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

The modified all-terrain vehicle shook violently before crashing into a mountain of discarded tires in the repair shop with a muffled thud, sending dust flying.

The carriage was filled with the pungent smell of chlorine. Lin Zheng felt a burning pain in his throat, and a tearing pain in his lungs made him cough violently. Tears streamed down his face, and his vision blurred.

Ignoring his eyes, which were red from the smoke, Jeremy Woods practically tumbled out of the driver's seat, his movements efficient and swift.

He deftly opened the car door, and the cold air rushed in, diluting the tear gas inside the car and bringing a brief respite.

Lena carefully dragged and carried Arthur Morgan out of the car. Arthur's body was heavy and stiff, and he groaned in pain with every movement.

Arthur Morgan's face was as pale as an old map, his forehead was covered in cold sweat, and his life force was slowly draining away.

Lena's special combat suit was soaked in blood, making it even darker. Her face was a mixture of exhaustion and anxiety, and her eyes were fixed on Arthur's wound.

Lin Zheng held onto the car door, enduring the burning sensation in his lungs, and moved his body slowly and laboriously.

He gasped for breath, trying to get more fresh air into his lungs to dispel the suffocating pain.

The world before him appeared distorted and chaotic in the blurry tears and gas irritation; he needed time to readjust his senses.

The interior of this abandoned auto repair shop comes into view; it is dilapidated and vast.

The air was thick with the smells of engine oil, rust, dust, and some unidentifiable stale, decaying odor, creating a unique and oppressive atmosphere.

On the broken roof, a few narrow beams of light struggled to penetrate the layers of obstruction, casting dappled light on the ground and illuminating the rusty tools and the wreckage of abandoned vehicles.

The surrounding abandoned vehicles, like the forgotten skeletons of monsters, were piled up haphazardly, their paint peeling off and metal exposed. It silently tells the story of the erosion of time.

This place, once a "graveyard" for countless cars, has now become a temporary refuge for these outlaws.

Lin Zheng found a relatively flat and cleaner-looking corner among the discarded engines, tires, and tool fragments, and sat down with difficulty.

He tried to calm his racing heart and chaotic thoughts with deep breaths.

His fingertips unconsciously tapped lightly on the scrap metal beside him; the cold, rough touch allowed him to regain a little connection with reality.

This is a unique habit; the rhythm of the tapping is like an internal "formatting" command that helps him reorder the chaotic and desperate fragments of memories he brought from Finch's laboratory in order to maintain his precarious sanity.

Lena carefully laid Arthur Morgan flat on the ground, unfastened his special combat suit, revealing shocking wounds.

She took bandages and disinfectant from the first aid kit in the modified all-terrain vehicle, her movements gentle and professional, trying to avoid causing Arthur any more pain.

"Evelyn, are you listening? His wound has reopened, and he's losing a lot of blood," Lina said in a trembling voice into the communicator, her voice pleading.

Evelyn Reed's voice came through the communicator clearly, carrying the calmness and precision characteristic of a forensic pathologist. Even in this environment, she maintained her professional demeanor.

"I heard you. Lina, listen to me, clean up the blood around him immediately, then wipe the edges of the wound with rubbing alcohol or the highest concentration of alcohol to prevent infection." Evelyn's instructions were clear and organized, without a trace of panic.

"Then, use the hemostatic gauze in the first aid kit to find the blood vessel with the most severe bleeding, press down with your maximum force for at least five minutes, and at the same time observe his breathing rate and pupil response."

Evelyn's voice echoed in the quiet repair shop. Lin Zheng felt that she was not only providing medical advice, but also offering a sense of reassurance to their precarious hearts with her steady tone.

He imagined Evelyn in a brightly lit laboratory, meticulously analyzing data, trying to find order and hope amidst the chaos.

Lin Zheng looked up at Jeremy Woods, who did not join the rescue but walked straight towards the modified all-terrain vehicle.

Jeremy walked around the car, his sharp eyes scrutinizing the chassis, tires, and body joints, meticulously examining every scratch.

He crouched down, his fingers tracing under the hood and around the wheels, feeling for dents in the metal and broken wires.

The modified all-terrain vehicle was severely damaged, with multiple dents in the body, flattened tires, and shattered glass. Jeremy Woods had a furrowed brow and a serious expression.

This level of damage is enough for anyone to immediately determine that the vehicle is no longer able to move.

Lin Zheng knew that this meant they would have to stay here for a while, waiting for repairs or finding new transportation, which undoubtedly increased the risk of exposure.

Just then, Ava Sterling's voice came through the communicator to Lin Zheng's ears again, still carrying that detached calmness, but also a complex emotion that could not be ignored.

"I know your situation is not good right now," Ava Sterling said calmly, as if she were commenting on a bad business report rather than speaking to a group of outlaws.

"I have obtained some more information about Project Lullaby and Ochre Labyrinth State through my intelligence network, which may provide you with some new directions."

As soon as Ava Sterling finished speaking, Lin Zheng's heart tightened.

The name "Lullaby" sank into the depths of Lin Zheng's consciousness like a cold stone.

He recalled the jumbled data he had intercepted from the abandoned servers of Finch Labs: massive mental interventions, specific sound wave patterns, and the chilling "mental imprinting" technology.

In Lin Zheng's understanding, the world has long been controlled by a technology called "wide-area mental imprinting and narrative broadcasting," which shapes the public's thinking at all times through media, GG, and education.

But his understanding of the "lullaby" project may be a more invasive and efficient "cognitive weapon".

He tried to recall his previous conversations with Ava and Lina, the idea that sound waves could directly affect the brain and reshape people's emotions and beliefs, which filled him with an unprecedented sense of vigilance.

"If it can really achieve this level, then it's not just a propaganda tool, but a form of life manipulation. The very foundation of societal cognition could be formed under its 'weaving'," Lin Zheng muttered to himself, his voice filled with indescribable bitterness and anger.

"So, is the free will we believe in just a carefully designed illusion from the very beginning?"

He recalled the cold "sacrifice and conservation" law in "The Mechanism of the World".

This principle states that the stability of the world requires a continuous input of spiritual energy, and this energy comes from humanity's "fall from hope to despair".

If the "Lullaby" project is the mastermind behind all this, precisely manipulating people's emotions, giving hope at the right time and crushing it at the crucial moment, then the country itself is a huge, sophisticated "emotional harvesting factory."

Those who are swept up in the struggle of the "American Dream," whether they are "dream builders" or "sleepwalkers," are nothing more than biological tools that produce "spiritual food" on time in this huge machine.

"This means that everything we've experienced, from every blow of unemployment to every broken relationship, even every blind faith in the 'American Dream,' may just be part of its elaborate design." Lena bit her lip, her eyes burning with suppressed anger.

She clenched her hands, stained with Arthur's blood, into tight fists, her nails digging deep into her palms.

This realization filled her with more despair than any scene of carnage she had ever witnessed.

It is not a physical disability, but a stolen soul and a stolen mind. Everyone is trapped in an invisible cage, and the guardian of this cage is their own deepest "hope".

Ava Sterling's voice came again, carrying a faint sigh that Lin Zheng had never heard before, as if even she could not completely escape the heaviness brought about by this truth.

"My staff, through analysis of the latest information flow, confirmed that 'Lullaby' is indeed a highly confidential long-term research project, led by a department within 'American Dream' Corporation that operates independently of the regular structure." Ava's words struck Lin Zheng's heart like a hammer blow, confirming his suspicions one by one.

"Its core principle lies in directly intervening in the limbic system of the brain through a complex sound wave pattern, regulating the secretion of neurotransmitters such as dopamine and serotonin, thereby 'inducing' the generation and disintegration of specific emotions, as well as the solidification of cognitive patterns."

Although Ava's voice was professional, Lin Zheng heard it clearly. His "dream anatomy" ability allowed him to glimpse the bloody truth behind these terms.

He could sense that the air was filled not only with engine oil and rust, but also with countless invisible streams of information, intertwined and entangled like a giant net.

Some of these information flows carry false hope, while others induce despair, and "Lullaby" is the "weaver" that precisely controls the direction of these flows.

This feeling was clearer and more real than when he "read" the remnants of a corpse's dream.

Deep within his mind, it was as if an invisible gear was slowly turning, trying to forcibly summarize and integrate this chaotic and terrifying information.

"These information streams can directly modify a person's 'cognitive filter'," Lin Zheng said in a low voice, a hint of understanding flashing in his eyes, but also a deeper fear.

"It doesn't tell you what's true, but rather it makes you fundamentally 'believe' what it shows you."

"That's right." Ava didn't refute it; her voice sounded even more distant through the communicator, as if she were looking down on everything from some higher place.

"Once this system is fully operational, it can completely eliminate the possibility of the existence of 'free will'."

Lin Zheng felt an unprecedented chill rush from his tailbone straight to the top of his head.

He had always thought he could see through the truth through "dream anatomy" and use it to rebel against the world, but now he realized that perhaps his "rebellion" itself might be a "bug" set up by "Lullaby", or a "negative feedback mechanism" to calibrate the stable operation of the entire system.

"It doesn't matter where we escape to now. As long as we're still in this country, we'll never escape their control." Lina's voice was filled with despair and indignation.

She gripped Arthur's hand tightly, as if confirming the last vestige of reality she could hold onto.

"No, there is still a glimmer of hope. That is the 'Ochre Labyrinth State'." Ava's voice interrupted Lina's pessimism and drew their attention back to the new refuge.

"This is a special place; it has blind spots in the company's monitoring network, and some data has been encrypted and hidden."

The information Ava had mentioned earlier came to Lin Zheng's mind: the deepest part of the Central Rust Zone, a blank space erased from the map, a remote early settlement.

The Central Rust Zone, a vast and dilapidated land, was once the backbone of industrial giants, but now it has become the main production area of ​​"flesh and blood" and a corner completely abandoned by the "American Dream".

There are ruins like "Abandoned Car City" filled with mutated creatures, and places like "Ohaitun Mining Town" that are rich in otherworldly minerals and where people numb themselves with opioids.

It also has areas like "Rustland," where doomsday cults run rampant and prey on desperate believers.

The name "Ochre Maze State" was no longer just a place name to Lin Zheng; it carried an ancient and mysterious aura.

Ochre, a red or yellow natural mineral pigment, was often used in prehistoric art and rituals of ancient civilizations.

This word reminded Lin Zheng of the blood sacrifice rituals buried deep within this continent and the forgotten ancient legends of Native American gods.

"Maze State" suggests a kind of spatial distortion or information obscuring, and has a hidden connection with the "Reality Distortion Zone" that he knows.

"Remoteness means the unknown," Lin Zheng muttered to himself, Ava's warning echoing in his ears once again.

This unknown is not merely a geographical gap, but also a ambiguity in the laws governing it.

This area is not fully under the company's control and is a blind spot in its monitoring, which is itself a major anomaly.

According to the description in "The Mechanism of the World", in areas where mental stress is extremely concentrated, the curtain of reality thins, allowing the logic and matter of dreams to seep in.

The long-standing sense of despair in the rusty central region may have made the "distortion of reality" there more widespread and severe, or rather, the "dream logic" there has never been fully assimilated and transformed by the company's "narrative construction department".

This could be a safe haven, or it could be a more dangerous trap, a realm dominated by ancient existence or the logic of out-of-control dreams.

Lin Zheng felt a conflicting mix of longing and fear.

He yearns for the truth, but the price of the truth is often the loss of reason, or even the end of life.

"Ava, 'Ochre Labyrinth State'... Besides being remote, is there any other information?" Lin Zheng gripped the communicator tightly, his voice carrying a hint of urgency that he himself didn't realize.

"That area was once the border between early colonists and indigenous tribes, with many abandoned old mines and farms, as well as some towns whose names have been erased," Ava's answer was filled with the coldness of a history book.

"Based on the remaining fragments of intelligence, some of the terrain and architecture there are related to the primitive beliefs of the local indigenous people. The specifics... my personnel are still trying to decipher them."

Ava's pause stirred a sense of unease in Lin Zheng. It sounded more like a wild land that had not yet been fully tamed, a place possibly filled with ancient curses and undiscovered marks of the past.

He was reminded of the legends in "The Origin of the World" about "the Faceless Gold Diggers" and "Whispers on the Rails," those terrifying stories related to gods and blood sacrifices deep within the continent.

This place is less a refuge and more the entrance to another labyrinth.

Lena did not participate in the discussions about place names and projects; all her attention was focused on Arthur.

With trembling hands, she gently wiped Arthur Morgan's cheek, letting out low, worried sobs, her eyes filled with helplessness.

Evelyn Reed's voice came through the communicator, her tone slightly softer, carrying a hint of weariness yet firm encouragement.

"Lina, you've done a great job. I'm currently using satellite imagery to search for alternative medical facilities you might be able to find, or at least temporary supply points that can sustain you until you safely reach the Ochre Labyrinth State."

Evelyn's words were like a shot of adrenaline, easing Lina's tense nerves a little.

"Lin Zheng, listen to me now." Ava Sterling's voice rang out again, her tone more serious than ever before, carrying an unquestionable command.

"Jeremy, I've detected drones entering your airspace. They're releasing a new scanning frequency, and your hiding place may be discovered soon."

"The Ochre Maze is your only option. I will mark a route on the map for you that avoids known surveillance as much as possible."

"But once inside, all communication will be cut off. You must rely on your own judgment and strength."

"Good luck to you." Ava's tone returned to its usual indifference. Then, the communicator made a brief static sound before losing signal completely, leaving only cold, deathly silence.

After inspecting the modified all-terrain vehicle, Jeremy Woods' expression became even more grave, clearly indicating that the situation was not optimistic.

He walked over to Lin Zheng and said in a low voice, "It will take at least four hours to repair the car to a point where it can barely be driven. The engine needs a thorough overhaul, and several important circuit boards have been damaged."

Lin Zheng's heart sank upon hearing this. Four hours was an astronomical amount of time for them.

The company's armed drones could come looking for them at any moment, and they have very little time left.

Just then, a slight and unique vibration came from outside the repair shop. It was a rhythmic hum, accompanied by subtle pressure fluctuations in the air.

Jeremy Woods' face turned deathly pale instantly. He turned around abruptly, his eyes fixed sharply on the dilapidated gate of the repair shop.

He stretched out his hand, making a "shush" gesture, indicating that everyone should remain absolutely silent; every movement revealed his highly tense nerves.

Lina stopped what she was doing and looked warily in the direction from which the sound came, the bandage in her hand slipping to the ground.

Despite his serious injuries, Arthur Morgan seemed to sense the danger. His body trembled slightly, and his muffled groans were suppressed in his throat.

Lin Zheng's heart pounded violently in his chest, the sound as clear as a drumbeat in his ears.

He tried to pinpoint the source of the sound, and the words Ava had warned him earlier came to mind: "The drone has entered your airspace."

The familiar yet terrifying buzzing sound grew closer, as if an invisible net of death was slowly but surely tightening.

On the distant horizon, a tiny black dot is rapidly growing larger, trailing a faint reflection that stands out starkly in the last rays of twilight.

The black dot quickly transformed into a clear outline—an armed drone, with the company logo faintly visible on the side of the aircraft.

It was flying rapidly toward the repair shop, like a cold and ruthless predator, carrying the will of the company's top decision-makers, determined not to give up until it achieved its goal.

Lin Zheng's heart was pounding violently in his chest, as if it were about to burst out of his chest.

An unnamed chill swept over him again, making him feel even more suffocated than when he used tear gas.

Has this shelter, this place they thought they could briefly respite, already been exposed?

The drone's buzzing grew closer, causing the entire dilapidated structure of the repair shop to tremble slightly, and the sheet metal rattled.

Jeremy Woods stared intently at the ceiling, his knuckles white as he gripped the submachine gun tightly in his hand.

Lin Zheng clenched his fist. His intuition told him that the real trouble had just begun. Could they turn the tide again?

Let reading always be a chapter faster than others.