Learning make me happy,not me°__°
The game had become an internet sensation.
Even industry giants in the online gaming world had taken notice, watching with sharp eyes and hushed speculation. They were convinced that Spore Evolution must be backed by an elite, possibly world-class development team. After all, this so-called "game" delivered a fully immersive experience—perfectly simulating all five senses. It wasn't just a game anymore. It was a second life.
And the tech behind it? Utterly unreal.
Just judging by the hyper-realistic graphics and physics engine, analysts estimated the backend required an obscene level of computational power. Some theorized it would take several supercomputers just to maintain the world and calculate the infinite branches of evolution in real time.
Professional assessments from within the gaming industry soon followed. Their conclusion: for a server of only 100 players, three full-scale supercomputers were required to simulate the level of realism being shown.
That meant one supercomputer for every thirty people.
At current technological standards, a single supercomputer cost upwards of 20 million dollars. Even the largest mainstream MMOs couldn't afford this level of luxury—one supercomputer could normally handle multiple games at once.
Yet here was Spore Evolution—a game that supported only a hundred users—reportedly burning through over 60 million dollars worth of infrastructure.
On a per-player basis, that meant each person was using 600,000 dollars worth of computing power—half the power allocation of an entire AAA game's server.
It was absurd.
Naturally, everyone assumed the game would begin charging soon. After all, no sane developer would run a project like this without turning a profit.
People speculated that Spore Evolution would become a luxury title—an elite club for the ultra-rich. Rumors flew: a 50,000 yuan monthly subscription fee, minimum. A drop in the bucket for whales used to spending hundreds of thousands in online games, but completely out of reach for average gamers.
But then something unexpected happened.
Instead of monetizing the game, the developers opened another 50 beta testing slots—the equivalent of adding two more supercomputers, and burning through an extra 40 million yuan.
It was pure insanity.
And yet... it was also inspiring.
Spore Evolution had become the stuff of legend among free-to-play gamers. It wasn't just generous—it was downright saintly. But with the posting of the update log, one thing became clear: this game wasn't just generous. It was also brutally hardcore.
Not long after, a new post on the forums went viral:
---
[Akinas Speedster]
"Hey everyone, it's me again! Don't ask how I'm always first—I'm Akinas Speedster! Let's break down the latest update. This might just be the most hardcore patch in gaming history."
1. First off—new beta slots.
The developer is out of their mind generous. Experts estimate each player costs the game 600,000 yuan in processing power. That's not a game charging you—that's a game paying to let you play. How can I not love this?
2. Entry test: Write a thesis.
Yes, you heard right. If you want a beta slot, you have to write an actual academic essay on evolutionary theory. You need to explain what species you'll evolve and why it's scientifically viable. Are you kidding me, dev? Did you make this game to reform our nation's education system!?
3. Elimination system.
This one has us testers sweating bullets. The bottom 20 players will be kicked out after each cycle. If you want to stay in, you'd better start studying. This game really said: "Get good—or get out."
4. Achievement system.
No one knows what the rewards are yet, but with how insane this dev is, it's bound to be something amazing. I'm already dreaming of being immortalized as the father of an epic species!
That's it from me today. Time to hit the books and grind like hell. I'm not giving up my beta slot. Not now. Not ever."
---
The internet exploded.
What caught the most attention wasn't the computing power or the server limits—it was the thesis.
Some were thrilled. Others despaired. But no one complained.
After all, this wasn't just a game. Each account represented hundreds of thousands in backend costs. Asking for a little effort? That was a bargain.
"Studying makes me happy!"
"My mom always said hard work would pay off. Turns out she meant in video games."
Diehard gamers began flocking to libraries, scouring academic books and papers on evolutionary biology. From the Cambrian explosion to the Cretaceous extinction, they immersed themselves in the story of life.
Even those uninterested in the game began trying to earn accounts to sell them on the black market.
"I'll just hire someone to write the essay for me. Plagiarizing won't cut it—I'll drop 10,000 yuan on a real university tutor to write it right."
"10,000 yuan? Buddy, those slots are going for 100,000 now. The rich don't care. They'll spend millions just to evolve a crab with laser eyes."
Libraries across the nation reported surges in traffic. Dusty textbooks on natural history flew off the shelves. Evolutionary theory became a viral subject.
Even local news stations caught on.
Confused experts tried to explain the phenomenon:
"Citizens have begun pursuing spiritual growth through intellectual study. It's a beautiful cultural shift—though we're not sure why it's focused on evolution."
Then they learned the truth.
All of it… was for a video game.
Academics were stunned.
"These people are insane."
Spore Evolution had flipped the narrative. Once maligned as brainless entertainment, now gaming had somehow made education the entry fee.
"It's a good game," many parents said approvingly.
Even professional gold-farming workshops paused their mouse-clicking grind and started studying evolutionary biology. They weren't just farming in-game currency now—they were farming knowledge.
---
Ethan watched all of it unfold with calm detachment.
He hadn't expected this level of hype.
But the next morning, his inbox proved just how far things had gone.
Over a thousand essays.
The flood of submissions nearly crashed his system. Players had gone all-in, crafting detailed blueprints for imagined species, citing real-world scientific literature and evolutionary models. They had one simple request:
"Dear mighty game developer, I've mapped out my species. I've studied the laws of nature. I'm ready to evolve. All I need is a single spore. Please, let me in."
Ethan smiled.
They were ready.