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

Lin Zheng swung his scalpel forward, slicing through the air. The cold blade precisely cut through the brightest and thickest main structural vein on the filthy womb.

In that instant, the light in the sewer seemed to be sucked into an invisible black hole, and the entire space suddenly fell into a brief silence, followed by a deafening tearing sound.

It wasn't the roar of an explosion, but a huge, dull thud as if tissue and life were being forcibly severed.

Lin Zheng felt an overwhelming force erupt violently from the cut main vein, from which viscous, foul-smelling gray tissue fluid gushed out.

The enormous "filthy womb" stopped wriggling; it seemed to freeze for a moment before collapsing inside, disintegrating inch by inch from the inside out.

Countless chunks of meat, large and small, shot out in all directions, clogging the entire main sewage pipe.

They were not killed, but rather forced to undergo a deeper proliferation pattern, completely losing control in pain, with each tiny part frantically splitting and growing, yet lacking a unified will.

It was a thick, putrid downpour, with countless chunks of flesh slamming against the metal pipe walls with muffled "plop" sounds before falling downwards under gravity.

The moment Lin Zheng leaped up and slashed through the main meridian, he lunged forward, avoiding the most direct impact. The space behind his body was quickly filled.

Thick, sticky tissue fluid, mixed with bits of flesh, splattered over him, wet, cold, and slippery, completely enveloping him.

His vision was shrouded in a hazy gray; only through his eyes, activated by his ability's "True Deconstruction," could he discern a glimmer of life amidst the chaotic flow of flesh.

The fleeting gap that forms between the meat and the tube wall.

Without the slightest hesitation, he tumbled around in the icy sewage, squeezing through the narrow gap like an eel.

His body ached from being scraped by the slippery surface of the flesh and the rough inner walls of the pipe, but under the intense pain, his instinct for survival took over.

He felt a huge lump of flesh slam down on his back, completely sealing off all the gaps behind him and isolating him from the chaos behind him.

Success! At the critical moment!

The shouts and gunshots of the cleanup team that had been echoing in their ears were now replaced by the loud "gurgling" sounds of the monsters multiplying out of control and the sound of sticky chunks of flesh falling from behind.

The occasional screams that followed were quickly drowned out.

The relentless "Ouroboros" squad members, caught completely off guard by the sudden "rain of filthy flesh," were mercilessly engulfed by chunks of meat.

Their gunfire became chaotic and rapid in an instant, then was swallowed up by a series of chilling chewing sounds.

The sound was no longer the hunger and emptiness before the "filthy womb," but rather the flesh chunks that had split out of control, intertwined with each other in extreme thirst, greedily devouring everything they could reach.

The sounds of metal clashing with ammunition, the soldiers' desperate shouts and struggles gradually faded amidst the stench of decaying flesh, eventually being completely suppressed, leaving only the cracking of bones breaking and the gurgling of flesh being torn apart.

Lin Zheng did not turn back; he knew the price of looking back.

Blood loss made him feel cold all over, and waves of sharp pain came from his left arm. His vision began to blur, and the tinnitus became more and more severe, but adrenaline was still surging in his body, urging him to keep moving forward.

He had no choice but to move forward.

The main sewage pipe became rugged and narrow. The sewage, which was originally just filthy, was now contaminated by the remains of the meat chunks, becoming even more viscous. Every step felt like wading through a swamp.

The surroundings were pitch black, with only a few emergency lights flickering occasionally. The light danced on the damp walls, casting his shadow long and distorted.

His heavy breathing echoed through the narrow tube, the reverberation amplifying his exhaustion.

He gripped the cold, slippery pipe wall and struggled to move forward.

My body has reached its limit.

Although the blood flow to my left arm slowed down due to the low temperature and muscle contraction, the dizziness caused by blood loss became increasingly intense, and my legs felt as heavy as lead.

But he dared not stop completely.

Although the screams behind him had disappeared, the eerie silence in that area was more unsettling than any commotion. He knew it was not peaceful silence, but the whisper of the abyss.

Moreover, that elite squad couldn't have been so easily wiped out.

Lin Zheng stumbled forward until a spacious underground space appeared ahead.

This place is much more spacious than the previous pipes; it is a hall in this huge underground castle. Above is a complex network of pipes, countless pipes intertwined and emitting a low rumble.

He staggered a few steps, leaning against the thick metal pipe wall, barely managing to support himself.

The damp, cold air was thick with the stench of decay and dampness, but he needed a chance to catch his breath.

He forced himself to stand up, tore off a corner of his clothes that was soaked with sewage, and used it to barely bandage the wound on his left arm, trying to stop the still-seeping blood.

The pain brought him to his senses a little more, but it also made him even more exhausted.

His parched throat caused him to cough softly.

He surveyed the vast underground space in the dim light.

Each passage leads to unknown depths, where darkness and dampness, warmth and decay all beckon to him.

After careful examination, Lin Zheng finally chose a tunnel that was clearly different from the other pipelines.

This tunnel has no metal pipe walls, but is made of rough rock and soil, making it look even older and more primitive. Its entrance is supported by some rotten wooden beams, which seem to be on the verge of collapsing at any moment.

He shone the beam of his flashlight deep into the tunnel, where the light revealed mud mixed with an unusual, nauseating substance, grayish-white, like solidified grease.

He hadn't gone far when the previously faint smell of putrid grease became so strong it almost solidified in the air, cloyingly sweet and pungent, yet carrying a hint of the stench of a stillborn fetus, causing him to cough repeatedly.

He gripped the scalpel tightly, taking each step with utmost care.

As he ventured deeper, the tunnel became increasingly spacious and bizarre.

The beam of the flashlight swayed in front of him, and the scene it illuminated caused Lin Zheng's pupils to suddenly contract.

Before him was a huge "hill".

It is not made of rock or soil, but rather of solidified, grayish-white grease and garbage, which occupy the center of the entire underground space.

This is the truth behind the "fat mountain".

It soars into the clouds, its enormous size beyond imagination, as if an ancient, forgotten monster had its internal organs emptied here, leaving it to become a vast, ever-expanding solidified ruin.

The grease reflected a ghostly light in the dim light, like some kind of malignant tumor, its surface pitted and uneven, exuding an odor that was a mixture of sweetness and decay.

Lin Zheng's flashlight beam extended upwards, but could not reach the "mountain top".

This is a mountain formed from the city's indigestible waste, fat, meat scraps, and unidentifiable excrement.

Around this foul-smelling mountain, sewage has formed a murky "lake" in which countless unidentified debris and garbage float.

Lin Zheng subconsciously held his breath, his stomach churning again, but he endured it.

His gaze was drawn to the bottom of the "mountain of fat," where countless tiny, multicolored spots were embedded in the grayish-white grease—garbage swallowed up within it, or rather, items that once belonged to the living.

The flashlight beam stopped steadily in one spot, and what came into Lin Zheng's view was a faded family photo.

The men, women, and children in the photo are all smiling brightly. Their faces have become blurred after being covered in grease for many years, leaving only some stiff smiles frozen on the yellowed paper.

It was flattened and corroded, but in such harsh conditions, it still managed to barely maintain the outline of a family.

Beside it, a dirty teddy bear, covered in grease, was half-buried in the grease, one eye had fallen out, and its tattered fur was stuck with brown grime.

Further down, deeper still, a pale, waxy human hand emerged from the solidified grease, its five fingers spread as if trying to grasp something.

The hand had lost all color, so pale it didn't look alive, and it appeared eerily strange in the dim light and greasy reflection.

This Fat Mountain bears witness to too many cruel physical evidences of life and death forgotten by the city, which ultimately converge here.

These fragmented, old objects, shrouded in grease and garbage, silently tell the story of countless sacrificed "American Dreams." Those lives that once existed vibrantly ultimately became landmarks of this underground world in this filthy form.

A mass grave where graves and corpses were abandoned.