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

Inside the luxury car, which was driving smoothly, you couldn't hear the wind outside the window; the only sound was the rhythmic thud of the tires rolling over the road seams.

The scent of the leather seats, mingled with the subtle woody notes of Professor Finch's cologne, was trying to mask something more stubborn in Lin Zheng's olfactory memory—

The sour smell of garbage, the sweet smell of blood, and the painful stench of sweat.

Outside the window, the lights of Emerald Dream City stretched out like ribbons of gold, silver, and neon.

The glass curtain walls of the skyscrapers reflect each other's splendor.

In the distance, on the GG sign, a blond man is raising a glass in celebration, his smile filling the entire building, with the slogan "Invest in your dreams."

Lin Zheng closed his eyes and replayed those images in his mind.

The little girl's cries filled with hatred, the mother's tears shed out of false hope, the homeless man's agony as he swallowed bran sausage.

He started labeling these images.

"Emotional Sample A: Hatred, extremely pure, triggered by deprivation of basic survival resources, has long-term research value."

"Emotional Sample B: Happiness, with a significant peak, sourced from false promises and a sudden boost in social status, which can be used as a highly efficient exploitation target."

"Physiological response sample C: pain, the correlation with hope fluctuates greatly, triggered by the physical properties of 'bran sausage', and is a controllable variable."

Since he acquired the ability of "Dream Anatomy," each use of it has expanded the bandwidth of his brain, which simply means he has become smarter, but he has also been affected to some extent by the coldness of rationality.

He now needs to break down each individual person into data, variables, and parameters, so he temporarily strips away their humanity.

The vehicle glided silently into the quiet campus of Miskatonic University and stopped in front of a classical building.

When Lin Zheng opened his eyes, the last trace of emotion in them had already faded.

In Professor Finch's office, the flames in the fireplace flickered quietly, casting a warm golden glow on the walls covered with books.

The air was filled with the rich aroma of freshly ground coffee.

"Sit down, Lin."

Professor Finch pointed to the armchair opposite him and poured him a cup of coffee himself.

"I now need an oral report on today's fieldwork."

"Share your observations and conclusions."

Lin Zheng did not touch the cup of coffee.

He leaned forward slightly, his hands crossed on his knees.

"Professor, I believe today's operation was successful in terms of macro strategy, but there was a huge loss of efficiency in tactical execution."

Professor Finch paused in mid-air, his hand holding the coffee cup slightly raised, signaling him to continue.

"First of all, the screening process is too crude."

"While the physical deterrence of guards effectively eliminates low-value targets such as alcohol addicts, their violent behavior itself can trigger widespread fear among the target group, leading to abnormally high cortisol levels."

"This stress hormone contaminates the original emotional base of the sample, resulting in a lower initial value of subsequent 'hope injection,' which directly affects the magnitude of the final 'potential difference.'"

Finch put down his coffee cup, leaned forward slightly, and his expression changed from relaxed to truly focused.

"Secondly, the design of the distribution of supplies lacks a tiered approach."

"The abrupt switch between turkey and 'wheat bran sausage' creates too much of a jarring contrast. While it can amplify the emotional impact, it can also easily trigger small-scale disturbances, just like what we ended up seeing."

"This chaos is disordered, and the resulting emotions are a mottled mixture of 'anger' and 'disappointment,' which is difficult to quantify and has little value for research that requires precise data."

Lin Zheng spoke at a steady pace and used precise words.

"Finally, regarding the mother who signed the agreement, I think the media exposure at the scene was a mistake."

"While it brought her hope to its peak, it also completely exposed the case to the public narrative."

"If any uncontrollable follow-up reports emerge in the future, it could impact the credibility of the entire Hope Foundation. This is a high-risk, one-off operation that is not sustainable."

The office was silent except for the soft crackling of the burning wood in the fireplace.

Professor Finch gazed at Lin Zheng, his eyes no longer holding the scrutiny of a mentor, but instead a delighted surprise at discovering a kindred spirit, even admiration.

"So," Finch's voice was deep and powerful, "what is your optimization plan?"

"Datafication, personalization, and closed systems."

Lin Zheng answered without hesitation.

"Non-contact physiological indicator monitoring should be introduced during the screening phase."

"We need to obtain the target's heart rate, respiratory rate, and core body temperature in real time."

"Establish a quantitative model of 'mental resilience' to prioritize individuals with weak willpower and drastic emotional fluctuations; they are the most efficient 'fuel'."

"In the distribution of supplies, we should adopt the psychological anchoring method."

"For example, for three consecutive days, only wheat bran paste mixed with water was provided, and then on the fourth day, a real meat steak was precisely delivered to an individual whose resilience model score was A."

"The 'happiness' generated by this experience of going from extreme scarcity to instant gratification will be far more pure and intense than the crude collective revelry of today."

"As for key samples, such as the mother and her child, the entire process should be completed in a closed environment."

"We don't need a mayor, and we don't need cameras."

"All that's needed is for an 'authoritative figure' to appear, wearing a white coat and holding documents."

In a quiet room, she was gently told that her child would be placed in an elite education program, and that she herself would receive a stable, respectable job.

"In an environment isolated from external interference, we can more precisely control variables, repeatedly harvesting her hope and despair until her spiritual value is completely drained."

After uttering the last word, Lin Zheng quietly looked at Finch, awaiting judgment.

He felt as if he had not been speaking, but rather using words to personally dissect his own soul piece by piece and display it before Finch.

After a long silence, Professor Finch smiled.

It was a genuine, undisguised, and pure smile of approval.

"Perfect……"

"Lin, you were born to do this."

"Many of what you're talking about are things we've already been doing, but you've systematized them, theorized them, and infused them with a kind of... cold poetry."

"We truly understand and agree with each other, especially when it comes to the understanding and appreciation of beauty."

Professor Finch raised his coffee, gesturing for Lin Zheng to join him.

Lin Zheng took a sip to clear his mind.

"In fact, a kind of mathematical beauty and natural beauty has long existed in society, and what we do is to get people who can understand and appreciate this beauty to support our work."

"This society is actually a huge differential equation, a perfect representation of one e."

Professor Finch drew a large 1/e on a piece of white paper and showed it to Lin Zheng.

"It's close to 37%."

"The unlucky constant?" Lin Zheng muttered to himself.

The so-called "unlucky constant" is the probability of not winning a prize after 100 draws with a 1% chance of winning. When this number is substituted into infinity, the probability approaches 1/e.

This is the spontaneous tendency of random systems: when the probability of success and the number of opportunities are reciprocals, about 37% of people will be unlucky.

"Yes, our country is a perfect example of a free-market capitalist model. Everything our government does is to ensure that it is equivalent to doing nothing, that is, creating a free market."

"Something for nothing."

Lin Zheng unconsciously read the word aloud. He first learned of this word from a novel by Jiang Nan.

"Charity, welfare, aid, and social security are all designed to maintain this mathematical model, because free market production stops when it reaches a supply level where everyone has just enough to live on. But supply is allocated randomly, without any real secondary distribution, so what about those less than one-e percent..."

Professor Finch looked at Lin Zheng with great interest, anticipating his answer.

"37% of people will fall into the death row if they do not have enough resources to live on. This is a perfect illustration of sociology and economics."

Lin Zheng answered with a chill. So this is how cruel the sociology +3 within the constellation is.

"Perfect. Our job and target are to enable these 37% of people to realize their maximum value. We will reach the end of history and become the last people, forever."

He stood up gracefully from his seat, and instead of walking towards Lin Zheng, he slowly walked towards a wall deep inside the office.

"You have proven yourself to be a 'dream builder,' able to discard those useless, sentimental humanistic rubbishes and understand a grander order and beauty."

There was an oil painting depicting a pastoral scene hanging on that wall.

The sound of the heavy, precise mechanical lock turning as the safe was opened opened the gates to hell.

Professor Fincher pressed lightly on the frame, and the painting silently slid open to one side, revealing a heavy, metallic-looking round safe door behind it.

Finch took out a palm-sized, pitch-black encrypted hard drive and handed it to Lin Zheng.

"This contains the basic model data and early experimental records of the 'Republic Project'."

Lin Zheng reached out and took the hard drive.

It feels icy cold to the touch, yet also incredibly heavy.

This is both the key to revenge and the shackles that bind his conscience.

"From now on, you will have secondary access to some laboratory areas and will officially participate in the next step of the plan as my research assistant."

Professor Finch gently patted his shoulder, with the genuine satisfaction of a mentor for his prized student.

Welcome, my child.

"Remember, we are not doing evil; we are conforming to the natural constants of God's design for this world."

Lin Zheng gripped the encrypted hard drive tightly in his hand, the cold metal casing burning his palm.

He looked up, meeting Finch's fervent and expectant gaze, and calmly replied, "Yes, Professor."

Oh.

Yes, Prime Minister.