In 2077, New Chang’an has been reshaped by mechanical prosthetics and consciousness uploaded to the cloud, but this has also torn open a rift between reality and the uncanny. As whispers from the Cthulhu Mythos seep into quantum data streams, and cultivation realms are redefined as “computing power” and “mechanization rate,” Su Ming, deputy leader of the Spirit Realm Administration’s special operations team, faces the most divided fight for survival in history:
By day, he is a composed mechanical cultivator. His body-tempering-stage prosthetic joints gleam coldly, and while using nanobots to repair “ghost signals” in subway pipes, he might casually coat a rusty rebar with antimatter.
At night, he is a vessel for chaotic consciousness. The iris of his left eye takes on the pattern of an Old One’s tentacles, and he is forced to use pages from the Necronomicon as chips in Cthulhu dungeons, playing a deadly game of “sanity-value all-in” against the Starspawn.
It all began with the “Mass Disappearance of Digitized Spirit-Ascension Cultivators” three years ago, under a blood moon. When Su Ming triggers the entrance to a Cthulhu dungeon in an abandoned subway station, he discovers that his younger sister’s consciousness has been split into 128 data fragments, hidden in the acid-rain zone of “The Dunwich Horror,” the dark matter servers of the “Cyber-Cultivation Secret Realm,” and even the interstellar junk belt of the “Fourth Calamity Battlefield.”
His “Cthulhu Analysis System” is both salvation and curse:
✔ Sanity-value mechanic: Every time he gazes at an indescribable entity, permanent visual noise forms on his retina. Those whose sanity reaches zero become “indescribable.exe,” beings made of binary code;
✔ Whispers of the Old Ones: A text message at three in the morning might be a mission request from Cthulhu. Completing it can be exchanged for “
There are too many proper nouns and it's a bit hard to understand. The plot is okay.