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

Federal Deep, the headquarters of the American Dream Corporation, Theodore Sterling's office is located on the city's highest floor.

The morning sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting cold, hard lines on the smooth marble floor.

The interior furnishings are minimalist, and every item is meticulously prepared to be almost sterile.

The air was filled with the crisp scent of cologne and the smell of disinfectant.

Theodore Sterling, dressed in a dark gray bespoke suit, tapped his fingertips lightly on the tablet screen in front of him.

His face wore his usual warm but cold smile.

At the worktable in front of him, Isabella Rossi sat upright, her dark uniform impeccable.

Her eyes were sharp as she stared directly at the screen, awaiting instructions.

On the screen, Lin Zheng's face was magnified, frozen in the moment of his focused concentration as he assembled the corpse.

"The emergence of this variable is more complicated than we expected."

Theodore spoke in a deep, unwavering voice.

The scene shifts to a surveillance video: Lin Zheng is in a basic flesh processing plant deep in the slums of Emerald Dream City, facing members of the Viper Gang and mutated monsters.

The monitoring angle kept changing, clearly recording every swing of the scalpel in his hand.

Blood splattered, limbs severed, yet Lin Zheng's expression remained unusually calm.

Theodore looked away from the screen and turned to Isabella.

"The Viper Gang is not a high-ranking group. Under normal circumstances, the Department of Reality Stability would not even intervene in low-level conflicts of this level."

"But the way he handled it..."

Theodore's fingertips traced lightly in the air, and the data curves on the screen began to fluctuate, analyzing the force and angle of Lin Zheng's each attack.

"This is not a blind use of violence, but a highly precise..."

He paused briefly, seemingly considering his words.

"...professional 'work'."

Isabella remained expressionless; she had seen countless analytical reports.

The company's data models can accurately predict the risk threshold of any social unit and provide the best intervention plan.

However, Lin Zheng's appearance did cause some parameters to fluctuate abnormally.

"Our model shows that this kind of 'precision violence' has unexpectedly had a positive effect in underprivileged communities."

Isabella's voice was flat and clear, and she spoke at a steady pace.

"In eliminating the Viper Gang, he seems to have created some kind of... vacuum of order in the area."

"Subsequently, more compliant and controllable gangs quickly filled the void."

"Therefore, from a macro perspective, it is not entirely negative for the grassroots or for us."

Theodore grunted, offering no comment.

The screen switched again, displaying another surveillance video: Lin Zheng sitting deep inside the library, buried in the heavy books.

The light there was dim, with only a faint table lamp on his desk illuminating the yellowed pages in front of him.

He would occasionally tap the desk lightly with his fingertips, mimicking the action of sewing, his eyes deep and weary.

The library's surveillance equipment clearly captured the contents of the materials he was looking at.

It is not a fictional novel or popular reading material, but rather an obscure archive of urban history, as well as some folklore and ancient studies classics.

"He's not your average 'assembler,' which is interesting."

Theodore's voice trailed off.

"His reading tastes go beyond what we typically consider to be the kind of 'laborer'."

"We conducted a psychoanalysis on Lin Zheng's behavior during the Viper Gang incident and his subsequent investigative practices, combined with Alistair Finch's research report."

Isabella reported, her gaze sweeping over Lin Zheng's tired face in the library.

"His sanity is mostly stable, but it drops below the madness threshold when it drops drastically, and this has been demonstrated in him more than once."

"That means he should have long since gone completely insane or was constantly on the verge of a mental breakdown, suffering from daily headaches, delirium, mental instability, and violent behavior."

"The analyst concluded that the dynamic curve of its sanity value should be highly correlated with its special ability, and the use of its ability affects the sanity value."

Theodore pondered for a moment, and the data on the screen changed again, revealing a complex network of interpersonal relationships.

Lin Zheng was placed at the center, with several connections extending outwards: Arthur Morgan, Evelyn Reed, Emilia Vincent, Little Bones Jones, Reverend Dunbar, Sam Washington, John Teller, and the people he often helped...

He tapped his fingertip again, and a red dot of light began to flicker in the network.

That's Emilia Vincent's name.

The scene then shifts to Emilia leaving Vincent's villa in Lin Zheng's car.

Through the car window, Emilia's tightly pursed lips and trembling eyelashes were clearly captured.

Her inner struggles and vulnerability were visualized by the company's analysis system as fluctuating emotional curves on the screen.

"She shouldn't have been there, she shouldn't have been next to him."

Theodore's tone carried a hint of dissatisfaction, not directed at Lin Zheng, but at Emilia's "overstepping of boundaries."

"The Vincent family is an important part of the 'Deep Sleepers' system, and its stability is crucial to the overall situation."

"Amelia's 'mental potential energy' has fluctuated abnormally in the past few weeks, which is directly related to her involvement with Lin Zheng."

"We cannot allow any non-core members to interfere with our core operations."

Isabella's eyes lit up slightly.

"My assessment report indicates that Lin Zheng's contact with Emilia activated certain uncontrollable 'interactions'."

"Based on his activity patterns the previous night and analysis of his use of electronic devices, he appears to have developed a new understanding of the city's 'digital topography' after leaving the Vincent family mansion."

Theodore's eyes darkened, and he clasped his index fingers together.

This speculation touches on one of the company's core secrets—the digital erasure areas are not only for social isolation, but also for physically isolating certain "abnormal points" that may threaten the "stability of the dream."

Theodore raised an eyebrow, and Isabella continued.

"This means that he is piecing together the underlying logic of how the world works in his own unique way."

Theodore turned his back and walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, looking down at the city shrouded in smog.

"What he saw was the truth derived from rotting flesh and blood. The narrative construction department did not fail in its duties; we underestimated him."

The spires of the tall buildings pierced the morning mist, like a sharp blade aimed at the sky.

"These fragments of truth, like a virus, if allowed to spread, will cause irreparable damage to the entire narrative of the American Dream."

"However, his focus is currently limited to the grassroots level and has not yet reflected any political goals."

Isabella's voice rang out again, pulling Theodore back to reality.

"What he did was 'private justice' on a case-by-case basis; he rescued those 'nightmare fuels' that were most easily discarded."

"Our data models show that these acts of 'private justice' can, to some extent, inspire hope among the underprivileged, causing them to be torn between hope and despair."

"In some cases, the existence of this 'pressure valve' can also help prevent larger-scale, uncontrollable social unrest."

Theodore slowly turned around, and a smile returned to his face.

There was a hint of unfathomable amusement in that smile.

"You mean, we can allow a virus to 'treat' some symptoms?"

Isabella handed over the report, displaying it on the screen while explaining her proposal.

"Yes, within a controllable range, he might become a new tool for us to maintain stability."

"We can use information control to solve problems that we cannot directly intervene in."

"At the same time, through continuous external pressure and mental pollution, we prevented him from truly accessing our core secrets."

"His area of ​​operation has now been precisely located inside the 'incubator' at the bottom level of Emerald Dream City."

"And the group he focuses on is precisely those individuals who generate microscopic 'fragments of despair' that we cannot handle efficiently."

"His existence brings together the originally scattered and disordered 'despair' and points us in the right direction to process and effectively 'digest' it."

Theodore took the report and casually placed it on his desk.

He turned and stared at the bottom of the building, where the crowd looked as small as ants.

"What he did was still 'charity' aimed at individuals, which did not pose a threat to the macro-level 'sacrifice and preservation'."

"It can even effectively slow down the process of a full awakening at the grassroots level, making people willing to believe and do some small good deeds while ignoring the greatest evil."

Theodore nodded, a hint of admiration in his voice.

"Isabella, I need a final assessment report. Elimination, incorporation, or... something else?"

His tone was flat, yet it carried a chill.

Isabella's pupils contracted slightly.

She turned quickly and strode out of Theodore's office, the crisp sound of her high heels echoing on the cold, hard marble floor.

The security monitoring center of American Dream Company features a matrix of dozens of huge screens.

A cold blue light enveloped the entire space, within which countless data streams flowed silently.

This is the company's eye, monitoring the entire country with all-encompassing observation and recording.

Isabella walked to her workstation, pressed the button, and all the screens instantly switched to Lin Zheng's real-time monitoring feed.

He was sitting alone in his simple apartment, his fingers tapping unconsciously on the table under the dim light.

On the screen, various data about Lin Zheng were being updated rapidly: sanity value, mental fluctuations, and predicted movement trajectory.

A voice came from behind Isabella; it was Marcus, the data analyst.

He wore thick glasses, his hair was messy, and he had an e-cigarette between his fingers.

"Sir, based on the current data, he's practically a superman."

Isabella didn't turn around; she stared at Lin Zheng on the screen.

"Continue monitoring and expand the scope of analysis to include everyone who has had close contact with Lin Zheng."

Isabella's tone was completely flat.

"In addition, the fluctuation chart of the 'mental potential energy' of the lower-class people in Emerald Dream City will be used as an auxiliary parameter for assessing Lin Zheng's danger level and will be updated in real time."

Upon hearing this, Marcus immediately returned to work, knowing that his superior's serious attitude towards work was extreme, even somewhat ruthless.

Lin Zheng's figure disappeared from the screen instantly, and the entire monitoring matrix returned to the blue standby interface.

Isabella raised her hand and stroked the barcode tattoo on the back of her neck, near the Reality Stability Department.