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

Chapter 181 Weakness Analysis: Mental Storm

Lin Zheng held Samantha Jones' pebble tightly in his hand. The pebble, which had once been covered in cracks, had now completely healed. Its surface was as smooth as a newborn's skin, yet it carried a faint, cold touch, as if some unknown pulse was still hidden inside.

The walls of the examination room finally stopped their chilling throbbing. Every inch of the rotting flesh seemed to have just awakened from a nightmare. The dust in the air began to spiral and reverse strangely, rotating counterclockwise, as if the timeline of the entire space was being twisted and pulled by some force.

A grotesque and deep fissure split open in Percy's chest cavity, with flesh and blood rolled up at the edges, revealing writhing roots and scattered eyeballs inside. His left eye was blood red like lava, staring blankly into the void. His gaze was unfocused, yet it carried a hunger that transcended life and death, as if summoning some ancient evil spirit.

Evelyn slumped down beside the control panel, her white coat soaked with sweat and blood. The syringe in her hand was twisted and deformed beyond recognition, her knuckles white from the extreme force. She was panting, her chest heaving violently, her eyes flashing with a tired yet determined light.

Frederick gripped the rusted rifle tightly, its barrel covered in scratches and dried blood. His knuckles cracked from the strain, his muscles tense, and beads of sweat trickled down his forehead, dripping onto the stock and rising in wisps of steam.

Outside, the heavy roar of engines grew closer, like the low growl of a wild beast. Dark brown smoke drifted slowly in through the ventilation gaps, carrying the pungent stench of engine oil mixed with human blood, indicating that Brutus's scout chariots were about to approach the crumbling fortress.

In Lin Zheng's mind, the meticulous and complex plan finally took shape. Every step was as seamless as gears. He took a deep breath, and the metallic rust and blood in the air invigorated him.

Evelyn quickly prepared the sedative. She precisely calculated the remaining dose of the special inhibitor from American Dream Corporation, her fingers flying across the broken display screen, which flickered with a faint green light, showing the dosage curve: enough for one peak suppression, but it had to be accurate to the millisecond, otherwise the backlash would be irreversible.

Frederick forged Percy's orders, sending out the guards in a low, urgent voice over the radio. His imitation was so perfect, with the rude authority of a warlord, that the scout vehicles slowed their approach and stopped a hundred meters away on the edge of the sandstorm, their engines growing weaker but still sounding like lurking beasts.

Shaman Uma's rune array requires remote stabilization. She draws upon the rune remnants of the Ochre Maze Indian Reservation, injecting an energy field of ochre powder from a distance. Faintly visible blood-red geometric patterns appear in the air, like ancient protective incantations, resisting the spread of nightmare pollution.

Lin Zheng took a deep breath, expanding his chest to its limit, and then suddenly activated Mad Insight. His pupils dilated abruptly, and his vision unfolded as if being torn apart by layers of reality filters.

Under the intense scrutiny, the full picture of the nightmare's creation clearly emerged: a massive and twisted organism, with highlighted structural lines marking countless weaknesses like lasers. At its core was a pulsating black crystalline energy cluster, tightly intertwined with Percy's heart, and nerve bundles exchanging nutrients and information like living tentacles.

The weakness is precisely located in the folds on the surface of the crystal. These folds are like writhing wounds. Injecting stabilizing elements—such as Evelyn's inhibitors—can trigger a chain reaction of collapse, severing the coupling and releasing the enslaved host consciousness.

A twisted and piercing roar suddenly erupted from Percy's throat, like metal scraping against rock. The roots and eyeballs inside his chest spun wildly, each eyeball locked onto Lin Zheng, its pupils reflecting a distorted image, as if mocking his insignificance.

The climax of the lingering dream flashback begins, flooding into Lin Zheng's consciousness like a torrent: young Percy is lost in the mud and rain, guided by the faint light of a road sign, an Indian stone pillar tilts in the wind and rain into a strange temple, crescent runes reappear, radiating a deep purple light, and the shaman's anchor wails in the distorted reality before ultimately failing.

Percy's tender fingertips trembled as he touched the writhing pebble in the center. The barbs pierced his nerves like living things. Darkness surged upwards like a tide, devouring his senses and soul. At that moment, the thirst for power ignited his empty spirit like a raging fire.

Lin Zheng's senses were completely synchronized with Percy's memories. He felt the primal and wild power of his childhood, which was what drove Percy to the path of sacrifice. The ochre dream core, as a high-frequency conductor, precisely hooked the fragile heart with its low-frequency signals.

The pesticide-contaminated cornfields initiated this agricultural corruption fifty years ago. Chemical residues have distorted the soil and the spirit. The surveying byproducts of the founding of the nation have created logical loopholes, like an invisible black hole that devours reason and reality.

The group quickly regrouped and took their positions. The air was thick with the tense smell of electricity. Frederick's rusted rifle was covered in a strange layer of calluses as he tried to suppress the abnormality within his body.

Evelyn took a sharp scalpel from her white coat pocket; the blade gleamed coldly in the dim light. Her determined gaze indicated: prepare for the injection.

Frederick nodded slightly, his hand holding the gun as steady as a rock, sweat trickling down his temples, but it did not affect his vigilance in the slightest.

The rune array shimmered with a blood-red light in the air, pulsating like a human heartbeat. The energy summoned remotely by the shaman Uma surged in like a tide, resisting the erosion of pollution. Each pulsation made the air tremble.

Lin Zheng's mental confrontation officially began. He closed his eyes, his consciousness pressing down on Percy's distorted consciousness like a sharp blade. Percy's consciousness was boiling like lava, filled with primal hunger and destructive desire.

The wriggling creature stared coldly at Lin Zheng's mental projection, disdainfully dismissing humanity's medical common sense, as if to say: Your science is nothing but child's play.

Evelyn's voice was urgent yet gentle, breaking through the mental noise to reach Lin Zheng's ears.

"Lin Zheng, stay rational and hold on!"

Frederick displayed a rare and subtle kindness, stepping forward to hand over the water bottle with a hint of goodwill in his eyes. The bottle, though scratched, exuded a cool, refreshing scent.

Lin Zheng took the water bottle and drank it down in large gulps. The coolness went down his throat like a clear stream, washing away the chaos in his mind and briefly stabilizing his faltering mental defenses. His breathing gradually became steady.

Outside the clinic, the shadow of a sandstorm enveloped the entire fortress, and the patterns on the pebbles overlapped in a strange geometric design on Lin Zheng's palm, as if foreshadowing a deeper conspiracy.

Lin Zheng's thoughts continued the fragments of his broken dream. Percy's childhood hunger had transformed into the foundation of his warlord rule: after crawling out of the sacrificial ground, he integrated refugees and bandits to establish a separatist regime. Human-art-like sacrifices maintained the iron-blooded order, and the wasteland laws of the Ochre Labyrinth State ruthlessly practiced the law of the jungle.

Time passed slowly, and the faint light of dawn seeped in through the ventilation gaps. The sandstorm gradually subsided, and a low-frequency hum echoed across the red earth wasteland outside the fortress, like the earth whispering.

Frederick reported in a low voice, his tone extremely low but tinged with tension.

"The guards have been evacuated, and the scout vehicles are parked a hundred meters away, awaiting Percy's orders."

Evelyn carefully checked the inhibitor dosage; the liquid in the syringe shimmered with a faint blue glow under the light.

"It's enough to suppress a peak, but the backlash is uncertain and could trigger more severe distortions."

The rune array hummed like a swarm of bees, and electric currents surged through the spinal cord, causing everyone's hair to stand on end and their skin to sting.

Lin Zheng nodded in confirmation, his consciousness penetrating deep into the core of the confrontation, a crucible of spiritual space where Percy's twisted consciousness, like thirsty lava, devoured any thought that dared to approach.

The first blood sacrifice information in Flashback appeared like lightning: After Percy came of age, he returned to the sacrificial site and personally killed the leader of the refugees. His roots greedily devoured negative emotions, and his power increased dramatically. At the same time, he embedded a black stone crystal in his prosthetic eye, further enhancing the parasitic coupling.

At this moment, Parcy's physical spasms reached their peak, the bones of his thoracic skeleton burst and reassembled, emitting a teeth-grinding creaking sound, and his flesh churned as if alive.

Lin Zheng decisively withdrew his focus and obtained crucial information for the diagnosis: the root of the illness stemmed from the living nightmare creation of the Dream Core Mine, originating from Percy's childhood infection; the pebble was not only the key but also the source of the curse.

Evelyn seized the opportunity and injected a special inhibitor from American Dreams Corporation. The needle pierced Parsey's carotid artery, and the liquid gushed in like a silver snake.

Percy's body froze instantly, a heart-wrenching scream emanating from his throat, causing his eardrums to bleed and the cracks in the walls of the entire consultation room to worsen.

Lin Zheng rationally completed the re-editing, and the chaotic information was formatted and sorted like a data stream, with a clear deconstruction map emerging in his mind.

Frederick instinctively stepped back, his rusted rifle precisely aimed at Passy's chest, trigger half-pulled, ready to fire at any moment.

The rune array's light gradually dimmed, Uma's endurance had reached its limit, and the blood-red pattern began to flicker unsteadily, like a dying star.

Footsteps approached from outside the door, heavy and rapid, and the engines under Brutus's command started up, roaring like thunder.

The moment Lin Zheng's attention was drawn away, Percy suddenly opened his eyes, his whispers echoing like a ghost.

"Its name is... the Shaman Whisperer."

Footsteps hurried outside the clinic; it was Brutus's men. Their metal boots crunched through the sand. Who were they there to arrest? Percy, or Lin Zheng and his group?

The burn marks from the pebble on Lin Zheng's palm were still visible, while Samantha Jones's pebble, after cooling, brought a sense of calm as she gripped it tightly.

Through this tempering, Lin Zheng's rationality has become more resilient, and his understanding of the Percy roots has given rise to a profound moral dilemma: salvation or destruction?

Evelyn rose, panting, and checked Percy's pulse with trembling hands; though weak, it beat strangely and regularly.

Beside the guard gate, a kettle lay empty, its reflection etched with weariness and vigilance as it mirrored Frederick's image.

The shadow of a sandstorm looms overhead, and low-frequency signals echo across the barren red earth, like an ancient call.

The history of the mining town in the Ochre Maze State came to mind: opioids sustained the miners' high-intensity labor, excavating otherworldly ores, and the Nightmare Creation Frequency Emission Source modified the atomic arrangement of mitochondria.

The founding document of the nation, the Symbol Indian Reservation, was marked by early colonial oppression, which ironically spawned even more distortions.

Percy's strange illness is deeply entrenched in the lymphatic system, greedily drawing in thirsty nutrients like an insatiable void.

The warlord's scout chariots spewed out human blood and engine oil from their exhaust pipes, while the dark brown smoke symbolized Brutus's ambition to expand his power.

The concrete of the fortress echoed like sandworms grinding their teeth, sparking sparks and despair.

Lin Zheng recalled the intelligence from the union: the Flesh and Blood Capital Alliance had infiltrated the wasteland warlords, and although the Percy territory was wealthy, it was rife with conflict.

Frederick, who came from the homeless cleanup office, went from silent compliance to weak resistance, and a glimmer of humanity flashed in his eyes.

Evelyn, a public hospital worker, witnessed countless tragedies while her scalpel was used to diagnose deaths at the lower levels of the hospital as accidental drug overdoses.

Shaman Uma, acting as an agent of the Land Law, is a pioneer in cracking company systems; her runes resemble the veins of the earth.

The probability fluctuations of the rune array slowed down its collapse, and the blood-red maw devoured the rifts in the void, barely maintaining balance.

Lin Zheng's cheat code is dream anatomy; he can read intelligence from remnant dreams by reading corpse parts, and each fragment reveals the truth like a jigsaw puzzle.

The red line of true deconstruction reveals structural weaknesses; multidimensional errors are ineffective under the three-dimensional scissors; mental recalibration finely formats chaos.

Madness can provide clear insights when reason is clouded, like a lighthouse in the darkness.

Current mission: Stabilize Percy before the warlord scouts enter, escape the encirclement with the stones, and the foreshadowing outside the door will soon be resolved.

The whispers of the 'Shaman Whisperer' echoed through the air, the door was about to open, the shadows mirrored the patterns on the stones, and the symbolism of the higher will sent chills down one's spine.

Lin Zheng wiped the scalpel, the bloodstains on the blade glistening under the light, preparing for the next move.

The clinic room was stained with dried conductive liquid, black feathers remained on the ceiling, and a putrid odor in the air hinted at a hidden threat.

The space was finally flat and restored, but it carried an unnatural stillness, like the calm before a storm.

Frederick whispered, his voice urgent.

"Boss, they're here."

Evelyn quickly put away the syringe, stuffed it into her white coat pocket, and glanced at everyone.

"Keep Percy calm first."

Lin Zheng nodded, put the pebble into his pocket, and the lingering heat in his palm was like a brand, a reminder of the impending storm.

Footsteps outside the door stopped, and the clanging of metal rang out like a death knell. Everyone's heart raced, and the air seemed to freeze.

Lin Zheng looked around the consultation room. The tumor on the wall was quietly shrinking, but it could erupt again at any moment. He knew that this diagnosis was just the beginning, and a greater crisis was approaching from the depths of the wasteland.

Percy's breathing gradually stabilized, but a dark shadow seemed to writhe in the gaps of his chest cavity. The name "Shaman Whisperer" sounded like a spell, foreshadowing the revelation of a deeper secret.

Frederick gripped his rifle tightly, aiming at the crack in the door. Outside, dust swirled, and the engine roared to life once more.

Evelyn whispered a reminder: "The inhibitor's effects only last ten minutes; we must act."

The aftershocks of Lin Zheng's frantic insight were still lingering; the structural lines in his mind flickered, guiding him towards an escape route: ventilation ducts? Or a feigned breakout?

Outside the fortress, the figures of Brutus's men appeared and disappeared in the sandstorm, their weapons gleaming coldly, exuding a murderous aura.

The pebble in his pocket was slightly warm, as if responding to Lin Zheng's will and providing a mysterious guidance.

A moral dilemma grips the heart like thorns: Is Percy a victim or a monster? Will saving him unleash an even greater nightmare?

The group exchanged knowing glances, preparing for the final push. In the air of the clinic, blood and hope intertwined.

As the sandstorm subsided, the light of dawn shone in, illuminating Percy's eerie smile. The murderous intent hidden in that smile sent chills down Lin Zheng's spine.