Earth, within a certain salted fish programming group.
"Hello everyone, I want to seal it!"
"Blew 1,200 Krypton Stones—I finally got SSY in the last talisman!!"
"Ah! I'm so hyped!"
A stream of exclamation marks followed like fireworks in chat.
But Shen He wasn't excited. Not even close. 1,200 Krypton Stones had cost him over seven thousand yuan. That's enough to buy a used scooter, or five top-tier euro draws with guaranteed super-rare units. He had nearly given up, drowning in despair. Yet miraculously, in the final bonus pull of the event, a talisman had actually hit.
"Congrats on the shipment!"
"Congrats on the shipment! Red envelope expected!"
"Congrats on the shipment! Red envelope plz!"
"..."
As per usual, waves of automated congratulations flowed in from the group chat.
Of course, there were people who knew him well enough to tease.
"Shen He, that's half your monthly salary, man."
"Don't say it aloud. Let me pretend this was happiness… Maybe I can fool myself into thinking this wasn't a mistake."
Shen He felt like his soul was leaking through a cracked wallet.
He was a 985-educated software engineer, already earning nearly 20k yuan a month just three years after graduation. His future should've been bright—full of innovation and purpose.
So why did he waste his life on this broken mobile gacha game?
He couldn't explain it properly. If he had to, he'd say it came down to one truth:
Loneliness. Emptiness. Cold detachment.
In this world driven by endless materialism and superficial affection, only his paper waifus could bring a sense of comfort and belonging.
———
Manhattan, New York.
The spring sunlight bathed the pavement of the cosmopolitan city, its warmth barely cutting through the towering shadows of concrete and steel.
Shen He sat on a wooden bench, staring absentmindedly at the tide of pedestrians bustling past him. No matter the country, the rhythm of big cities beat with unrelenting haste.
He had once been one of them. But now, he sat idly, letting his mind go blank, enjoying the temporary peace of doing absolutely nothing.
—Which would've been relaxing, if not for the colossal screen across the street.
A live broadcast of a Washington Senate hearing flashed across the glass surface. In the frame stood a middle-aged man with a signature mustache.
Tony Stark.
Nuwa above, Sanqing bear witness—Shen He hadn't offended the heavens, committed any grave sin, or stood under storm clouds. Yet here he was.
He had transmigrated.
Into the Marvel Universe.
And not just any version—but that Marvel universe, with high mortality, city-level threats, and world-ending stakes.
"Hello, dear Master. Slave Summoning System initialized. Welcome."
A sudden, soft mechanical voice echoed inside his mind, catching him off guard.
System?
Was this... the cheat every transmigrator dreams of?
Taking a deep breath, Shen He calmed himself, forcing his eyes to focus on the ethereal interface hovering before him.
A dark blue UI with clean buttons, arranged neatly:
Summoning Center, Copy Center, Personal Center, Follower Center, Backpack.
"System, introduce yourself."
No response.
"Start."
Still nothing.
He tried a dozen voice commands. No dice. The sweet-voiced AI had gone radio silent.
Maybe it was for the best—Shen He didn't love the idea of sharing his mental real estate with a sentient machine anyway.
He tapped into the Personal Center. A full-body 3D model of himself rotated smoothly. His name was listed along with a conspicuous Level 1, and a stat labeled "Magic Content: 10".
Opening the backpack revealed… nothing.
He peeked into the Copy Center—just a single button labeled "Dungeon". He dared not touch it yet.
Then came the Summoning Center. A glowing, intricate magic circle unfurled, flanked by two buttons: Low-Level Summons and High-Level Summons.
Shen He closed his eyes for a moment, piecing things together.
He'd crossed into another world and received a summoning system. This wasn't some freak occurrence. It felt too curated. Someone or something was behind this. But whoever they were, whatever they wanted—he was powerless to resist.
So be it.
Since he was here, he might as well live. Life was short, and living it boldly was better than dying with regrets.
He spared a thought for his parents. Hopefully, his brother would take care of them.
Now composed, Shen He looked at the interface again, heart beating with nervous excitement. The term "Slave Summoning System" echoed with familiarity. It was too close to his gacha game setup. Nostalgia and adrenaline fused.
"Let's check the low-level summons."
Two options appeared: Single Draw and Ten Draws. The number "10" flickered beside both.
"Haha, no hesitation. Ten-pull miracle, let's go. Give me that guarantee!"
He pressed the Ten Draws button. It greyed out. The magic circle whirred to life, releasing radiant silver-white light.
Items floated up slowly, clearly visible as they emerged one by one:
"USD X1000, USD X1000, USD X100, Giant Doll X1, Pineapple Bread X2, USD X500, USD X2000, Coffee Pudding X4, Hayate X1, USD X500."
After the draw, the ten items were logged into the backpack. A 20-hour cooldown appeared for Ten Draws, and 2-hour cooldown for Single.
No actual follower—except "Hayate", which looked like a guaranteed drop.
"Low-tier gacha rarely yields gold... But with passive regeneration over time, I'll build up summons anyway."
He whispered, inspecting the new card in his hand. It was transparent white, depicting a twisting tornado and labeled with two Chinese characters: "Gale."
As he held it, knowledge flooded his mind:
["Hate Wind" – from the world of Cardcaptor Sakura. A short-term summon imbued with wind-based agility. Can be gifted or transferred.]
"Nice."
Shen He grinned. This wasn't just fantasy. It was a structured multiverse tap.
Information flowed through his mind, and he could feel it—somewhere, behind this system, Qi Mu Nanxiong's ability had been embedded. Telepathy. Psychometry. Data reading.
Someone had designed this summoning matrix with real-world logic, pulling data from multiple dimensions.
He looked toward the High-Level Summon interface. No counter this time—only ten shimmering summoning stones available.
"Novice packs are the most broken. Let's see if my European Emperor soul has reincarnated!"
He slammed the Ten Draws button again.
Golden light exploded across the interface. Divine music filled the air like some celestial opera.
"Ding! Congratulations, you have summoned a Five-Star Super Rare Follower: Qi Mu Nanxiong!"
"Holy—!"
Shen He shot up from the bench, shouting a classic Chinese curse.
Qi God?!
It was really Qishen?! The god-tier esper from Earth!?
"Ding. The follower has declined your summon. You have ten minutes to respond. Summon window will close if timed out."
Shen He froze.
Declined?
But... why?
He stared at the hovering countdown, mind reeling. What did it mean for a summon to reject him?
Then, suddenly, a new screen opened—a data feed, streams of text flying past. Scanned analysis. Neural readings. Alignment check.
[Follower: Qi Mu Nanxiong. Judgment: You currently lack emotional maturity, multidimensional awareness, and mental stability required for a full binding contract. Required: Synchronous Thought Threshold ≥ 80%. Current Value: 42%. Recommendation: Level Up, Expand Knowledge Scope, Form Logical-Willed Framework.]
So that's how it worked.
This wasn't a free buffet. Summoning wasn't just luck—it required compatibility, synchronicity. And Qi Shen, with all his psychic abilities, had simply read Shen He's unfiltered thoughts.
And rejected him.
Shen He clenched his fists. He wasn't going to be denied by a pink-haired god.
"Fine. I'll grow. I'll evolve."
He took one last look at the countdown timer.
Ten minutes.
And his journey had just begun.