Dreamweaver: From the Start, the Team Disbands

If a brain-computer interface could let people enter perfect dreams, what would you do with it?

Liang Guanghua's answer was simple: heal those trapped by insomnia and trauma.

Two years ago, he and his close friends Weiming Guang and Meng Yao founded Dreamweave Studio. They squeezed into a dark, damp basement in Beijing, staking their youth on a single conviction: use technology to give the desperate a good dream.

But the 439th test failed, too.

Their bank account held 874 yuan. Rent was seven days overdue. Weiming Guang couldn't hold on any longer and chose to leave.

The team fell apart. The dream died.

Then, late one night, just as Liang Guanghua was utterly despairing, an unfamiliar private message lit up his screen:

"Can your Dreamweave really let me see my dead daughter again?"

Moments later, an anonymous email arrived. Attached was the core algorithm they'd spent two years desperately seeking, but never found.

The sender's codename: Ferryman.

Who was he? Why was he helping them?

Following the trail in the code to Boston, Liang Guanghua and Meng Yao uncovered a name the entire world had forgotten: Fang Mingyuan, once the world's leading brain-computer interface scientist. Five years ago, a mysterious accident left him mentally unstable, and he vanished from the world.

A madman who had spent two years trapped in his own nightmares, afraid to close his eyes, was showing the way to those on the shore.

What Liang Guanghua didn't know was that behind this technology lurked a dark secret capable of overturning the very foundations of human morality...