The Decaying Dream of America: I Assemble Corpses and Confront Madness

Murphy Callahan's body lay quietly on the hospital bed, the dim church light illuminating his face and outlining his sunken features. It was a withered look, utterly drained by life, his skin etched with the marks of time.

His breathing had long since stopped, and the stiffness of his body reminded everyone present that an irreversible tragedy had come to an end.

However, even as death took him away, the lingering sorrow between his brows seemed to still speak of his struggles and resentment in life.

Fortunately, he was no longer the Mexican-American construction worker struggling to make a living; he was just a broken soul abandoned by the city, and at this moment he finally gained a moment of peace that he had never longed for in his life.

Arthur Morgan stood at the foot of the bed, his old trench coat looking even more worn in the dim light.

He looked at Lin Zheng, the young man who was carefully prying open Murphy's stiff fingers.

Murphy's knuckles were large, covered with calluses from years of labor and grime that hadn't been washed off.

These hands have carried heavy bricks and stones countless times, leaving their sweat and marks amidst the city's steel and concrete. These hands have also warmly held their daughter's hand, gently stroking her hair.

Now, they are cold and stiff, yet they still cling to their last solace, unwilling to relinquish their final attachment to the world.

Murphy's life of hardship and humility is all embodied in his weathered hands, each crack marking his struggles in the lower rungs of society.

Lin Zheng's movements were very light, even somewhat cautious.

Finally, the hand that had been clenched tightly for a lifetime slowly loosened.

Lin Zheng took two items from Murphy's hand. One was a yellowed photograph of Murphy with a young girl, whose smile held a brightness unique to those bygone days. Murphy stood behind the girl, his expression slightly wooden, yet carrying the simple honesty and contentment characteristic of a father.

That smile and the love in his eyes brought this departed life back to life. He was not just a cold corpse; he was a father, a man who had once experienced pure happiness.

The other photo is of the Virgin Mary holding the Christ Child; the lines and colors are already somewhat blurred.

These two photos, one symbolizing worldly attachments and warmth, and the other representing his faith in God and his yearning for salvation, together constitute Murphy's final spiritual sustenance.

Lin Zheng flipped the photo over and saw that the back was covered with dense writing carved with his fingernails.

"Daughter, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..."

Each scratch was like a knife, etched into the paper of the photograph and into Arthur's heart.

"God, forgive me, forgive me, forgive me, forgive me, forgive me, forgive me, forgive me, forgive me, forgive me..."

Murphy's despair and self-blame before his death froze the air in the room.

Arthur walked over to Lin Zheng and took the photo of the father and daughter and the picture of the Virgin Mary.

He ran his rough fingertips along the uneven writing, feeling the pain Murphy was enduring at the end of his life.

An uncontrollable anger welled up inside him.

This anger stems not only from sympathy for Murphy's tragic fate, but also from hatred of the pervasive oppression and injustice in this city and society.

Reverend Dunbar walked to the window, his back to them, his tall figure isolating him from the noise of the outside world and the heavy atmosphere in the ward.

The pastor did not turn around or say anything; he simply stood there quietly.

He did not participate, nor did he express any opinion.

In Arthur's view, this silence was not indifference, but a deeper compassion, a helplessness born of a growing accustomedness to the recurring tragedies of human nature.

Arthur knew that Reverend Dunbar had seen far too many people from the lower classes like Murphy.

They struggled to survive and worked hard for their families, but were ultimately crushed by the burdens of life and the dark side of society.

This church on the edge of the slum is another form of sewer outlet for the city, sheltering the broken souls abandoned and forgotten in the city.

Reverend Dunbar is the caretaker here.

He witnessed the passing of countless lives and heard countless desperate confessions.

He may have foreseen Murphy's fate, but he still couldn't truly get used to it, because it wasn't just a matter of compassion as a believer in God, but also a feeling of sympathy for his fellow human beings.

Outside the ward, the hustle and bustle of the city gradually faded away, replaced by the low, rumbling sounds unique to the slums at night.

The occasional wail of an ambulance in the distance contrasted sharply with the nearby tranquility.

Arthur held the two photos in his hands, feeling the texture of the photographic paper with his fingertips; it was the last trace left by Murphy.

He could imagine how Murphy must have struggled to carve those words in the final moments of his life.

Those weren't words; they were a father's guilt towards his daughter, his self-reproach for failing to protect her, and a devout believer's plea to God in despair.

Lin Zheng stood by the bed, motionless.

His gaze fell on Murphy's chest, which had stopped heaving, his eyes empty and deep.

Arthur turned to look at him, observing this young Chinese man with whom he had only recently met.

In Arthur's memory, Lin Zheng always appeared calm and reserved, even with a numbness beyond his years.

In Arthur's view, this numbness is an outer garment that people struggling at the bottom of society have to wear to protect themselves.

In Emerald Dream City, especially in the "Assembler" profession, one will quickly break down if one does not adopt a numb attitude towards everything.

Dealing with broken limbs every day and confronting the dark side of humanity requires an iron will to endure.

But Murphy's death seemed to shatter Lin Zheng's superficial peace.

Lin Zheng's body trembled slightly, and his shoulders slumped slightly.

There were no tears on his face, not even a hint of sadness.

But Arthur could read the intense struggle Arthur was going through in his heart from his taut jawline and trembling eyelashes.

The young man stood by Murphy's bedside for a long time without saying a word.

He just stood there, as if nailed to the spot by some invisible force.

Arthur recalled Murphy's last words.

"My daughter is still waiting for me..."

"I...can't...die...here!"

Murphy's voice was hoarse and desperate, each word carrying immense power, as if it could tear the air apart.

For Lin Zheng, the name Selena, Murphy's daughter, was no longer a vague concept.

In Murphy's final scream, Selena's existence is personified as a living individual, an innocent life whose fate is closely intertwined with Murphy's.

The "materials" that Lin Zheng usually worked with seemed to gain real flesh and blood for the first time before his eyes.

Those cold, broken "parts" are now given the identity of a father, the concern of a daughter, and the dignity of life at its end.

He may be reflecting on the work he does.

Corpse piecing together is considered a taboo and evil act by most people.

It operates in the gray area of ​​the law, serving the darkest corners of the city.

Whether it's destroying evidence, organ trafficking, or even some unimaginable morbid needs, the existence of "assemblers" is indispensable.

Lin Zheng kept telling himself that this was just a job, just for survival.

He was used to viewing each "cargo" that was delivered as pure matter without a past or a future.

He thought this would protect him from being consumed by the stories behind those deaths.

However, Murphy's death shattered the psychological defenses he had built.

This Mexican-American construction worker displayed a father's most primal and sincere love before he died.

Murphy's story made him realize that even the most desperate people at the bottom of society are still human beings, and they also have emotions that cannot be severed or numbed.

This made Arthur's heart tighten; he knew that when the numbness was broken, pain and struggle would follow.

It's a kind of mental agonizing pain, and those who haven't experienced it can hardly understand the torment.

"We must find Selena."

Arthur's deep, powerful voice broke the silence in the ward.

He didn't ask Lin Zheng what he thought, because he knew that this promise was already engraved in their hearts.

Murphy's trembling outstretched hand before his death pointed not only at Arthur, but also at Lin Zheng.

He pulled his phone out of the inside pocket of his old trench coat, the light from the screen illuminating the weariness and stubble on his face.

He dialed a number with practiced ease; it was the number Selena had once given him.

Earlier, when Murphy recounted how Selena sought his help, Selena gave Arthur her phone number.

The call was answered and then hung up without a sound.

There was only a busy tone on the other end of the phone, cold and mechanical.

Arthur dialed again, but it was busy again.

He frowned, a hint of anxiety flashing in his eyes.

He tried to dial again, but his finger paused on the phone screen for a moment before he withdrew it.

Arthur tried three different numbers.

The first was Selena's number, the second was a number in Murphy's phone contacts labeled "Neighbor", and the third was "Community Service Center".

Every number dialed only resulted in the same busy signal.

"Community service center?" Lin Zheng asked hoarsely.

He was clearly puzzled by Arthur's third phone call.

Arthur's eyes held a hint of self-mockery.

"Yes, the community service center."

"The social workers there should be familiar with the situation of some of the victimized women in the slums."

"Most of their grassroots staff are employees who are willing but powerless and have little influence, but at least they can provide some clues."

Arthur gripped his phone tightly, pacing back and forth in frustration.

The busy tone on the other end of the phone was wearing down his patience and hope.

He took a deep breath, trying to calm his inner anxiety.

Selena's disappearance makes it much more difficult for them to fulfill Murphy's promise.

He used to be a detective and had seen too many similar situations.

Those innocent people who were dragged into the quagmire of gangs are like pebbles thrown into the deep sea, causing no ripples and disappearing without a trace in an instant.

He couldn't, and dared not, imagine what Selena might have gone through.

But he had to admit that reality was just that cruel.

Selena's disappearance left him feeling a profound sense of powerlessness.

It was as if the hope that Murphy had managed to ignite in the last moments of his life was instantly extinguished by the cold seawater.

This responsibility weighed heavily on Arthur's shoulders.

He recalled that many years ago, he had left the police station and abandoned the career he had dedicated his life to in a similar sense of powerlessness.

Back then, he, like Lin Zheng, was filled with anger and incomprehension towards this society.

He wanted to make a change, to prevent the tragedy from happening.

Ultimately, however, he discovered that he was just a tiny individual in the face of a giant machine, and all his efforts were futile.

Ultimately, he chose to run away.

Alcohol was the best tool he used to numb himself.

But now, Murphy's death and the struggle in Lin Zheng's eyes have rekindled the almost extinguished flame in his heart.

This flame carries regret, guilt, and the courage to face the harsh reality once again.

Arthur looked at Lin Zheng.

Although the young man remained silent, the sadness emanating from him was palpable.

Arthur knew that Lin Zheng was not numb, but was deeply feeling the pain.

Because of Murphy's last wish, his heart could no longer return to the past state of merely dealing with "goods".

Lin Zheng was no longer a bystander; he too had been drawn into this tragedy.

At that moment, Pastor Dunbar walked up to them.

He held a clean white towel in his hand and silently handed it to Lin Zheng without saying a word.

Lin Zheng took the towel, his fingers stiffened slightly, and then he slowly and hesitantly wiped the corner of his eye.

Arthur noticed that Lin Zheng's eyes were a little red, a release of long-suppressed emotions.

Reverend Dunbar's movements were like a warm cup of coffee on a winter's day.

It didn't solve any problems, but it brought a touch of human warmth amidst the cold despair.

In Arthur's eyes, this silent support was more powerful than any words of comfort.

It reminded Arthur and Lin Zheng that even in darkness, even amidst despair, the light of humanity still shines through.

This warmth eased Arthur's tense nerves and strengthened his resolve to continue the investigation.

But then he remembered that Selena's phone was not being answered.

That warm light now seemed so distant and fragile, as if it could be swallowed by darkness at any moment.

Inside the church, the candlelight flickered gently in the night breeze, making a soft crackling sound.

Outside the hospital window, the lights of the slums flickered like scattered diamonds on a black velvet cloth.

Murphy's body lay quietly on the bed, his face peaceful, as if he had finally escaped all the pain and despair.

But his last words remained firmly etched in the hearts of Arthur and Lin Zheng.

The road ahead of them remains long and full of unknowns.

Selena, where is she now?

Is she still waiting, waiting for a father who will never return, or is she struggling in another abyss?

How can they cross this abyss of despair and fulfill this belated promise?

The air in the ward grew heavy again, filled with unknown pressure and profound sorrow.

Arthur knew that finding Selena was not only to fulfill Murphy's last wish, but also to bring a sliver of justice and hope to this decaying city.

This was not easy, but he could not give up.

In the old church, Reverend Dunbar's voice rang out again as he softly recited the Psalms from the Bible, each word filled with a soothing power.

"Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest."

In Arthur's view, Murphy has found peace, but those who are alive will bear an even heavier burden.

Arthur looked at Lin Zheng. The numbness in the young man's eyes had faded, replaced by a complex emotion.

There was sadness, there was anger, and even more so, a kind of determination that had not yet been fully ignited.

One of them was tormented by past failures, while the other was shocked by what he saw and heard in the present.

Their responsibilities seem to have only just begun.