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

Professor Finch took a device from the equipment cabinet and gently placed it on the experimental table in front of Lin Zheng.

It was a sleek helmet, its surface covered with a fine, spiderweb-like pattern of silver lines.

"A resonant coordinator."

"Its function is to help you calibrate your mental model, accurately correcting and removing unnecessary 'data biases' from the previous experiment."

Lin Zheng didn't speak, but simply sat down in silence.

The cold metal helmet snapped onto his head, the soft padding along the edges pressing against his temples, bringing a sense of claustrophobia.

The device starts up, and a faint electrical hum can be heard in your ears.

A slight tingling sensation came from his scalp, and then the scene before his eyes began to distort and dim, eventually being replaced by an endless expanse of pure black.

Then, a feeling suddenly arose.

It comes from neither sight nor hearing.

It is a pure, spiritual touch that bypasses all the senses, like some kind of unnameable "scent".

He was extremely familiar with this "smell".

It is imbued with the confusion, fear, and utter despair of a young life in its final moments.

Josh Vic.

Lin Zheng understood instantly.

The source of this aura lies within the geometric core of this so-called "coordinator".

This is neither a memory nor a string of information.

This is Josh Vick's "rationality" after it has been stripped away and purified while he is still alive, and used as a biological battery, a central processing unit to drive this machine to perform mental calculations.

His final lament was completely objectified, sealed within this cold machine, forced to tirelessly repeat the madness of "normality" for every user who connected to it.

Finch was seducing him, Lin Zheng suddenly realized.

He clearly extracted the crystallization of reason from Josh Vick's brain, which should have been a sample that achieved the purpose of the experiment, but he still had it crudely disposed of.

Lin Zheng coincidentally took over Josh Vick's body and extracted the remaining sanity crystals, obtaining information that Professor Finch was involved in the matter. Professor Finch then happened to send an invitation.

Was everything planned from the very beginning?!

So, this device isn't a calibrator, but a trap tailor-made for him.

Lin Zheng commanded himself to remain calm.

He mustered his strength, transforming his consciousness into a sharp scalpel, and carefully probed the "illusory core" that was constantly emitting groans, trying to obtain more information.

The moment his mind touched the core, a sharp alarm suddenly sounded in the laboratory.

The sound did not come from the coordinator, but from Professor Finch's personal control terminal inside the glass room.

On the terminal screen, a red warning box representing "mental intrusion" was flashing violently, illuminating Finch's unsurprising face.

Finch then pressed the red button on the center console.

"Buzzing—"

A tremendous shock reverberated in Lin Zheng's mind, and his entire consciousness space shook and collapsed.

He had a strong premonition: he had to leave this place, otherwise his consciousness would remain here forever, and he would become a vegetable.

My heart was pounding, my heart rate soared to over 190 beats per minute, adrenaline was flowing, and my muscles were trembling slightly.

But when Lin Zheng's hand loosely gripped a scalpel and began to move, it was as precise and skillful as his movements when dissecting and assembling Gundams.

His mind was as still as death; there was only the scalpel and the illusory core in his consciousness.

Cut it off with one stroke.

The device on his head popped off automatically, and Lin Zheng suddenly opened his eyes, the real world once again filling his field of vision.

He ripped off his helmet, the heavy metal striking the table with a piercing bang.

Finch stood in the doorway of the glass room, stretched out his hands from the pockets of his tweed trousers, and gently clapped his hands.

"Clap, clap—"

The smile on his face remained unchanged, but the gentleness had faded, leaving only an excitement of watching animals fall into a trap.

"Hehe, it seems your 'instability' is more interesting than I imagined."

Lin Zheng's heart pounded in his chest, blood rushed to his brain, bringing a brief moment of dizziness.

He knew the game was over.

He was checkmated.

Alistair Finch probably already considered him his own, and after playing with him for so long, he wanted to see where his abilities were limited.

Lin Zheng walked out of the laboratory without saying a word, without being stopped.

Perhaps in Finch's mind, he had already figured out how to turn this more powerful and perfect sample into the greatest work of art.

His struggles, his resistance, and all his actions will provide more output for emotional transformation and rational extraction.

The automatic door behind me closed silently, shutting out the cold, blue-white light that belonged to rationality.

The corridor was deserted, save for the echoing sound of his own footsteps, each sound striking the smooth terrazzo floor.

The disguise has failed.

The probing is over.

Waiting is death.

He pulled out his encrypted communicator and his fingertips flew across the cold screen.

A message was sent.

"Now!"

The recipient is codenamed "Shadow".

The response was almost instantaneous.

"clear."

Lin Zheng randomly found a classroom, closed the door, and drew the curtains.

The classroom was dimly lit, with only the light from the laptop screen illuminating his bloodless face.

He sat in the chair, closed his eyes, and sank his consciousness into the remaining mental frequency belonging to Josh Vick, feeling that despair and remembering every detail of it.

Five minutes later, Shadow's command popped up on his laptop screen.

"It has begun. His mental defense system is a living labyrinth, built on his own psychological and psychiatric models, with every wall a trap."

"Get ready. When I hit a barrier, you'll need to use your abilities to create a crack."

In Lin Zheng's "realistic deconstruction" perspective, data flows down like a torrential downpour.

It's not just a combination of 0 and 1.

It is also a distorted logical symbol, a philosophical wall of self-defense, and a noise barrier formed by the painful cries of subjects in countless experiments.

Psychological attacks, however, are manifested through code programs.

The first wall: conceptual confusion.

He is replacing the concept of "individual sacrifice" with "collective well-being," which is hypocritical and deceptive.

Lin Zheng focused his mind and peeled away Josh's chaotic, fragmented dreams to extract the pure emotions he felt for his family.

That frequency transformed into a glimmer of light, injecting into the torrent of data.

The barrier melted.

The second wall: moral ambiguity.

He is justifying his actions with utilitarianism, which is logically consistent.

Lin Zheng recalled Finch's papers, those cold arguments about "necessary costs".

He simultaneously released this cold rationality and Josh's primal fear of life in his lingering dream, two completely opposite frequencies.

The walls of the maze began to shake violently, and cracks appeared.

"Well done! I see the core area... Wait, something's tracking backwards!"

"He's spotted us!"

"Holy shit!" Lin Zheng roared at the screen.

He projected Josh Vick's last helpless and desperate cry, which represented all the resentment and anger of a life form before it was completely "optimized," without reservation.

This is no longer a key.

This is a battering ram.

Finch's mental defense system, that ivory tower built of pure reason and elitism, was shattered by this primal emotional violence from the bottom of society.

"Key breakthrough. Scanning files... Intercepted an unusually encrypted communication data file with the 'Ouroboros' marker."

The information about "Shadow" popped up quickly.

"Locate a research log for deep encryption."

A new window pops up.

The progress bar is moving forward rapidly.

Ninety-nine percent.

hundred percent.

The file was opened, and a text appeared before my eyes.

Lin Zheng's breathing stopped.

The experimental subject [Josh Vick] has exhibited unexpected thoughts that have inadvertently touched upon the core of the plan and constitute a risk, but has not demonstrated the characteristics required for the experiment. Therefore, he should be 'optimized'.

"Download complete."

The information about "Shadow" just popped up.

The door lock made a soft "click" sound.

The door was pushed open.

Professor Alistair Finch stood in the doorway, a slight approving smile on his face.

His tweed suit was spotless, as if he had just stepped out of a wonderful play and was ready to make a perfect exit.

The cold clapping sound rang out again—

"Clap, clap..."

Congratulations, Lin.

"You've passed the final test."

"Now, welcome to the 'Republic'."

"I am Socrates."

"And you will be Plato, recording my words and deeds."