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

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Lin Zheng's consciousness felt as if it were entangled in a giant net. Brutus's words, "Capture him alive! Capture him alive... that strange oriental guy inside!" echoed repeatedly in his ears, each reverberation dragging him into a deeper chill.

He felt like a chosen experimental subject, rather than an ordinary enemy in a conflict. This scrutinizing gaze, carrying an unknown and unease far exceeding death itself, pierced his perception more sharply than a blade.

Was it his "dream anatomy" that was inadvertently exposed when dealing with corpses, or was it Arthur's past identity that implicated him?

Or perhaps, the Percy Highlord has a more secretive and sinister purpose for them?

These questions tore at the edge of his sanity, alarms blared deep within his mind, each pulse bringing a blur of vision, as if shrouded in thick fog, making it impossible for him to see his surroundings.

He tried hard to capture those fleeting moments, wanting to use "realistic deconstruction" to find the structural weaknesses behind it all, but he only felt his spirit rapidly slipping away like sand in an hourglass.

Outside the vehicle, taking advantage of a lull in the fighting, Lina quickly used the tactical flashlight on her "modified weapon" to sweep across the area under the vehicle. The weak beam of light pierced through the dust, illuminating the "Gobi Raiders" that had been reduced to piles of sand and gravel.

These sands slowly seeped into the ground, and then coalesced again in more distant places into twisted, humanoid shapes, moving silently but with a nauseatingly sticky feel.

"It's no use. The bullet went through, and it closed up again." Lina's voice was full of frustration. The gun in her hand seemed so powerless against these monsters made of sand and stone.

This is neither an ordinary creature nor a machine, but a "nightmare creation" closely connected to the will of this wasteland, a physical entity that cannot be eradicated by conventional forces.

The blurry totems he had glimpsed in his remnant dream surfaced in Lin Zheng's mind. They were primitive and rugged, and they seemed to appear and disappear on the reassembled sand and stone bodies, revealing an indescribable evil.

This wasteland was no longer a geographical concept to him, but a living, enormous dream, a nightmare shaped purely by primitive beliefs and instincts.

He recalled the scattered information about the Ochre Labyrinth State: the federal government and the American Dream Corporation kept their distance from it, not because of a lack of technology or weaponry, but because of an untamed, unpredictable primal force.

The company's "narrative construction" completely fails here. The "American Dream" instilled through broad spiritual imprinting and narrative broadcasting cannot take root here, and data and algorithms become meaningless.

This land submits only to its own ancient and twisted laws, believing that flesh and soul are the only true currency, used to sacrifice to the "gods" lurking deep within the wasteland.

This means that the enemy they are facing is not only the tribal warriors in front of them, but also the "dream" of this land itself.

This realization is more chilling than any weapon; it represents utter disorder and irrationality, a chaos that modern civilization cannot comprehend or confront.

Faced with such power, technology, laws, and even reason seem so fragile and insignificant.

The acrid smell of smoke inside the car grew stronger, irritating Lin Zheng's throat and making him feel suffocated. He heard Arthur's each labored breath, like torn fabric, his voice hoarse and broken.

The sound, carrying the premonition that life was about to end, shattered Lin Zheng's thoughts about the nature of the world and abruptly pulled his attention back to the real and desperate situation before him.

He had to do something before his sanity completely collapsed. But the weakness brought on by the 'depletion of sanity' made it extremely difficult for him to take a breath; his body felt like it was filled with molten lead, and his limbs were stiff.

My vision became even more blurred, the world in front of me shook violently, and I even almost lost my hearing due to the constant buzzing.

Through the shattered car window, the shadows of tribal warriors flickered like ghosts, and the sparks from clashing weapons were blinding in the night.

The modified all-terrain vehicle was already teetering on the brink of collapse; every inch of its metal body was groaning in agony, and it could fall apart completely at any moment.

Jeremy, with a reckless ferocity, desperately blocked the gap in the car door. His face was covered in dust and blood, but his eyes were unusually determined, as if he wanted to burn his life out.

He pressed his back against the vehicle, turning himself into a wall of flesh and blood. With each attack he blocked, his muscular body trembled slightly, and sweat mixed with dirt streamed down his face.

He brandished the spare tire wrench he had pried from inside the car, along with several twisted pieces of the vehicle, like a cornered beast driven to the brink of despair.

Jeremy stood firm like an iron tower, but his heavy breathing indicated that he was under immense pressure and his strength was rapidly waning.

His muscles were stretched to their limit, and each block felt like he was draining his last remaining life force. Despite this, he held the gap, refusing to let any enemy step into the carriage.

Buck Stoneaxe's heavy "homemade flail" whistled through the air like a viper's tongue, each strike landing precisely on the wreckage Jeremy had set up, sending sparks flying and debris flying everywhere.

The heavy impact of the flail made the entire vehicle tremble. Each landing felt like a hammer blow to Lin Zheng's heart, making him shudder as if his own bones were being struck.

Buck Stone Axe's eyes burned with a beastly madness and ferocity, his tattooed body arched like a full moon bow, surging with power and violence.

Each swing of his sword carried the force of a whirlwind, as if he wanted to smash Jeremy and the wrecked car to dust. His skin was rough and tough, covered with crisscrossing scars, and every tremor of his muscles revealed his wild vitality.

Lin Zheng's mental exhaustion caused everything in front of him to be covered by a layer of blurry fog, but with the passive perception of "Dream Anatomy", he instinctively caught a flaw in the trajectory of Buck Stone Axe's swing.

It was a weak connection between the bones, a blind spot in the transmission of power, the only flaw in Buck Stoneaxe's seemingly indestructible defense that was not perfectly covered.

On the verge of exhausting his power, a clear structural line, like a firefly suddenly lit on a dark canvas, flashed across his blurred vision.

He struggled to gather his scattered consciousness, and with a trembling voice almost distorted, he gave instructions to Lina. Each word seemed to be squeezed out of his parched throat, and the blood-tinged air made his throat ache with every utterance, his voice hoarse and unlike his own.

"Right shoulder...below...there's a bone gap there! Quick!"

Lina's eyes, which had been shrouded in despair, were instantly brightened by his precise command. She had no time to question the source of the command; Lin Zheng's insight had saved their lives more than once.

Her movements were lightning fast; almost instinctively, she barely adjusted the muzzle of the gun to aim in the direction Lin Zheng was pointing. Without any hesitation, she adjusted the muzzle of the 'modified weapon' and pulled the trigger.

The bullet tore through the air with a sharp whistle, striking Buck Stoneaxe's right arm with pinpoint accuracy. The rough leather armor could not withstand the bullet's kinetic energy; it embedded itself deeply in flesh, splattering crimson blood.

Buck Stoneaxe's muscles spasmed instantly, his immense strength, which he was so proud of, was abruptly interrupted at that moment.

Buck Stone Axe let out a deafening, beast-like roar, his voice filled with wounded ferocity and astonishment at Lin Zheng. His roar was brimming with resentment and pain, like the howl of a wounded beast, shaking everyone's eardrums.

The excruciating pain in his right arm caused him to lose control of his muscles instantly, all his strength vanishing in an instant. The 'homemade flail' in his hand slipped from his grasp and fell to the ground with a dull thud, kicking up a cloud of dust.

The accuracy of this strike undoubtedly shocked every tribal warrior present, and their originally frenzied offensive was momentarily halted by this unexpected turn of events.

A brief silence followed, broken only by the low growls of fear and anger from the tribal warriors and Evelyn's suppressed sobs.

Lina's marksmanship, combined with Lin Zheng's precise commands, broke the stalemate, catching the tribal warriors, who had previously held an absolute advantage, off guard for a moment. A tense atmosphere filled the air, and everyone's nerves were stretched to the limit.

Evelyn lay tightly beside Arthur, pressing the remaining bandages and tattered cloth torn from somewhere against his chest wound. Blood continued to seep from between her fingers, staining her pale fingers red.

Her tears flowed uncontrollably, soaking Arthur's charred clothes. Her desperate sobs were faint yet heart-wrenching.

Arthur's breathing grew weaker and weaker, each breath sounding like a countdown to the last moments of his life, and his hoarse, tearing breath made Evelyn tremble uncontrollably.

His lips were purple, his face was pale, and his eyes were unfocused; the light of his life was slowly dying out. Evelyn tried to bring some comfort to Arthur's cold body with her own warmth, but it was all in vain. That desperate and helpless expression was etched into Lin Zheng's eyes.

Lin Zheng felt a piercing pain of helplessness gnawing at his heart.

Lina's gunfire continued to suppress the surging tribal warriors, but they seemed tireless, like a group of bloodthirsty zombies, their fanatical shouts deafening.

Buck Stone Axe's injury only made them hesitate briefly, and then, led by the other warriors, they surged forward again like a tide, showing no sign of retreating.

Their eyes were filled only with killing and fanaticism for the Percy Grand Lord.

Although Buck Stoneaxe was wounded, his already fierce eyes became even more manic, with anger and fanaticism churning deep within his pupils like two burning flames.

The excruciating pain from the bullet did not deter him; instead, it ignited a deeper savagery and ferocity within him. His body contorted, his muscles bulged, as if an indescribable power had been fully awakened within him.

His bare upper body, with its primitive totem tattoos seemingly activated by the blood, twisted and writhed like living things, emitting a dark red glow, making him look more like a bloodthirsty madman crawling out of an ancient battlefield than a simple tribal warrior.

He was no longer human, but some kind of monster completely dominated by faith and violence.

He didn't pick up the flail again, but instead charged forward like an enraged bear, roaring once more. This time, his target was Jeremy, and he was faster and more ferocious, with a determination to take him down with him.

His massive fist, accompanied by a deathly howl, slammed down on Jeremy's head. The fist was as thick as a hammer, its surface bulging with veins, seemingly embodying all of Buck Stoneaxe's rage and power; a suppressed, explosive roar filled the air.

Jeremy was already exhausted from the continuous fighting. He didn't even have time to raise the "spare tire wrench" to block, and his arms were sore and numb from the long fight.

As the powerful punch was about to land, a flicker of despair crossed Jeremy's eyes. He had done his best; his body had reached its limit at this moment.

The buzzing in Lin Zheng's ears intensified, and everything before his eyes blurred. Time seemed to slow down, yet also speed up, at this moment. Jeremy's face distorted in his eyes, Buck Stoneaxe's ferocious smile lengthened, and the dust and blood mist in the air resembled solidified amber.

He felt his blood running backwards, an extreme sense of anxiety and powerlessness almost overwhelming him.

The battle around the vehicle reached a terrifying stalemate. The wrecked "modified all-terrain vehicle" teetered on the brink of collapse, its metal frame groaning in agony under the immense pressure, each impact seemingly tearing it apart completely.

The car windows were shattered completely, and the doors were twisted beyond recognition, resembling an iron coffin that could fall apart at any moment.

The tribal warriors' attacks failed to completely breach the defenses. They were blocked by the makeshift barrier that Jeremy, Lina, and Evelyn had painstakingly erected, like a pack of hungry jackals who, though surrounding their prey, could not bring themselves to bite.

A tense, oppressive atmosphere hung in the air, a calm before the storm. Everyone knew this stalemate wouldn't last long.

Just then, a thunderous roar exploded across the battlefield, instantly drowning out all the other noise.

This sound was not the roar of a single tribal warrior, but a roar with absolute pressure and power, as if it came from the most ancient god in the depths of the wasteland, instantly suppressing all the chaotic sound waves.

All the tribal warriors, whether they were roaring and attacking fiercely or the restless "Gobi Raiders," seemed to have been paused, their movements frozen.

The fervor in their eyes was replaced by a deeper sense of awe and fear, as if they were facing a supreme being. The entire battlefield fell into a deathly silence.

Lin Zheng turned his head with difficulty, looking in the direction from which the sound came. His vision blurred as he caught sight of a huge shadow, which, like a moving mountain, slowly and majestically walked out from among the tribal warriors. Each step carried a heavy sense of oppression, causing the ground to tremble slightly.

He saw an exceptionally tall and imposing figure, like a moving mountain, slowly walking out from the crowd of tribal warriors.

The man was muscular and covered in coarse hair. His face and arms were covered with symbolic scars and tattoos, which were not simple decorations but marks of some ancient ritual, exuding a chilling, bloody stench.

He lost sight in one eye in a past battle, and it was tightly covered by a frosted iron eyepatch. The only eye that was exposed was as sharp as a night hawk's, sweeping across the chaotic battlefield.

That single eye gleamed with cold calculation and undisguised aggression, as if it could see through all pretense and reach the essence of things.

This man was Brutus Grubb, the most violent and savage army commander under the Highlord of Parsis.

His appearance instantly changed the atmosphere of the battlefield, transforming it from chaotic slaughter into an orderly encirclement. Every tribal warrior in his presence restrained their arrogance and became docile and obedient.

This man was Brutus Grubb, the most violent and savage army commander under the Highlord of Parsis.

His appearance instantly changed the atmosphere of the battlefield, transforming it from chaotic slaughter into an orderly encirclement. Every tribal warrior in his presence restrained their arrogance and became docile and obedient.

He swung his huge hand axe, its blade stained with dried blood and the remains of some unidentified creatures, and casually drove away several tribal warriors who were trying to completely destroy the vehicle, like shooing away a pack of troublesome puppies.

His movements were brutal and powerful, yet carried an undeniable efficiency. After being driven back by him, the tribal warriors did not dare to resist in the slightest and obediently retreated to the side.

Brutus Grubb's single eye coldly swept across the interior of the carriage, his gaze piercing through the broken windows and the thick smoke, stopping on Lin Zheng. It lingered for a few more seconds, as if penetrating Lin Zheng's outer shell and looking directly into the secrets of his heart.

It was a feeling of being stripped of pretense, of being completely naked. Lin Zheng felt that he was completely exposed in those eyes.

An unprecedented chill rose from the depths of Lin Zheng's bones, instantly spreading throughout his body. He felt like prey being watched, or even more special than prey, as the gaze held scrutiny and a strange... "interest," as if he were not an ordinary enemy, but a specimen worthy of study.

Brutus Grubb then issued a command in a rough and hoarse dialect.

His voice sounded as if it had been honed in a deep throat. Although it was incomprehensible, the undeniable authority it conveyed made everyone who heard it tremble.

Although Lin Zheng couldn't understand every single word, that one word, that phrase carrying the chilling implication of death, struck his eardrums with crystal clarity:

"Capture him alive! Capture that weird Eastern guy inside..."

At the command, the attack tactics of all the tribal warriors changed instantly. Their eyes were no longer filled with mere bloodlust, but with a deeper greed and cunning.

The original offensive tactic instantly turned into a siege. Their eyes were no longer fixed on Jeremy or Lina, but instead fixed on Lin Zheng through the gaps.

Instead of focusing on damaging the vehicle, they began to form a tighter encirclement. They put down their weapons and revealed a predatory, greedy look, trying to capture the people inside the vehicle alive.

Their eyes were like those of someone appraising a rare treasure, rather than a prey about to be torn apart, which made Lin Zheng feel an even more chilling fear.

The command instantly sent a chill down his spine. He had become the target. Why him of all people? Had his special abilities been detected? Or was he being mistaken for some other, more dangerous being?

Lin Zheng's heart pounded violently, a fear deeper than death gripped him. He couldn't understand why these primitive tribes were showing him, the "Awakener," such unusual "attention."

Brutus Grubb's single, aggressive eye pierced through the shattered car window, locking onto Lin Zheng. His gaze seemed to rip his soul out, foreshadowing a fate more terrifying than death—a fate with an unknown purpose, the true abyss... He felt an unprecedented sense of crisis engulfing him like a tidal wave.

Brutus's massive figure completely enveloped the interior of the vehicle. The 'hand axe' in his hand gleamed with a deathly cold light in the firelight, and his grinning face seemed to foreshadow a fate more cruel than death that was about to befall them.

That was the unknown, and endless darkness...