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

Miskatonic University, high-rise conference room in the administration building, afternoon.

The bright fluorescent tubes emitted a low hum, enveloping everything in a layer of cold, hard white light.

The air was filled with a faint fragrance of coffee and perfume.

Lin Zheng sat at the end of the conference table, his baseball cap pulled low, hiding his tired gaze in the shadows.

Emilia sat beside him, hugging his arm and leaning on his shoulder.

Professor Alistair Finch stood in front of the projection screen, his blond hair gleaming neatly under the lights, his smile flawless.

"Dear colleagues, and our future social changers," Professor Finch's voice was loud and penetrating.

His gaze swept over everyone present, finally lingering for a moment, seemingly unintentionally, on Lin Zheng and Emilia, a slight smile playing on his lips.

"Today, we are gathered here for a grand vision—the 'Psychological Resilience Research Project' under the 'Hope Foundation'."

He stretched out a hand and pointed to an image that suddenly appeared on the projection screen behind him: a smiling homeless man holding a bowl of steaming food, with a vibrant community center in the background.

"We all know that deep within our cities lie forgotten corners."

Professor Finch's tone lowered, tinged with a hint of pity.

"That place is a breeding ground for poverty and despair. Many people become numb to life under the heavy burden of living, and some even turn to self-destruction."

Professor Finch spoke with a look of deep regret and sorrow.

"Our project is designed for these 'souls that are not yet completely numb'."

Professor Finch walked to the conference table and tapped his fingertips lightly on the surface, making a rhythmic sound.

"We hope to help them rediscover the meaning of life, rebuild their inner resilience, and pull them back from the abyss of despair through systematic intervention and guidance."

His vocabulary was precise and seductive, packaging a brutally honest experiment as a noble act of charity.

If Lin Zheng hadn't already known about the man's ugliness, he might have been fooled by his hypocritical tone.

The reason why homeless people are numb is not because they lack so-called resilience, but because everything they have is being slowly and steadily crushed and squeezed out by the huge machine of society, leaving them with no possibility of turning their lives around, until all that is left is flesh and blood to be "harvested".

Professor Finch continued to speak at length about the project's long-term vision, how to use big data analysis, psychological and behavioral correction, and "community co-construction" to help others.

He described it in an almost pious tone, saying that once the project succeeds, it will provide a blueprint for "spiritual revitalization" for the entire society, helping more people "rediscover the American Dream."

Lin Zheng realized that he was building a miniature model of an "ideal state" and was conducting preliminary pilot work.

Emilia whispered in Lin Zheng's ear, "The professor is such a good person. He really cares about those at the bottom of society."

Lin Zheng didn't respond, but just shook his head slightly to indicate that it was a bit cold outside. He pointed to his watch.

He stared at the almost eternal, perfect curve of Professor Finch's lips, which was somewhat jarring.

These so-called "not-yet-completely-numbed souls" were not lambs to be saved for Alistair Finch, but rather sacrifices to be carefully harvested to realize his plan.

The meeting lasted for more than an hour and ended with Professor Finch's passionate concluding remarks.

"May our efforts inject new hope into this era," Professor Finch said, and the audience erupted in applause.

He bowed slightly, accepting the warm congratulations from all sides, especially from pharmaceutical representatives and sponsors.

Lin Zheng and Emilia stood up with the crowd, preparing to leave, but were stopped by Professor Finch.

"Lin, Emilia, could I trouble you for a few minutes?"

His voice was less serious and solemn than it had been on the podium, and more approachable and friendly, now sounding more like that of an approachable elder.

His assistant approached the two men and gestured for them to follow Professor Finch into the private lounge next door.

The lounge is more sophisticatedly furnished than the meeting room, with dark wood furniture exuding a sense of historical weight, and floor-to-ceiling windows offering a glimpse of the shimmering night view of Emerald Dream City.

The flames in the fireplace flickered warmly, but they could not dispel the chilling coldness rising in Lin Zheng's heart.

Professor Finch gestured for them to sit down, and his gaze fell on Lin Zheng again.

"Lin, I've reviewed your previous resume again, and I've found some points that will be very helpful to our research..."

He adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses.

"You have participated in volunteer services for off-campus charitable aid on multiple occasions, and you are particularly good at communicating with those... well, marginalized people in society."

Professor Finch's words have already turned "vagrants" and "marginalized people" into part of his research report, experimental materials that can be observed, controlled, and even "modified".

"Your grassroots experience and theoretical knowledge are both outstanding."

He walked to Lin Zheng's side, put one hand on Lin Zheng's shoulder, and applied slight pressure with his fingertips.

The warmth of that hand traveled through the fabric, but Lin Zheng felt a chill.

"Lin, I need you. Someone like you who truly understands the underlying ecology can definitely make a significant contribution to our research."

Professor Finch turned around and placed both hands on Lin Zheng's shoulders.

"Can you help me extend the resources of the Hope Foundation more effectively to those who truly need our help?"

He did not directly mention recruiting test subjects, but Lin Zheng could already smell the bloodshed in the depths of his words.

"I think you've met a lot of homeless people at the charity canteen before, and many of them are probably excellent examples of our project's 'psychological resilience'."

Professor Finch's smile remained warm as he invited Lin Zheng to participate in this mission that would bring him a sense of honor and accomplishment.

In his eyes, Lin Zheng was the key to those "samples".

Professor Finch straightened up, took a bottle of amber liquid from the exquisite wine cabinet, and slowly poured it into two crystal-clear glasses.

"Let's have a drink, consider this the start of our collaboration."

He handed one of the cups to Lin Zheng, indicating that he didn't need to be so formal.

Lin Zheng took the wine glass, but the icy touch did not bring him any sobriety; instead, it intensified the tremor deep within his heart.

Emilia watched all of this, and she keenly caught the fleeting resistance and anger in the depths of Lin Zheng's eyes, even though he acted almost perfectly.

Professor Finch looked at the two of them with satisfaction in his eyes.

He interpreted Lin Zheng's silence as acceptance and Emilia's concerns as expectations for future "research results".

"I'm looking forward to your performance, Lin. You won't let me down." He patted Lin Zheng's shoulder lightly and turned to walk towards his desk.

Lin Zheng took a deep breath, feeling as if a block of ice was stuck in his throat.

He resisted the urge to splash the liquid in his glass onto Professor Finch's face, mechanically forced a stiff smile, and downed the drink in one gulp.

Then, Lin Zheng took the project materials handed to him by Professor Finch. It was a thick stack of documents with the logo of the "Hope Foundation" printed on it.

He tucked the documents away tightly; they felt heavy.

Leave Professor Finch's private lounge.

A cold draft blew in, brushing against Emilia's soft hair by her ear.

"Lin Zheng, I think Professor Finch... is a bit strange." Emilia's voice was hesitant as she looked at Lin Zheng's profile.

She sensed the oppressive aura emanating from him, a stark contrast to the taciturn yet reserved and calm Lin Zheng she remembered.

Lin Zheng stopped and turned to look at Emilia.

Emilia stared intently into his eyes, into those weary eyes, where a resolute and icy flame she had never seen before ignited.

This made her heart skip a beat.

She opened her mouth, but said nothing; she simply clenched her fists slightly.