Traveling Across Mars, All My Followers Are Bullies

I used the same tactics I used to lead the PUA on the Martian primitives. As a result, they rolled out interstellar civilization. My name is Tang Boping, a chemical engineering dog who was cheated to death by his idiot colleagues. He poured water into the concentrated sulfuric acid and blew me up on Mars. Now, I have become the only god of this group of primitive people dancing around the iron knot. It's also bound to a ghost system – the more they progress, the longer I'll live. Looking at these Martian natives who couldn't even count but were having fun every day, I realized: Isn't this the holy land I dream of lying down on? I decided to use my 985 chemical engineering expertise to put the brakes on their technology tree. But they treated every complaint I made as an oracle. When the people from the earth came in a spaceship, what they saw was: The Martian who cooks hotpot in a volcano but can rub a time machine with his hands, And me, who has been hanging on the edge of a black hole for five hundred years, but cannot even die because of the "Civilization Protection Agreement." Captain Earth shivered and asked, "What exactly did you teach them?" I looked at the group of Mars scroll kings who use black holes to generate electricity to roast sweet potatoes, use quantum entanglement to gossip, but insist on taking a three-hour lunch break. Crying like a three-million-ton child: "I only taught you how to fish!"