223: Non-existent categories

Magic City, Lujiazui.

At 4:30 AM, even this Eastern financial beast had temporarily retracted its fangs.

The top-floor luxury penthouse of a certain high-end residential complex.

Hong Hu, the Editor-in-Chief of Hong Guo Net, buried her head into a silk pillow; this was the first time her head had touched a bed in three days.

The blackout curtains in the master bedroom tightly blocked out the city's light pollution.

The climate control system operated silently, and even the air seemed to be cautiously protecting this powerful woman's sleep.

She had been asleep for less than two hours when her private phone on the bedside table suddenly emitted a buzz.

"Buzz— Buzz—"

Hong Hu's brow furrowed tightly. With a bit of morning grumpiness, she irritably reached out to grope for the phone.

There were only two scenarios where someone would dare disturb her sleep at this hour:

Either the server had exploded, or the company had gone bankrupt.

Squinting her eyes, her finger swiped across the screen.

However, when that pitch-black penguin avatar and the remark ID entered her vision,

Hong Hu's remaining trace of sleepiness evaporated instantly.

【Dream Weaver】.

Hong Hu bolted upright in bed, not even bothering to fix her silk nightgown as it slipped off her shoulder.

She cleared her throat, took a deep breath,

And adjusted her voice to its most professional tone before pressing the answer button.

"Dream Weaver Teacher?"

"Sorry, Editor-in-Chief Hong Hu, I've disturbed you."

The voice coming from the receiver had been processed through a voice changer, resulting in a deep, metallic electronic tone.

One couldn't tell if it was male or female, let alone detect any emotion.

"There's an urgent matter; something went wrong with the backend system."

Hong Hu's heart skipped a beat.

A problem with the backend? That was a serious matter!

"Please, go on."

Hong Hu immediately threw off the covers and got out of bed, her bare feet stepping onto the carpet as she reached for the tablet on the desk.

"I've finished writing the first ten chapters of my new book and was preparing to upload them."

The electronic voice on the other end paused, sounding somewhat helpless:

"But when selecting the work's classification, the system prompted that the genre is unrecognizable and determined that there's an unknown error in the content, prohibiting the creation and upload."

Hong Hu was stunned.

The hand holding the phone froze in mid-air, her mind feeling as if three thunderclaps had just exploded.

First, this big shot had actually finished writing a new book without a word?

Second, it was 4:30 AM; didn't he need to sleep?

Third, and most ridiculous of all, Hong Guo Net's genre database covered twelve major categories and eighty-six subcategories.

What on earth did he write that could make the 'all-encompassing' intelligent classification system directly report an error?

...Rewinding time to ten minutes ago.

Jiangcheng, SOHO Future City Studio.

Heavy blackout curtains firmly blocked the pre-dawn glimmer outside the window.

In the studio, only the eerie blue light of the monitor reflected onto Lin Que's calm face.

Just moments ago, he had dragged the document containing the first ten chapters of the cthulhu mythos—totaling twenty thousand words—into the writer's backend of Hong Guo Net.

Title, synopsis, cover—everything was ready.

However, the very moment he clicked "Confirm Publication,"

A jarring red exclamation mark dialog box suddenly popped up in the center of the screen.

【Warning: Logic Verification Failed (Error: 3).】

【Detected non-linear narrative and biological characteristic descriptions that violate the laws of physics.】

【Existing database cannot match the entropy value of this text.】

【Determination: Genre matching failed, entry into database prohibited.】

Lin Que looked at the screen and helplessly rubbed the bridge of his nose.

He had forgotten.

This world's technology was highly advanced, advocating absolute rationality and physical rules.

People were used to black-and-white, cause-and-effect logical chains.

And what was the core of the cthulhu mythos?

It was the indescribable.

It was chaos.

It was an ultimate madness that transcended human cognition and lacked all logic.

To the algorithms of this world, this inability to be defined was itself a kind of virus.

"It seems I'll have to clear the path manually."

Lin Que sighed and picked up his phone... Returning to Magic City.

After hearing Lin Que's description, Hong Hu was in a state of extreme shock.

"Genre matching failed..."

She murmured to herself, her expression shifting from shock to fanaticism.

As a veteran editor, she knew all too well what this meant.

In this web novel circle plagued by severe homogenization, a work that could make the algorithm "crash" was absolutely groundbreaking!

"Dream Weaver Teacher, please wait a moment."

Hong Hu made a split-second decision, her voice carrying a decisive chill:

"I'll contact the Technical Director right now. Since the system doesn't have this classification, we'll create one for you!"

After hanging up, Hong Hu didn't hesitate and directly dialed the Technical Director's private number.

The phone rang for a full forty seconds before being answered.

"Hello... President Red..."

Old Zhang's voice was slurred; he was clearly still dreaming.

"Old Zhang, wake up! Stop sleeping!"

Hong Hu's voice rose an octave:

"Immediately have the colleagues on duty today open the server backend!"

"What... what happened?" Old Zhang asked, startled awake.

"It's more important than the server exploding."

Hong Hu spoke rapidly:

"Dream Weaver wants to publish a new book, and the system can't recognize his genre.

Right now, immediately create a new independent section!"

"Huh? Create a new section?"

"Isn't Dream Weaver in the Mystery section?"

"No!"

Hong Hu was adamant:

"He said it's something entirely new. The name is... wait."

She glanced at the note she'd made during the call and took a deep breath:

"Section name: Cthulhu."

"Cthu... what?"

Old Zhang clearly hadn't heard the word before.

"Don't ask, I've sent the characters to you!"

"President Red, you're not joking, right? Create a new base classification? That's equivalent to re-laying the foundation of a skyscraper!"

Old Zhang's voice was shaking.

"Highest priority. It must be done."

Hong Hu's voice was firm.

"...Fine, give me two hours. I'll go over personally and type in the code."

Two hours?

Hong Hu glanced at the time.

She immediately called Lin Que back.

"Dream Weaver Teacher, the section is already being built, but the technical side needs two hours to sync the data."

Hong Hu's tone was sincere, even carrying a hint of caution:

"If you don't mind, you can send the manuscript to my encrypted email first.

I'll use the Editor-in-Chief's channel to enter it for you directly from the backend database."

The other end of the phone was silent for a few seconds.

Lin Que looked out the window.

The horizon was already turning white.

"Very well."

"Then I'll trouble you."

The electronic voice replied without any inflection.

"Ding."

In less than a minute, Hong Hu's email notification sounded.

An email from 【Hell Dream Weaver】 lay quietly at the top of her inbox.

Hong Hu hung up the phone; she was now completely wide awake.

She went to her study and turned on her expensive desktop computer.

The screen's light reflected her elegant but makeup-free face.

She casually tied her long hair back and brewed a cup of extra-strong black coffee.

Steam rose as the bitter aroma filled the air.

Hong Hu carried the coffee cup back to the computer and took a deep breath, as if performing some sacred ritual.

"Let me see what this fear that even the system can't recognize actually looks like."

She moved the mouse, clicked the attachment, downloaded, and opened it.

The moment the document popped up, the screen seemed to dim slightly.

There was no fancy formatting; dense Song-style characters were packed together,

Looking less like a modern novel and more like a rubbing of some ancient curse salvaged from the deep sea.

Hong Hu's gaze fell upon the title of the first line.

It wasn't a name with an Eastern karmic flavor like soul ferry.

It was a phrase full of academic atmosphere, yet inexplicably carrying an ancient, primitive, and extremely cold connotation.

Her pupils focused slightly.

The title of the document read—

【Volume 1, 001: The Call of Cthulhu】

...