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

Outside the dormitory window, the city's neon lights weave a bizarre and dazzling scene in the deep night.

Lin Zheng sat at his desk, the faint light from his laptop screen illuminating his tired face.

Several hours of reflection brought him to a complete state of mind, and also made him see the harsh reality.

Professor Finch, the predator disguised as a scholar, possessed power like an invisible wall, utterly crushing Lin Zheng's attempts to resist.

Only by confronting Finch's power can one realize how insignificant an individual's struggle is.

That wasn't a contest of intellect or skill; it was an absolute mismatch of will and strength.

His abilities and all his resistance were cleverly manipulated by Finch, ultimately becoming material to prove his own worth.

He once thought he had glimpsed the truth and had the leverage to fight back.

In retrospect, that was just bait that Finch casually threw out.

The fish takes the bait, the fishing line tightens, and everything is under the fisherman's control.

The only way out is no longer to resist, but to integrate.

Immerse yourself in this huge, cold vortex.

To become part of the vortex, and then try to disintegrate from within.

He took a deep breath and tapped his fingertips on the cold tabletop, making rhythmic, muffled sounds.

The rhythm was like the rise and fall of stitches during sewing, precise and calm.

His eyes were calm and serene, like a still well.

Finch's "Republic" was far larger, more complex, and more dangerous than he imagined.

He realized that his responsibility would no longer be to break through a single point, but to understand and reshape the entire framework.

He once firmly believed in the truth, but now he has to dance with lies, even with wolves.

Lin Zheng's gaze fell on the communicator.

He swiftly swiped his fingertips, and an encrypted message was sent.

Short, direct, and without unnecessary embellishment.

This message carried his latest decision: he had sent all the encrypted data obtained from Professor Finch's terminal, the unusual communications marked with "Ouroboros," and the scattered intelligence about the "Ideal State Project" to "Shadow".

Next, let "Shadow" hand over the data to Evelyn and Arthur.

They will find the right way to handle it.

Their task is to interpret, analyze, store, and disseminate the evidence to where it should be.

Lin Zheng's mission was to infiltrate.

It's infiltration.

He is to become an apprentice in Professor Finch's "ideal state," and also the most dangerous virus.

He cleaned every corner of the dormitory.

All the survey records and files on the computer.

Everything vanished into the abyss, leaving not a trace.

He will once again play the role of a well-behaved student.

He knew Professor Finch's purpose, and Professor Finch also knew his purpose. He knew that Professor Finch knew his purpose, and Professor Finch also knew that he knew Professor Finch's purpose.

"Hehe, it's like a nesting doll." Lin Zheng laughed self-deprecatingly.

He recalled his last conversation with Professor Finch.

"I think we are the same kind of people, with our own ideals and a willingness to put them into practice and make sacrifices. But I think mine will be easier to achieve than your unrealistic ideas."

Alistair Finch regarded Lin Zheng as a kindred spirit, or even a successor.

In a sense, Lin Zheng and Finch are equally confident, arrogant, and even conceited.

One person fantasizes that they might save the world, while the other fantasizes that they can control the world.

Lin Zheng took a deep breath, the cold air entering his lungs and suppressing the boiling urge in his chest.

He picked up his phone, his fingertip hovering over Professor Finch's number.

At this moment, there was no hesitation, no fear, only a deathly stillness.

Finch's voice came through the receiver, still as steady as ever, carrying an air of complete composure.

Good evening, Lin. It seems you had a productive evening.

Lin Zheng's lips curled into a smile.

"Professor, you flatter me too much with my 'enlightenment'."

"But tonight, I did gain a lot of insights."

"I'm beginning to realize that what I've seen is just the tip of the iceberg. And your 'ideal state'... that grand vision, its philosophical system, sociological models, and ultimately, the world it aims to create... what kind of world is that?"

Professor Finch chuckled softly.

"Very good, Lin. The thirst for knowledge is the noblest virtue."

"Especially for those souls who can see the essence of things, this is an innate calling."

Finch accurately captured the "traits" that Lin Zheng had displayed when he was spying on his secrets.

"You know, I have never forced anyone to believe in my vision."

"But I welcome all fellow travelers who seek the truth."

"Your appearance just proves my theory."

"Some people who are bound by 'reason' need to be 'dissected' in order to see the true logic of how the world works."

Lin Zheng's heart skipped a beat, and a feeling of being seen through arose once again.

But he had to continue his performance, even though both of them knew it.

"Professor, I am willing to listen to your teachings."

"My academic background is limited, but I am willing to devote all my energy to learning and understanding these macro-level ideas that transcend individual destinies."

He adopted an extremely humble attitude.

Professor Finch's laughter rang out again, this time clearer, with a satisfied echo.

"Very good, Lin."

"Theory is useless, child."

True knowledge lies in practice.

"Tomorrow, I will take you to a special classroom, a real sociology practice class."

Finch extended an invitation that was impossible to refuse.

"Looking forward to your performance."

The phone hangs up.

Only a busy tone remained on the receiver, followed by endless silence.

Lin Zheng gripped his phone tightly, the metal frame stinging his palm.

He looked up and gazed through the window at the seemingly boundless sea of ​​light in Emerald Dream City.

Those flickering lights were no longer a beacon of hope in his eyes, but rather countless swaying candles on a huge, cold altar.

What kind of hell will Professor Finch's "classroom" be set in?

Will his textbooks reveal his "ideal state"?