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

Lin Zheng sat cross-legged on the floor of the apartment's living room, with a pile of messy clothes and tools spread out in front of him. These were once a few old shirts, an Arab robe, some colorful pieces of fabric, and a marker.

Smith and Sam burst in with fried chicken and beer, their faces still flushed with the excitement of their earlier outburst.

"So, Lin, what's our next step?" Sam asked casually, placing the fried chicken on the coffee table, his voice carrying a hint of rugged anticipation.

"We can't use our fists anymore," Lin Zheng finally spoke, his gaze shifting from the fabric on the ground to the two of them, a hint of excitement in his eyes. "At least not just fists."

Smith nearly spat out his beer, but Sam handed him a piece of fried chicken to stuff in his mouth. He mumbled, "What? You're not kidding, are you? Bob said he'd beat them until they repent!"

"That's right, we need to make them repent."

Lin Zheng nodded firmly. He picked up a piece of green cloth and drew a blurry pattern on it with a marker.

"But there are many ways to repent. Sometimes, mental humiliation is far more effective and lasting than physical pain."

Sam scratched his head, his face full of confusion. He was a pure action-oriented person, and this roundabout way puzzled him.

"University campus," Lin Zheng suddenly said, his gaze turning to the window. Although the night sky outside was hazy over Emerald Dream City, in his imagination, an absurd scene was already unfolding there.

"Universities?" Smith raised an eyebrow, quickly realizing what he meant. "You mean, fix them at the universities?"

"That's right." Lin Zheng's lips curled into a smile. "Do you know what the most powerful weapon on university campuses is right now? It's not professors' papers, nor students' clubs, but... political correctness."

"Political correctness?" Sam muttered. The term was somewhat unfamiliar to him. He only knew that some things could be said and some things couldn't be said, but he rarely thought about the logic behind them.

"That's right."

Lin Zheng put down the fabric in his hand, took a bottle of beer, opened it, and clinked glasses with Smith and Sam.

"Political correctness. It is an invisible yet exceptionally strong shield, and at the same time, an invincible sword. It can make the most absurd statements seem impeccable, and it can make the most legitimate rebuttals seem outrageous."

He glanced at Smith, then tossed his fashionable everyday clothes to him: "Smith, you're from a wealthy family, you should have more connections in your circle. What do you think of the current calls for 'anti-racism' in society?"

Smith paused, then shrugged. "What are you looking at? It's just a group of people taking to the streets to protest and fight for their rights. There are a lot of these kinds of events at universities. A girl I used to date participated several times, and she even painted her face different colors, saying it was for the experience."

"Experience?"

Lin Zheng raised an eyebrow, a playful and sly smile curving his lips.

"So, what do you think would happen if someone in this country did something very 'outrageous' in the name of 'anti-racism'?"

Smith thought for a moment, then his eyes began to gleam with amusement: "Uh... usually, if it's not too outrageous, the media will downplay it, and the university will make a big deal out of it, since nobody wants to be labeled as 'discriminatory.' You won't... hehehe."

Lin Zheng didn't answer Smith directly; instead, his gaze shifted to Sam's face: "Sam, have you heard of 'animal rights activists' and 'vegetarians'?"

Sam nodded. He saw people dressed in strange clothes and holding signs at the docks every day: "Oh, I know, they're the ones who don't allow meat or fur. It's a bit annoying. Last time, a woman almost snatched the beef I was unloading from the truck."

"So what if we carried these labels and did some 'righteous' things on the university campus? What do you think would happen?" Lin Zheng's lips curled up, a hint of mockery flashing in his eyes.

Sam's expression shifted from confusion to sudden understanding, then to a hint of excitement. He wiped the grease from his mouth. "You mean... we're using these pretexts, and then... hey, that sounds interesting!"

"Of course it's interesting." Lin Zheng patted the old fabric beside him. "No one would dare touch someone who is holding up an 'anti-racism' flag, wearing 'veganism' and 'animal rights' armbands, and also wearing clothing that symbolizes a specific culture."

"Furthermore, we go a step further; we raise the banner representing the 'LGBTQIA+' community to uphold justice." Lin Zheng picked up the rainbow-colored fabric in front of him.

Smith froze, then burst into maniacal laughter, laughing so hard he almost spilled his beer. "Oh my god, Lin! What's wrong with your head? Genius! Pure black humor, hellish joke!"

Sam grinned, his usually affable face now radiating a rugged shrewdness: "So we're going to beat those Japanese devils senseless, and then have them labeled as 'discriminatory'?"

"No, we won't do it again." Lin Zheng's tone was calm, but his gaze was frighteningly firm. "We just want them to know what true fear is. Fear so much that whenever they see us, they'll think of hell, of all the humiliation they've suffered. Bob Ray said we need to make them repent. And repentance often comes from the deepest shame and fear in their hearts."

He picked up the Arabian robe, its material rough, but enough to create a vague, exotic image. Lin Zheng unfolded it and used a marker to draw an abstract, totem-like pattern around the hem of the robe—a "traditional" design he had casually found online.

"We can say that this robe is the traditional clothing of a certain ethnic minority in the Middle East, or that it is meant to express support for a specific culture," Lin Zheng explained. "In this way, any attack on us could be interpreted as racial discrimination, religious intolerance, or even an offense against minority cultures."

Smith leaned closer, pointing to a noticeable seam flaw on the robe: "Hey, won't this give us away? What if someone recognizes it, or questions our cultural appropriation?"

"Who would look closely in that situation?" Lin Zheng retorted, his tone tinged with disdain. "In such settings, people tend to focus on symbols, not details. Besides, we can add vague slogans like 'cultural diversity, inviolable' to muddy the waters even further."

Sam crumpled the empty beer can, making a "crunch" sound. "What about these... armbands, flags, and stuff?"

Lin Zheng picked up the green cloth and wrote "VEGAN POWER" and "ANIMALS HAVE RIGHTS" on it with a marker. Then he roughly sewed them into an armband.

"This," Lin Zheng said, shaking his armband, "shows that we are staunch vegetarians and animal rights activists. If they dare to lay a hand on us, they are oppressing life and discriminating against our dietary habits—it's adding insult to injury."

He picked up the rainbow flag again and wrote "LOVE WINS" crookedly on the white stripes of the flag with a black marker.

"And this," he held up the flag, a strange light gleaming in his eyes, "this flag represents all those who fight for love and identity. If we bring it to campus and do something to 'protect our rights,' who dares to stop us? Who dares to question us?"

"That's awesome!" Sam jumped up excitedly. He imitated Lin Zheng, sticking the rainbow flag on his back like a flag being planted in Peking Opera. "I can practically foresee tomorrow's headlines! 'Japanese students face cultural justice backlash for discriminating against minorities/Muslims/vegetarians/LGBTQ+ groups!'"

A strange fire burned in Smith's eyes as well: "We need to go further. We need to make them see us as if we were a combination of all the labels they can't refute."

Lin Zheng picked up another piece of yellow fabric, quickly cut it, and then drew a green leaf symbol representing environmental protection on it, with the words "SAVE OUR PLANET" written below.

"We can say we are 'environmental pioneers'," Lin Zheng explained, sewing the new armband onto his robe. "If they dare to mess with us, they are destroying the environment and ignoring the future of the planet."

The living room quickly transformed into a small workshop, filled with the snip of scissors, the soft rustling of needle and thread through fabric, and the scratching of markers on cloth, all intertwined with Smith and Sam's excited whispers and occasional bursts of laughter.

Smith even started brainstorming their lines when they entered the campus, mimicking a radical he'd seen on a talk show: "I represent all the oppressed, marginalized, and silent! Your discrimination is a desecration of human civilization!"

Sam chuckled sheepishly as he awkwardly tried to tie a sign that read "Peace is not an option, it's a necessity" to his arm. However, because his arm was too thick, he couldn't tie it securely, which made Smith burst into laughter again.

Lin Zheng quietly went about his business, attaching several badges to a prominent position on his robe. Each badge represented a unique group.

For example, a design depicting a woman's fist symbolizes feminism; a hand-drawn star symbolizes Judaism.

Any element that could represent a certain group was given a buff by them in their joy.

"Don't forget this, guys." Smith suddenly pulled an old megaphone from a corner, covered in dust and looking like a discarded prop from a college club. "This will make our 'voice' go further!"

"Sound?" Lin Zheng looked up at the loudspeaker, a thoughtful glint in his eyes. "Perhaps we don't need to speak. A good 'performance' is worth a thousand words."

He envisioned what might happen on campus tomorrow: two Japanese youths surrounded by a group of oddly dressed people, who were covered in labels that all university professors and students had to support.

The more they resist, the more suffocated they become by these labels. This is true humiliation, the "three beatings" that make the other party "repent" from the depths of their heart.

As night deepened, the occasional roar of a car engine drifted in from outside the window, yet the apartment was filled with a strange creative atmosphere that teetered between seriousness and absurdity.

Once all the "props" were ready, Lin Zheng picked up a piece of rainbow fabric from a pile of cloth. It was an LGBTQ+ flag with the words "Stop hatred against minorities" written on it in white marker. Although the workmanship was rough, the intention was clear. He handed it to Smith.

"Smith, this flag is for you." Lin Zheng's eyes were clear, carrying an indescribable determination, but he couldn't help but laugh. "With this, we are the embodiment of justice. Who dares to stop us?"

Smith took the flag, a hint of shock on his face. He hadn't expected Lin Zheng to prepare such a "heavyweight" prop. He took a deep breath, then let out a wild shout, raising the flag high above his head, as if he had truly become a defender of some kind of faith.

Sam waved the rainbow flag that read "love wins," his face bearing a simple yet powerful conviction. Although he didn't quite understand these complex "ideologies," he knew that his brothers' revenge had to be taken.

Lin Zheng also completed his "dressing". He put on the "ethnic costume" that was made from an old robe, which was sewn with various symbolic armbands.

With the three rainbow flags now united, various slogans and ideologies have been adopted, resulting in a fully stacked buff.

He wrote "we are together" on the last rainbow flag.

He saw his lips slightly upturned.

Smith brought the megaphone to his mouth, emitted a few piercing test beeps, and then shouted, "The funniest revenge is the deadliest!"

Sam let out an excited growl.

Wuhu~ Takeoff.

The three exchanged a glance, a look that wasn't simply one of shared hatred, but rather a tacit understanding that trampled and manipulated the absurd rules of the world at will.

The three of them got carried away and started imitating Tarzan's loud shouts and yells, while also chanting various supportive slogans.

It wasn't until Bob, the redneck building supervisor, knocked on the door and warned, "Kids, I know you're excited, but can you also consider the feelings of your neighbors?"

Then they quieted down and started playing a game of "Guan Yu vs. Qin Qiong," throwing out various ideologies like playing cards to discuss who included the most, who was stronger, and who was more frightening.

The two Japanese men, trembling and licking their wounds somewhere, have no idea what they are about to face.

Tomorrow's university campuses will become their stage.

Those two Japanese people will become synonymous with discrimination in full view of everyone.