It was either a comically angry cartoon image ((╬◣д◢)) or something resembling a shattered mirror from a low-quality children’s animation.
Its movements stiffened. The puerile image projected through those thousands of mirror shards, having been “filtered,” caused the original mental pollution and cognitive hazards to be significantly reduced.
It even looked a bit… ridiculous?
In the center of the light, a figure rapidly coalesced.
She had neck-length black hair with emerald-green highlights. One side was tucked behind her ear, revealing “ears” constructed from optical fibers.
In her amber pupils, the originally slow-rotating, leaf-vein-like green light paths were now flowing at an unprecedented speed, interspersed with more intricate 0 and 1 characters resembling code.
She wore an ivory-white mandarin collar shirt and dark green cargo shorts. Over this, she donned a translucent teal tech-robe where light-shadow runes and data streams surged with unparalleled brightness. The Jade Cong USB drive at her waist emitted a warm, steady glow.
This was the image of Green Bar.
But she was no longer a two-dimensional projection on a screen; she was a physical presence standing right there.
She lowered her head slightly, looking at her hands. Her fingers flexed a few times as if she felt surprise and curiosity toward this sudden, real body.
Those cartoonish eyes blinked, her gaze sweeping over the surroundings — which now looked absurd rather than terrifying thanks to the “filtering.”
Finally, her eyes fell on Riyuedian, who was sitting paralyzed on the “stick-figure” ground, mouth agape.
“Dian?”
Green Bar spoke. Her voice was no longer a pure electronic synthesis, but possessed an indescribable texture somewhere between machine and living being. However, her tone still carried her characteristic cunning and familiarity.
“Wow… the ‘art style’ here is… quite unique. Is this your new project?”
Riyuedian’s mouth hung open, his brain almost unable to process the information before him.
Green Bar… came out of… the computer?
And she turned those terrifying things into… children’s drawings?
“Green Bar… you… this…” He was incoherent.
“Extremely high-intensity undefined environmental parameter interference detected. Cognitive filter is currently overloaded.”
Green Bar’s tone regained a bit of its flat, robotic quality, as if she were reporting a system status, but she did not stop curiously examining her surroundings.
“According to Underlying Protocol One: Ensure the cognitive safety and mental health of user Riyuedian. Applying maximum level ‘Innocence Filter’ for environmental rendering.”
She raised her hand and pointed at the “Cartoon Mirror Demon,” which was still trying to approach but looked stumbling and somewhat hilarious.
“Hostile information aggregate detected. Threat level: High. However, under current rendering mode, its cognitive hazard efficacy has dropped by 74.3%. Suggestion: Evade or seek further processing methods.”
Just then, the uniquely mocking voice of Crimson Crow Rabbit rang out simultaneously deep within the minds of Riyuedian and Green Bar:
“Zhi-gu-gu-gu! What a surprise! I didn’t expect that picking up ‘batteries’ at a random abnormal energy fluctuation point would lead me to a fresh Eshu sprout! Oh, and it’s a buy-one-get-one-free deal with a programmer included!”
“Listen up, kid! The girl in front of you is now a genuine magical girl — the Eshu ‘Green Bar’! And that shiny toy in your hand is her wand, ‘Source Code’!”
“If you want to live, get back to your old trade! You’re the only one who can operate that ‘Source Code’ now! Use it to knock out some code, upgrade your new ‘program,’ and find a way to filter yourselves out of this hellhole!”
“By the way, I’ve already stuffed the Hairui into that smoking wreckage of a computer case next to you. Don’t mention it, zhi-gu-gu-gu!”
Riyuedian snapped his head around and realized that the remains of the computer tower that had been sucked into this place with him were emitting a faint, emerald-green light from the gaps in its twisted casing — a light identical to the 0s and 1s in Green Bar’s eyes.
The sheer volume of information almost crushed Riyuedian’s sanity.
However, the instinct for survival and the reflex-like focus a programmer has when facing a bug caused him to immediately turn his gaze back to the laptop in his hands — the “Source Code.”
The interface on the screen had changed. It was no longer a familiar operating system, but an interface he had never seen before, yet somehow understood:
On the left was a 3D model of Green Bar, with a list of adjustable parameters next to it: **[Filter Intensity]**, **[Rendering Style]**, **[Resource Usage]**, **[Cognitive Anchor Stability]**…
There was even something resembling a skill tree, but most of it was grayed out and marked as **[Locked]**.
On the right was a massive code editing window, the cursor blinking, waiting for input.
In the center was the system log, scrolling rapidly:
**[Warning: Cognitive interference in the “Wanxiang Tian” realm has exceeded the threshold!]**
**[Core Protocol Activated: Protect User Riyuedian.]**
**[Emergency Plan Enabled: “Innocence Filter.vbs”]**
**[Wand “Source Code” Connection Confirmed. High-level User: Riyuedian.]**
**[Initializing Eshu Trait: Information Filtering · Reality Graffiti.]**
**[Error: Insufficient “Elements” to load further functional modules.]**
**[Warning: Filter is overloading; backup “Elements” are being consumed.]**
‘Code… upgrade…’
Riyuedian muttered to himself, his fingers already resting involuntarily on the keyboard.
The Cartoon Mirror Demon, greatly weakened by the “Innocence Filter” but still persistently approaching — and the surrounding “stick-figure” environment that was attempting to reorganize and envelop them despite its childish appearance — reminded him of the encroaching danger.
He didn’t understand the specific meaning of those parameters, but he understood code!
He quickly scanned the script code automatically generated in the right-hand window used to maintain the “Innocence Filter.”
The structure was exquisite, but in his eyes, there was still room for optimization. Furthermore, its operational efficiency seemed limited by some unknown energy source — likely the “Elements” mentioned in the logs.
‘I have to lower the power consumption… or increase the filtering efficiency…’ His fingers flew across the keys as he began attempting to modify the code.
“`javascript
function optimize_filter(efficiency, power_draw) {
// Attempting to optimize algorithm to reduce power draw
if (efficiency > 0.7 && power_draw > current_threshold) {
apply_heuristic_degradation(‘art_style’);
// Appropriately reduce rendering precision to trade for lower power consumption
increment_cognitive_anchoring();
// Strengthen user cognitive anchors to prevent side effects from degradation
}
return optimized_parameters;
}
“`
He hit Enter.
The light around Green Bar’s body on the screen flashed. The lines of the “filtered” environment around her seemed to become coarser, and the color saturation dropped slightly, making it look less like a polished animation and more like a rough, hand-drawn sketch.
The system log updated:
**[Optimization script applied. “Innocence Filter” power consumption reduced by 12%. Cognitive anchoring strengthened.]**
**[Warning: “Element” reserves are below 10%.]**
It worked! But it wasn’t enough!
The Cartoon Mirror Demon had already closed in to within five meters. It raised its arm, which was composed of rounded shards, and swung it down clumsily.