My name is Wang Lang, an utterly ordinary construction worker whose lifelong dream is to pave the whole world with reinforced concrete. Then I accidentally summoned an indescribable mass of flesh. My coworkers call it an “Elder God.” It whispers that it will devour my sanity and return the world to chaos.
I looked at its body, constantly oozing slime and in serious violation of construction regulations. Then I looked at the project plans in my hand and the can of premium concrete I had just opened.
So I made a decision that would disgrace my ancestors: I plastered it over.
Now this being, the very embodiment of cosmic horror, has become the most troublesome “project under construction” on my hands. Every day, I have to argue not only with the site inspector, but with it too:
“The main structure can’t just sprout tentacles wherever it likes. It’ll throw off the vertical alignment!”
“Corrosive secretions are prohibited during curing. You’re cutting corners on materials!”
“And get all your minions over here to pour concrete. The schedule is tight, the workload is heavy. Don’t talk to me about the Call of Cthulhu!”
Watching the Old God tremble with its mouth plastered shut, I contentedly signed off on the inspection form.
