated attention. But with every media outlet fixated on the Tuck Black Box and the Grand Wall, Zhou Mo's video became overshadowed.
Hotspots can't coexist.
Still—
Because she had revealed the location, the video spread like wildfire in Yang City and the Taihe Mountain region.
Especially Yang City.
Locals cared far more, and so in group chats across the city, the clip was spreading at insane speed.
By the time Lin Tuo finally woke up, well-rested, hair tousled, he stepped into his study, grabbed his phone, and opened his chat app—
Only to stare blankly at the flood of links and messages.
"I just slept a few hours… so what the hell happened while I was out?!"
(End of Chapter)