Hello, Senior Sister

The resentful ghosts are scattered, and the wandering ghosts are haunted by dreams. We cannot help but ask a question that touches the soul, where does the soul come from? Where are you going again? Hello, senior sister, this summer is particularly boring. The master took over a job to formulate standards for the input and output interfaces of human-machine souls, and most of them were left to me. You know that my soul has a sense of smell. When it enters stone, it smells the smell of sulfur; when it enters organic compounds, it smells stink; when it enters metal, it smells the smell of rust... This novel and its characters are purely fictitious. Any similarity is purely coincidental and should not be imitated.