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

The sky before dawn was a hazy gray, like an old rag, sticky and damp, tightly covering the sky above Emerald City.

"Squeak—"

A sharp, screeching sound broke the brief silence.

Arthur Morgan's rough hands pushed open a rusty iron door.

This place, once an abandoned small machine shop, has now become their temporary haven.

Lin Zheng leaned wearily against the wall, the dull thumping of his own heartbeat filling his ears, along with the metallic clanging of Arthur inspecting a vehicle not far away.

After several attempts, the engine of that modified old Ford pickup truck finally emitted an unnatural, wheezing roar, like that of a tuberculosis patient.

"For the time being, this place is relatively safe."

Arthur's hoarse voice echoed in the empty factory space, and his figure appeared exceptionally tall in the swaying light and shadow.

Lin Zheng swallowed hard, his throat dry and sore.

"This is not the method of an ordinary gang."

Arthur added, as if talking to himself, his tone heavy with certainty.

"Intelligence networks, reaction speed... there are big shots behind this."

"We're being watched, kid."

He raised his head, his sharp gaze piercing through the darkness, staring directly at Lin Zheng.

"Perhaps they were observing us from the very beginning."

Arthur's words pierced the last vestiges of hope in Lin Zheng's heart.

He realized that his conversation with Arthur at the firm about "Sam's finger bone evidence" and "the viper" might have been completely captured by the organization behind the scenes.

The feeling of being completely seen through is chilling.

"What do we do next? They can't possibly stare at my butt even when I go to the toilet."

Lin Zheng teased in a dry, hoarse voice.

"Heh, they might not be able to spot your butt, but they probably know how many times you go to the toilet every day."

Arthur jumped off the back of the car, then habitually reached inside his trench coat and touched the grip of his Colt Python revolver to calm himself.

"I need an outside helper, a professional who can help us cover our tracks and also handle some 'unconventional' evidence."

Arthur's gaze swept over Lin Zheng's pale face, a complex emotion flashing in his eyes.

"The troubles you're in are more than I can handle on my own."

He paused, his tone becoming heavy.

"They can easily surprise you, and we don't even know who 'they' are."

"Was it suicide if he was shot eight times in the back?"

Lin Zheng burst out laughing. The hellish joke was really funny, and their laughter eased the heavy atmosphere.

I know someone.

Arthur spoke slowly, his voice filled with deep contemplation.

"Evelyn Reed, the forensic pathologist at the public city hospital, is your colleague."

"She has also been investigating some 'accidental deaths' that were hastily closed."

Arthur opened the car door and got in, started the engine, and the engine let out a weak groan, but this time it stabilized.

He looked at Lin Zheng, his eyes filled with a resolute determination to make a desperate gamble.

"Go find her, that's our only option."

Evelyn Reed's existence represents a possibility—

A possibility that could connect the inhuman reality they witnessed with the world's medical and legal systems.

The old pickup truck, carrying two people, slowly drove out of the iron gate of the abandoned factory.

The wheels rolled over the gravel, making a soft, rustling sound that blended with the distant clamor of the city gradually awakening.

Outside the window, the slum scene resembles a faded oil painting.

Those crumbling buildings, dilapidated shop signs, and homeless people huddled on street corners silently tell of the eternal despair of the city's underclass.

Lin Zheng leaned back in his seat, his body swaying with the vehicle's bumps. He tried to use the physical vibrations to shake away the chaotic thoughts and images in his mind.

After entering the city.

The city air gradually became "cleaner," no longer carrying that nauseating stench, but instead filled with the unique smell of the city, a mixture of asphalt and exhaust fumes.

The buildings also transformed from dilapidated red brick houses into neat apartment buildings, and then into towering skyscrapers, each one gleaming with the light of glass and steel.

The country he lives in appears on the surface to be so glamorous, full of money and the "American Dream".

But beneath that thin layer of disguise lies a terrifying reality built from the blood, flesh, and reason of countless people.

The car came to a stop in the huge parking lot of the public hospital, the engine let out a long sigh, and then fell completely silent.

The hospital was isolated from the chaos of the outside world by the crowd.

After they got out of the car, Arthur slung his canvas messenger bag over his shoulder, gripped the Colt Python revolver tightly inside his trench coat with his other hand, and scanned his surroundings warily.

He led Lin Zheng, avoiding crowds and surveillance cameras, skillfully navigating the hospital's maze-like corridors.

Finally, they arrived at an office on a basement floor that had no door number, but had a withered potted plant in front of it.

Arthur knocked on the door, making a dull sound.

"Please come in." A cool, somewhat tired female voice came from inside.

Arthur pushed open the door, and Lin Zheng followed behind him. He immediately saw the woman in the white coat in the office.

She had short, neat brown hair, wore black-rimmed glasses, and had an indelible melancholy and dark circles under her eyes, but her gaze was unusually focused.

She's beautiful, but there's something out of place about her. You know she's pretty, but her presence here is like someone who could make a living off their looks, yet chooses to be treated like a beast of burden.

She carried a strong smell of disinfectant mixed with a faint smell of formaldehyde, which made Lin Zheng feel at ease.

"Morgan? You're a rare guest."

The woman looked up at Arthur, her eyes filled with surprise, but she quickly regained her composure.

"Who is this...?"

Her gaze finally settled on Lin Zheng, a hint of inquiry flashing in her eyes, but her tone remained calm and professional.

"My assistant, Lin, you two are in the same profession."

"Lin Zheng, a mediocre corpse assembler, whose specialty is picking bullets out of the bones."

Arthur gave a concise introduction, and Lin Zheng also showed off his skills in front of the beautiful woman.

"Evelyn, we need your help."

Arthur didn't waste any words and spoke directly, his palms resting on the table and his body leaning slightly forward.

Evelyn pushed up her black-rimmed glasses, her gaze shifting from Lin Zheng's face back to Arthur.

"I'm no longer with the police force, Morgan."

She answered calmly, her tone carrying a hint of detachment.

"You know there's not much I can do."

Arthur shook his head.

"This time is different."

He lowered his voice and recounted in detail the attack on the firm last night and the encounter of "Sam" that Lin Zheng had seen through his "Dream Anatomy" ability.

He described all the seemingly absurd and bizarre details in the calmest and most objective language possible, trying to convince this rational forensic doctor.

Evelyn listened quietly, her brows furrowing slightly.

She would occasionally glance at Lin Zheng, trying to discern the absurdity of Arthur's claim of "peeking into the memories of the dead" on his pale face.

"Morgan, are you telling me he can talk to the dead?"

"It's not speaking, it's reading, it's seeing."

Arthur shook his head, then pointed at Lin Zheng.

"Just as you can determine the cause of death from a wound, he can see the strongest emotions and fragments of memories from the flesh and blood of the deceased."

Evelyn's gaze fell on Lin Zheng again, her expression filled with inquiry and scrutiny.

"I want to believe your story, Morgan."

She pushed up her glasses and said in a calm but firm tone.

"But I need evidence, evidence that can break down all scientific explanations... the kind of evidence."

She turned and walked toward a heavy metal door deep inside the office, a door that exuded an even deeper chill and pointed toward the dark entrance to the morgue.

Evelyn walked at the front; her white coat looked somewhat thin under the lights, but her steps were exceptionally firm.

Lin Zheng followed closely behind to the morgue. He let out a long sigh of relief, feeling a sense of familiarity and relaxation, as if he had returned home.

Inside the morgue, the metal table reflected the stark white light of the operating lights.

The spacious and clean environment here is much better than Lin Zheng's previous workplace.

Rows of corpses covered with white sheets lay silently on the trolleys; their very existence was a series of silent question marks.

Evelyn walked straight to a metal table against the wall and pointed to a corpse completely covered with a white sheet.

"This was discovered three days ago. It was an unidentified female corpse. The official report states that it was an accidental death caused by self-harm following a drug overdose."

"But my gut feeling tells me that things aren't that simple."

She lifted the white cloth covering the woman's head, revealing a pale, distorted face.

"Evelyn's suspicions about the 'accidental death' case in the hospital started a long time ago, but the authorities have always given evasive answers," Arthur whispered to Lin Zheng as he walked over.

Lin Zheng let out a long sigh of relief, took out disposable medical gloves from his pocket, and put them on.

He knew that this was not just a corpse, but a private world of another person filled with pain that he was about to forcibly intrude into.

Every touch means pouring all the suffering of the deceased into the depths of his soul.

He told himself that this was not for spying, but to allow these nameless dead to make their final voices heard.

He slowly reached out, his gloved fingertips trembling as they touched the cold, stiff arm of the unidentified female corpse.

In that instant, a chilling cold and excruciating pain pierced through his glove, reaching deep into his bone marrow.

It wasn't physical pain, but an overwhelming psychological shock—

He felt as if he had fallen into an abyss of screams and cries.

Everything around him became blurry and distorted, and Evelyn and Arthur's faces became swaying phantoms in his eyes.

A hoarse, corrosive voice began to whisper in my ear—

The voice came from the female corpse.

He was forced to watch as a nightmare unfolded that no one knew about—

This is a brutal story about the crushed "American Dream" and the depravity of the soul, far beyond his imagination.

Lin Zheng's body trembled violently, and he could barely stand.

His mind was filled with horrific images and endless screams, and his rational defenses trembled with a desperate wail amidst the silent wailing.

Before he could even scream, he was completely consumed by the spiritual purgatory of the dead.