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

Lin Zheng's world has shrunk.

Shrinking to just a face, a young face that glowed bluish-purple in the candlelight.

Josh Vic.

This name pierced through the numb shell that Lin Zheng had carefully constructed, pinning him firmly to the spot.

Is this yet another "Sam"?

All the sounds from inside the church echoed in Lin Zheng's ears.

Rainwater dripping from the cracks in the roof made a monotonous "drip-drip" sound in the small puddles on the ground.

The crackling sound of wax dripping from a burning candle in a distant corner.

And inside his own chest, the heartbeats grew louder and louder, pounding against his ribs.

Arthur had walked up to him without him noticing, and following his gaze, he remained silent for a moment.

"Damn it." The old detective squeezed out the word through gritted teeth.

The black pastor who had maintained a compassionate demeanor had returned and settled the mother and her baby. Hearing the commotion from Lin Zheng's side, he came over as well.

His gaze fell on Lin Zheng's stiff face, then looked at the young face under the white cloth, a ripple of emotion appearing in his tired eyes.

"Do you know him?" The pastor's voice was hoarse, yet carried a strange calmness.

Lin Zheng nodded but did not answer.

His throat was filled with mud, and he couldn't make a sound.

They weren't close friends, but even ordinary friends can be more touching than strangers because you know what they were like when they were alive.

Reverend Dunbar simply reached out and, with an almost gentle motion, covered the white sheet back over the half-open, cloudy eyes.

"He wasn't a homeless man, but he still died."

Lin Zheng stated quietly.

"I know," the pastor said. "His clothes are decent enough; he doesn't look like someone who's been on the streets for a long time."

"They are all the same."

Arthur's voice broke in, carrying his usual icy sarcasm.

"Whether you're sleeping under a bridge or living in a rented room piled high with textbooks, when your bank account is empty and you can't afford your next meal."

Arthur paused, then looked up at Him, who was showing compassion on the cross.

Lin Zheng also looked at Him.

His thoughts drifted back to his homeland, where that gentleman had written a sentence about Him: "I saw the Son of God nailed to the cross, his dying expression one of compassion and grandeur. How could a god be helpless under the knife? It was just yet another 'son of man's' life being wasted."

Humans and gods share the same form, and creatures are harmed by their kind.

"The next step is the street, and the final destination is always here."

The pastor did not refute, but simply sighed softly.

Lin Zheng nodded after a moment's thought, which was his response.

His gaze swept past Reverend Dunbar, taking in the silhouettes of the people lying quietly in the church.

Just minutes before, they were just a batch of "raw materials" waiting to be processed.

Now, under every white sheet, there could be a "Josh Vic".

A classmate who once smiled at him in the library, a young man burdened with heavy student loans, a person with a name, a past, and dreams...

This cognitive virus spread through his mind, making him feel physically nauseous.

"It seems your work has become more complicated."

Arthur said in a low voice, patting him on the back.

"I'll wait for you in the car outside. How long will it take you?"

"I don't know," Lin Zheng shook his head. "It might take a long time."

Arthur gave him one last, deep look. "Don't push yourself. If you need help, just call out."

After saying that, he turned and walked toward the church door, his heavy footsteps echoing in the empty church.

The wooden door was pushed open and then slammed shut again, letting in a brief gust of cold wind carrying the smell of rain, which made the candlelight flicker.

"Would you like me to pray for you, child?" Pastor Dunbar asked softly.

"I am not a believer," Lin Zheng said.

"God so loved the world, whether or not they believed in Him."

The pastor's tone was gentle. "You look...very sad."

"Thank you, Reverend Dunbar," Lin Zheng simply said.

He admired Pastor Dunbar's kindness, but he didn't know where God was, nor did he need God.

He crouched down and opened the black canvas bag.

"Gundam" assembly kit.

He took out a new pair of plastic gloves and slowly put them on.

He needed to do something, to use familiar, mechanical movements to combat the turmoil churning in his mind.

Reverend Dunbar watched him quietly without disturbing him further. He turned and walked to the other end of the church, where he began to organize the donated clothes piled up in the corner, leaving that space for Lin Zheng and the deceased.

Lin Zheng stood up and took a deep breath.

He didn't go to the other bodies, but went straight back to where Josh Vick was lying.

His heart was still beating fast, but his fingers had regained their steady pace.

He lifted the white cloth again.

He didn't believe Josh would die from hunger and cold.

Even a student from Miskatonic University burdened with student loans wouldn't fall to this state overnight.

The despair of a homeless person and the despair of a student have different smells.

Lin Zheng carefully lifted Josh's right hand and began to examine it closely.

Evelyn taught him a lot of proper forensic medicine knowledge. Combined with his extensive experience in dissecting and assembling "Gundam" figures, he could roughly determine a person's cause of death without using [Dream Remnant Reading].

The two can corroborate each other to obtain more accurate answers and a more precise direction for investigation.

First, the body had already developed rigor mortis, with stiff joints and a heavy, lifeless feel.

His gaze fell on the inside of Josh's wrist.

On that pale skin, there were several faint blue, barely noticeable needle marks.

They were small and not arranged in a chaotic manner like those of drug addicts; they were more like... traces of medical injections.

But the location is too strange.

Lin Zheng's brows furrowed even more.

He gently pressed the skin around the injection site; there were no typical signs of phlebitis or tissue hardening.

This is not the result of long-term injections.

His gaze slowly moved upwards and landed on Josh's fingernails.

The nails were neatly trimmed, but there were traces of dark residue embedded in the nail folds.

Lin Zheng took out a pair of fine tweezers and a small sterile sampling slide from his toolbox.

He glanced back and saw Reverend Dunbar with his back to him, busy in the distance by candlelight.

He quickly and deftly picked out the residue bit by bit and carefully placed it on the glass slide.

It was a nearly black powdery substance with a faint, strange chemical odor.

After doing all this, he wrapped the glass slide in a clean piece of oil paper and stuffed it into the inner pocket of his work jacket.

He needs to find Josh's clothes.

According to the procedure, all items on these "raw materials" should be removed and registered before they are sent here.

He stood up and walked to a corner of the church where several black garbage bags were piled up, containing the last belongings of the deceased.

The garbage bags smelled damp and sour.

Without the slightest hesitation, Lin Zheng untied the first bag and began rummaging through it.

He took out one by one the soaking wet, musty-smelling old clothes.

Most of these clothes were filthy and badly worn, and did not belong to Josh.

The second bag, the third...

Finally, at the bottom of a bag, he felt a coat of a different texture.

It was a dark blue windbreaker, the kind you often see in the Miskatonic University souvenir shop.

He took out the clothes; they were heavy and still dripping water.

He carefully inspected each pocket.

The outer pockets are empty.

He reached into his inner breast pocket and his fingertips touched a hard object.

His heart tightened, and he immediately pulled it out.

It was a leather wallet that had swelled up a bit from being soaked in water.

He opened his wallet; there was no cash inside, only a few soaking wet cards.

He carefully separated them.

A library card, a bank card, and... a photograph.

In the photo, a young, vibrant face is smiling at him.

Young Josh Vick, with brilliant blond hair and confident eyes, is pictured against the backdrop of a university library.

Behind the photo are his name and student ID number; this is the photo he submitted when applying for his student ID at Miskatonic University.

Josh Vic.

The identity has been confirmed.

Lin Zheng's heart sank.

This was not an accident.

This is definitely not an accident.

No matter how down on their luck a student is, they wouldn't carelessly discard their wallet and student ID.

Someone disposed of his body, but they overlooked this most important thing.

It was either an oversight, or... it was handled too hastily.

Lin Zheng put his student ID and wallet back into the pocket of his windbreaker, then crumpled up the whole jacket and stuffed it into his almost empty "Gundam" assembly kit.

He must take the body away.

It cannot be sent onto a transport vehicle along with other "raw materials" and ultimately become a pile of nameless "parts".

He stood up, straightened his clothes, and tried to make his expression look calm and professional.

He walked toward Reverend Dunbar, who was tidying up the church.

"Pastor," he began.

Dunbar turned around and looked at him.

"Is there anything I can help you with?"

"Yes." Lin Zheng pointed in the direction of Josh's body. "That one... is a bit special."

"special?"

"Yes, there are atypical signs of damage to the body tissues, which could indicate some unknown disease."

Lin Zheng quickly fabricated a reason without any expression.

"I need a better-lit, more secluded space for initial cutting and sample collection to assess the risks; otherwise, I cannot process it with other 'raw materials'."

His tone was calm and professional, leaving no room for doubt.

Reverend Dunbar looked into his eyes and remained silent for a moment.

The old man's eyes seemed to see right through people.

"I see."

He finally nodded.

"There is a storage room behind the church, which is usually used to store communion utensils and other miscellaneous items. It is a quiet place with a window."

"thank you."

"Come with me."

Reverend Dunbar led the way, carrying a lamp.

They passed through the main hall, walked past the altar, and came to a low wooden door.

The priest took out a bunch of old keys from his robe and unlocked the door.

A long-dormant smell wafted over.

Without delay, Lin Zheng quickly hoisted Josh's body, along with the white cloth, onto his shoulder with some difficulty.

The body was much heavier than he had imagined.

Carrying this heavy burden, he followed the pastor step by step into the storeroom.

It was a small room with stone walls on three sides and one wall piled with wooden crates and dusty cloths.

There is a sturdy wooden table in the center of the room.

A tall window opened above the wall, letting in the faint light of the rain outside, barely illuminating the outline of the room.

"Is this okay?" Dunbar asked.

"Yes, it's perfect," Lin Zheng said.

He carefully placed Josh's body on the wooden table.

"I'll leave the lamp with you."

Dunbar placed the table lamp on the corner of the table.

"I have a lot to do outside, so I won't bother you any longer. Call me when you're done."

"OK."

Reverend Dunbar turned and left the room, but he did not close the door immediately.

He stood at the doorway and glanced back at Lin Zheng and the corpse on the table.

"Child," he said softly, "may God...guide you to find the answer you seek."

"Thank you, Reverend Dunbar."

"You're welcome. God is happy to guide lost souls." Pastor Dunbar held the cross to his chest with compassion in his eyes.

"Thank you, Reverend Dunbar."

Lin Zheng repeated himself: he wanted to thank Pastor Dunbar; God meant nothing to him.

"May God bless you." Pastor Dunbar nodded, showing no displeasure.

After saying this, Pastor Dunbar gently closed the door.

"Click".

With a soft click, the lock on the outside of the door was released.

The whole world fell silent instantly.

Lin Zheng stood there, listening to his own heavy breathing.

He walked to the table, placed the black "Gundam" assembly kit aside, and unzipped it.

Inside the bag, besides the large sewing needles and bone scissors, there was another layer of more delicate tools wrapped in velvet.

He untied the velvet cloth, revealing a row of scalpels gleaming with a cold silver light.

The handle is slender, and the blade is as thin as a cicada's wing.

In the dim light, the blade of the sharpest knife reflected his resolute gaze.