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

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As dusk approached, the clinic was deathly silent, save for one or two faint shouts from afar, which amplified the heavy feeling in the air. The shouts seemed to drift from the depths of the wasteland, mixed with the low howl of the wind and sand, like the murmurs of ancient spirits, gradually swallowed by the last rays of the setting sun.

Lin Zheng sat on the bench, his fingertips hovering over Samantha Jones's pebble. The pebble emitted no light, yet a chill ran through his palm. The coldness pierced his skin like icy needles, creeping up his arm and reaching his heart, causing him to shiver involuntarily. He recalled the pebble's former glimmer of light, a symbol of hope, now replaced by a deathly silence, as if foreshadowing impending disaster.

Evelyn stood by the window, watching the last vestiges of orange on the horizon be swallowed by the somber twilight. The wrinkles on her brow were so deep they seemed etched into her skin. Her fingers gripped the windowpane tightly, her knuckles white, her eyes filled with weariness and unease. Outside, the outline of the wasteland blurred in the twilight, the distant castle spires piercing the sky like blades. The air was thick with the mingled scents of earth and blood, making her chest tighten.

Suddenly, a deep roar came from Percy's bedside, breaking the frozen air in the examination room. The sound, like thunder, exploded from the depths of his chest, with a metallic echo that made Lin Zheng's eardrums buzz, and the entire examination room seemed to tremble.

Percy's body trembled violently. He gripped the edge of the bed tightly, the wooden frame creaking and groaning. His fingernails dug into the wood, leaving deep scratches, and sweat mixed with blood trickled down his arms, the dripping sound particularly jarring in the silence. His eyes were wide open, the pupils contracting to pinpoints, his prosthetic eye flashing an eerie red light, shifting erratically as if alive.

Blood vessels bulged on his neck and temples, veins twisted and contorted, and the muscles in his face were convulsed and deformed. It was as if countless insects were wriggling beneath his skin, pushing against the surface and making a faint tearing sound, sending chills down the spines of onlookers.

Evelyn whirled around, her hand instinctively reaching for the scalpel at her waist, but she quickly and stiffly lowered it. Her breathing quickened, her heart pounded, and countless surgical scenarios flashed through her mind, none of which applied to the inhuman mutation before her.

"Lord!" Cross Grey shouted, and he and Mia Grey instantly pressed themselves against the wall, their eyes filled with fear. His voice trembled, his weapon gripped tightly in his hand, but he dared not take a step forward. Beads of sweat slid down his forehead, reflecting the panic in the candlelight.

Percy's wailing erupted from the depths of his throat, no longer a human voice. It was like a low growl torn from cracked earth, carrying the heat of underground magma and the stickiness of mud. It echoed in the clinic for a long time, making the air seem distorted.

His body began to swell, his skin tightened, and the rough fabric creaked beneath his taut muscles. Muscle fibers bulged and knotted like steel cables, and with each twitch, the bed frame shook, sending splinters flying and scattering across the floor.

Mia Grey let out a short scream, trembling as she stumbled backward until her back slammed against the cold wall. The impact was crisp and weak; her legs went weak, and she almost collapsed, her eyes fixed on Percy, her face as pale as paper, muttering an unknown prayer.

Lin Zheng felt the pebble vibrate violently in his palm, a chilling sensation shooting straight into his spine. The vibration was as rhythmic as a heartbeat, each beat like a blow to his soul, making his vision go black and almost causing him to lose his balance. He forced himself to take a deep breath, trying to steady himself, but felt a chaotic fog spreading through his brain.

He knew this was a strong reaction from the cheat system "Dream Anatomy," indicating that some indescribable entity was awakening. The reaction surged like a tidal wave, and countless fragmented images flashed through his mind: twisted limbs, wriggling tentacles, abyssal darkness, making his stomach churn and him feel nauseous.

Percy's clothes were ripped, his muscles bulged unnaturally, and his skin began to crack, with streaks of blood spreading across his body. These cracks started from his chest and extended to his limbs, spreading like a spider web, each crack accompanied by a low gurgling sound, as if liquid was surging beneath his skin.

These twisted and coiled patterns didn't resemble torn wounds, but rather a kind of growing totem, wriggling beneath Parcy's skin. The edges of the patterns shimmered with a fluorescent light, pulsating rhythmically, like living blood vessels connecting every inch of his flesh, emitting a faint sulfurous smell.

A foul-smelling, viscous liquid seeped from the cracks, emitting a nauseating, putrid odor that quickly filled the entire examination room. The smell was strong and pungent, like rotting entrails mixed with swampy mud, making it difficult to breathe, and Kross involuntarily gagged.

The viscous liquid wasn't simply blood-red; it was somewhere between dark red and purplish-black, with a sickly sheen. Under the candlelight, it shimmered with an oily reflection, slowly flowing and corroding the ground, making a soft sizzling sound.

Evelyn stared intently at Percy's body, her scientific understanding utterly collapsing at that moment, her breathing becoming labored and rapid. Her throat felt dry, her tongue numb, and all the anatomical diagrams and pathology reports in her mind vanished, replaced by endless emptiness and fear.

The rudimentary instruments in the examination room were sent flying by Percy's frenzied force; metal basins rolled to the floor with a jarring sound. Knives, gauze, and bottles scattered everywhere, bouncing off the walls in a chaotic mess. Candlesticks tipped over, candles went out, and the examination room was instantly plunged into semi-darkness, with only the faint light from outside seeping in through the window.

The medicine bottle shattered, spilling its contents onto the floor, mixing with a foul-smelling slime to create a disturbing scene. The mixture steamed, emitting a low boiling sound, and formed strange bubbles and crusts on its surface. The air was thick with a suffocating stench of chemicals and biological matter.

Percy suddenly broke free of his restraints, his tall body crashing to the ground with a thud, the floor trembling and lime dust falling from the ceiling. Dust billowed, obscuring the view, his weight cracking the wooden planks, revealing damp soil beneath, black sap seeping from the fissures.

His limbs convulsed on the floor, slamming against the walls of the clinic with inhuman force, each impact deepening the blood-red patterns on the walls. The walls caved in, the stones loosened, and dust rained down; each blow was like a warhammer, making everyone's teeth chatter.

The creaking of bones breaking and the tearing of flesh echoed in the examination room, like the hatching of some subterranean beast. The sounds layered upon each other, from low to high, piercing the eardrums and striking the brain, blurring Lin Zheng's vision and filling his auditory hallucinations with countless whispers.

The sound, mixed with Percy's distorted wails, assaulted Lin Zheng's eardrums, causing his head to throb with pain. Waves of pain washed over him; he pressed his temples, his fingertips tingling, and stars flashed before his eyes, yet he still forced himself to keep his eyes fixed on Percy.

Lin Zheng suppressed his dizziness and used "Real Deconstruction" to look at Percy. The scene before him instantly distorted, turning into countless shimmering lines. The lines were as complex as circuits, interwoven into a net, pulsating with a ghostly blue light. Each line was marked with unknown runes and energy flows, making his eyes burn.

In his vision, Percy's body was no longer a simple body of flesh and blood, but rather composed of countless interwoven, eerie runic veins. These veins originated from the heart and radiated throughout the body, varying in thickness; some were like vines coiling around the organs, while others were like threads piercing the bone marrow, all trembling slightly.

These runic veins emitted a faint yet dangerous glow, deeply embedded in Percy's organs and blood vessels, controlling his every move. Ancient patterns, like the marks of a lost civilization, were faintly visible within the glow, and each pulse stirred the dust in the air, forming miniature vortices.

Through these connections, Lin Zheng saw a direct link between the inhuman power within Percy and some ancient rune deep within the earth. That connection was like an invisible umbilical cord, extending downwards, passing through the castle's foundation, reaching the depths of the wasteland, and touching a huge, pulsating rune core.

The connection was not physical, but a bridge of spirit and energy, extending deep into the earth to some slumbering being. Black energy flowed across the bridge, corrosive, each surge causing Percy's body to convulse, as if drawing nourishment.

It was a terrifying, primal law of "sacrifice and preservation." Percy's pain and mutation were providing nourishment for some being. The law was like a balancing scale; pain transformed into power, and mutation gave birth to new life. Lin Zheng seemed to hear a low, chilling laugh coming from the depths of the earth.

Lin Zheng's sanity nearly vanished at that moment, his mind filled with tinnitus and hallucinations, but he clung tightly to this fleeting insight. In the hallucination, he saw himself entangled in runes, his skin cracking, slime flowing, screaming as he joined the sacrifice. He bit his tongue hard, using the taste of blood to awaken himself.

He saw that the underground runes were activated during Percy's mutation, emitting a deeper, more eerie light, as if responding to Percy's pain. The light devoured other light like a black hole, and a low hum came from the ground, seeping through the floor into the examination room, causing the candlelight to flicker.

Evelyn trembled as she recorded the alarming data on Percy's physical deformities, her medical knowledge and beliefs shattered in that moment. Her hands shook violently, ink splattered on the paper, and the numerical curves became distorted. She wiped them again and again, but the situation only became more chaotic, tears blurring her vision.

Percy's frenzied body finally calmed down after violent convulsions. He collapsed to the ground, breathing heavily and roughly, his chest heaving violently. Sweat and mucus mixed together, forming a shiny film that slowly closed, leaving permanent scars that gleamed like medals.

The examination room was a complete mess, with bits of flesh and blood mixed with broken instruments, filling the air with a thick stench of blood. The floor was slippery, each step making a sticky sound, filth accumulated in the corners, and a persistent, buzzing auditory hallucination like flies lingered.

Mia Grey slumped to the ground, her eyes glazed over. Cross Grey gripped his weapon tightly, cold sweat beading on his forehead. His muscles were tense, his gaze darting around, avoiding Percy's eyes, his breathing rapid and labored.

Evelyn looked blankly at Lin Zheng. Her medical voyage had been completely capsized in the supernatural storm. She felt the world spinning around her, all scientific laws rendered a joke, and a sense of awe and despair for the unknown welled up within her.

Lin Zheng's gaze met hers. Although his mental state was on the verge of collapse, his eyes were more resolute than ever. That unwavering determination concealed the turbulent waves within him. He knew that only action could save him.

They all understood that their "diagnosis" had to be a life-saving lie, packaging all madness as "truth." This lie had to be flawless, catering to Percy's arrogance, or it would be a dead end.

Whether this lie can deceive Persina's insightful prosthetic eye will be revealed in the next instant. That prosthetic eye is as sharp as a hawk's, able to see through the web of lies. Lin Zheng's heart sank, but he forced himself to remain calm.

Outside the clinic, dusk had fallen, and darkness had completely swallowed the castle, leaving only the faint howl of wolves in the distance. The howl was mournful and distant, echoing across the wasteland, like a prelude to the impending judgment.

The air in the examination room was heavy and oppressive, like the calm before a storm. Everyone breathed cautiously, the smells of sweat and blood mingling, making it hard to breathe, and time seemed to stand still.

Evelyn sat at the simple table, the nib of her pen lightly scraping across the paper, making a faint sound. That sound, in the silence, was like sandpaper grinding against her nerves, making Cross shift his feet uneasy.

That wasn't an ordinary medical record sheet, but a clean sheet of drawing paper she'd taken from her medical kit, its edges already slightly curled. The rough paper prevented the ink from smudging, making it perfect for outlining those twisted runes and veins.

Lin Zheng's rationality slowly returned, but he knew it was only a superficial calm; the deeper pollution was incurable. That pollution was like a seed, buried deep in his heart, ready to sprout at any moment, keeping him awake at night.

The remaining runic patterns in his mind were clearly visible, and the ancient power within Percy resonated with the throbbing deep within the earth. That throbbing, like a heartbeat, was perfectly synchronized, reminding him of the horror of the truth.

Evelyn laid out the physical data she had recorded for Percy beside her; those cold, hard numbers and curves seemed so powerless now. She ran her fingers along the curves, feeling a chill; that data had once been her faith, now it was a brickwork of lies.

Those forms and records were evidence of the collapse of her medical system; they were no longer tools for seeking the truth, but raw materials for an elaborately woven lie. Raw materials need to be polished into diamonds to shine with a false light.

"We must convince Percy that this is a power that can be controlled." Lin Zheng's hoarse voice broke the silence of the consultation room. His deep, powerful voice carried an unquestionable authority, causing Evelyn to pause slightly.

He felt the warmth of Samantha Jones's pebble in his palm; its faint glow was like an ancient call, guiding him. The light was weak yet warm, like a lighthouse flickering in the darkness, offering him a sliver of comfort.

Evelyn took a deep breath, trying to calm her turbulent emotions. She struggled to regain her rationality, even though her perception was already distorted. She closed her eyes for a moment, and images of medical school classrooms flashed through her mind, those formulas now seeming as distant as a dream.

She picked up a pen and drew on the paper the shape of the veins she had seen through Parcy's cracked skin during her rampage. The lines were bold and powerful, branching out like tree roots and intertwining into a net. She traced them repeatedly to ensure accuracy.

These lines, in her memory, closely matched the plant-like vines Lin Zheng had previously described. The uncanny coincidence at the point of agreement sent chills down her spine, yet also formed the basis of the lie.

"If this is a kind of 'symbiosis,' then we should describe it as an 'enhancement' of power, not a disease," Evelyn said. Her voice gradually steadied, carrying the calmness of a professional doctor, and the lines she drew became increasingly fluid.

Lin Zheng nodded, his gaze falling on the vascular diagram drawn by Evelyn. He saw that the runic veins perfectly matched these blood vessels. The match was like a match made in heaven; the veins were embedded in the blood vessels, like parasites disguised as symbiosis.

He recalled Uma Zulu's whispered words: "ancient blood," "sacrificial ground," "sleeper," "origin." Those words, hoarse and ancient, echoed in his mind, lingering like a spell.

These words, like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle, reassembled in his mind, outlining a horrifying truth. In this truth, Parsi was not a victim, but a vessel, bearing the will and madness of the land.

"We need to connect this 'power' with this land, with Percy's bloodline, and with the 'glory' of his family," Lin Zheng continued. His words, like threads, wove a grand narrative, catering to Percy's arrogance.

Evelyn's hand trembled slightly, the pen tip drawing a crooked line on the paper, but she quickly regained her composure. The tremor betrayed her inner fear; she took a deep breath, smoothed the ink with her fingertips, and continued sketching.

On the other side of the drawing paper, she began to sketch the twisted runes left by Uma Zulu. These runes were curved like snakes, full of sharp angles, and each stroke seemed to carry a curse; her fingers felt numb as she traced them.

As she drew them, the runes possessed a primal and mysterious power, each stroke seemingly containing some ancient secret. The outlines of the earth lurking within those secrets made her heart race.

She no longer tried to explain these things scientifically, but instead viewed them as a "structure," a "technology" or "genetic code" beyond comprehension. This shift caused her immense inner pain, yet also brought a sense of relief.

Lin Zheng then began to conceive their "diagnostic report," breaking down and dismantling all his observations and clues from Uma Zulu. Like an alchemist, he stirred and blended them into a deadly honey.

He decided to describe the inhuman power within Percy as an "awakening of talent" stemming from an ancient bloodline, rather than a simple "pathology." The word "awakening" was filled with glory, obscuring the sacrificial nature of the act.

He traced runes in the air with his hand, as if reshaping some ancient and powerful magic circle. The gestures were fluid, and the magic circle in his mind spun, energy surged, allowing him to briefly forget his fear.

He wanted to emphasize that while this "awakening" had side effects, it pointed to a deeper "source power," a power that Parcy could control. The source acted as bait, arousing Parcy's curiosity and greed.

Evelyn was responsible for repackaging these mysterious concepts using her forensic expertise. She used a rich vocabulary, including terms like "bioenergy resonance field," "cellular-level structural remodeling," and "latent genome sequence activation and fusion," to write them down.

She used terms like "bioenergy resonance," "cell structure optimization," and "potential gene sequence activation" to describe the phenomena of the runic veins in Lin Zheng's eyes. The technical terms piled up like a wall, blocking the cracks in the truth.

She defined this "side effect" as a "reaction that the powers are not yet fully balanced," rather than a real illness. The reaction, like the prelude to a storm, foreshadowed greatness, and Percy would surely buy it.

This report was not intended to cure, but to satisfy Parcy's deep-seated arrogance and thirst for power. The thirst was like a flame, and the report was the oil, which only fueled it.

The pen moved swiftly across the paper, a stifling silence filling the consultation room, the two men's breathing clearly audible. Their rhythm gradually synchronized, like comrades in arms, beads of sweat dripping onto the paper, blurring the ink.

With trembling hands, Lin Zheng wrote the last line of the report, a suggestive description of the "root." The description was poetic and vague: "The root lies in the heart of the wilderness; awakening it is to dominate." Each word was like a hook, embedding itself into the heart.

This description, vague yet alluring, aims to guide Percy to explore that deeper, more primal power. A power like an abyss, leading to downfall, yet promising a throne.

Evelyn carefully tucked away a runic atlas disguised as a pathology report; the atlas would become their "evidence" to persuade Percy. The atlas was neatly folded and hidden in her bosom, heavy as a talisman.

This lie, called a "diagnosis," embodies all their fear, wisdom, and will to survive, yet it is now to be presented as the truth. The will to survive burns like wildfire, consuming reason and leaving only instinct.

Just then, there was a knock on the door of the examination room. The knocking was heavy and rhythmic, like the footsteps of death. Each knock was like a hammer blow to the heart, echoing endlessly and making the air even more still.

Brutus Grubb's icy voice came from outside the door: "The time has come. The lord awaits you." The voice was like a blade cutting through the air, with a metallic tremor, brooking no argument.

Lin Zheng and Evelyn exchanged a glance. The candlelight illuminated their pale faces, revealing a resolute determination deep within their eyes. That determination, like a sharp sword, cut off all retreat, leaving only forward.

Their reason and lives hang by a thread. It hangs on Percy's prosthetic eye and heart; one thought gives them life, the other takes them death.

This "truth," woven by their own hands and capable of challenging Percy's authority, will now be their only weapon. That weapon is sharp yet fragile, hanging by a thread between life and death.

This weapon could also be their burial ground; life and death hang in the balance. Footsteps approached from outside the door; the gates of fate were about to open.