ecstasy

The work wasn’t done yet, and [the client] was exhausted.

[Package. Where to put the package]

The most important task remains - what the [client] must accomplish in order to come here:

The tube itself had no signaling system installed. It should have been hidden in the doorframe of an apartment on this floor—embedded in the doorframe of the safe house. That was the proper procedure for this operation; that was how we could proceed to the next step.

However, the [customer] no longer had the strength to move or crawl across a distance of more than ten meters to install it: not to mention the blood trail left by the dragging, which would only make it easier to expose the whereabouts of the package.

Think again, think again. Where should I hide it?

The heart's pumping became weaker, and the pain was gradually covered by numbness--

[The client] knew that they didn’t have much time left.

She scratched the elevator floor, which was lifted up by the previous fight, and rolled the slender round tube into it; with her index finger, which was gradually losing strength and starting to twitch, she pressed the silicone button: Finally, the secret language also transmitted this information via radio.

[The package was placed in the gap between the elevator floorboards].

This is certainly not very safe: as long as local law enforcement agencies and other field staff of Asia-Europe Post are careful enough, the location of the package may be easily exposed.

But [customers] don't have that many options to choose from anymore. She just hopes that the downstream companies that take over are smart enough to make up for her shortcomings.

"Cough, cough, cough."

The [client] spat out a stream of foamy blood, picked up the pocket microphone, and added something into the terminal:

“The most dangerous place is the safest place.”

The content of the words is not so important, but once sent, it declares that the [customer]'s work is completed and the entire task will enter the next stage.

Trembling, she tore the assembled terminal apart and threw it into the gap of the elevator; the parts fell into the elevator shaft, making a tinkling sound.

Although it is not perfect, and even the cost is one's own life.

But in a sense, the client's work was completed - at this moment, she felt that she had more or less realized some of the value that she was born into.

Failure is also a result and is worth accepting; but anger gradually surged out of my heart and wrapped up the concentration just now.

The client's superiors had told her that the package she was responsible for carrying contained a secret that could change the world. Unfortunately, the client herself never had the chance to learn.

She moved her lips for a moment, wanting to utter a few curses, but then decided to save her limited energy:

[Damn it, I really want to know—I really want to know! What is this? What information is this? Why am I dying here? Why me?]

-

No matter how much she cursed her fate, no matter how much she tried to break free from all the resentment - those secrets that she had handled, which were enough to shake the whole world, [the client] still had not understood.

[The client]'s body continued to gradually collapse until it lay on the ground like a pool of solidified blood.

The effect of adrenaline can only prolong the dying moment a little bit: even longer than the time [the client] expects.

Unfortunately, the remaining time can only be used to feel sorry for yourself and regret for not doing the job perfectly.

[The client] was lying on the ground, his head resting on his bent right arm; blood from his nostrils and mouth slid down his arm and formed a pool on the ground.

With anger and dissatisfaction, [the client] waited for the last moment of his life.

From this angle, one can just see a narrow slit of sky between the guardrail and the top of the corridor.

Ah! That.

It's not clear, but...

[The client] saw something: a writhing, black mass in a corner of the sky—but he couldn't make out what it was.

The faint vibrations and distortions were still changing and agitating, gradually condensing into a recognizable shape.

At first, she thought it was a hallucination before death - this was not unfamiliar. Various teaching plans and cases gave [the client] a far greater understanding of the final stage of human beings than ordinary people.

But the training they had received made them understand that it was something else.

[One of the premonitory symptoms of ecstasy: seeing strange objects in the sky with the naked eye.]

The printed A4 paper lesson plans for the training class were recorded like this: The wonderful things I saw at this time were consistent with the signs of ecstasy appearing in me -

Oh my god! Oh my god!

[Client] wanted to laugh out loud, but she only had enough strength to pull the corners of her mouth into a twitching grin:

I see it! I see it!

The training was correct - humans, after entering into that divine madness, can see things differently:

My signature. What is my signature? My special ability, my miracle, my madness. What is it exactly?

Panic, excitement, anticipation, fear: [Client] never expected that he would have such a complex and turbulent mood before his life was about to end.

It’s a pity that I no longer have the opportunity to perform the test program to discover the specific manifestations of ecstasy.

Is it possible? Is it possible? If I can see it. If I can discover it, will it be possible that my [ecstasy] is eternal life? Then, I can continue and see other things that happen.

[Client] was taking in less air and exhaling more. Her neck and trapezius muscles had become numb; she lowered her head: her vision was becoming narrow, and the world she could see was squeezing inward, leaving only her outstretched arms—

【Ah! 】

Although everything was blurry, [the client] still saw it: a bulge emerging on his wrist, like a watch worn on the inside.

It wasn't a fracture, nor was it a rupture. Instead, it was more like the skin that begins to break and deform after being exposed to sarin gas.

This scar does not match the client's understanding of the injury he suffered at this time.

The swelling continued to expand, until the skin became transparent, swaying like a burn blister, reflecting the dim sunlight streaming into the corridor and becoming colorful; it spread in all directions until it occupied the entire wrist.

boo.

The cyst burst like a bubble, the wrinkled epidermis flattened, and transparent tissue fluid flowed everywhere, revealing the contents in the center.

Everything was blurry—just a sticky mass that trembled like a flesh-and-blood soldier toy.

"what."

The client heard a thin, mosquito-like hum; but it didn't come from her. She used all her remaining strength to open her eyes a little wider:

The little person that grew out of her wrist was using an arm thinner than a chopstick to wipe away the blisters on her body.

The little man was wearing a wrinkled, pale, dead-skin windbreaker, with blood vessels still pulsating underneath. At his feet were two square suitcases, suitcases with bone pulleys. But like the other objects, they seemed to be made of the client's body parts—

【What's going on--】

"what happened?!"

[Client] before falling into shock and dying from blood loss

She heard the little man scream out for her the doubts that she no longer had the strength to speak.

Chapter 22 Strange news

In the books Doudou read or the movies he watched, he heard or saw others describe anger like this:

[It was as if something was rising from within and devouring my heart; or as if it was being burned by the fire in my heart until it was empty].

Although the details are different, there is not much difference in general -

The heart is being devoured, the sanity is lost, it seems to be true but it is not.

In short, Doudou felt that the anger they described was...

"It's probably out of control or something like that."

He lay on the bed and stretched out: Doudou couldn't understand this.

Whenever he was angry—actually Doudou wasn't sure, but after years of thinking and categorizing it, he felt that this emotion was more similar to anger—he never felt out of control or dissipated inside.

On the contrary, Doudou felt a kind of fullness rising from the bottom of his heart, pouring into his limbs, torso, and head: it was a warmth like molten iron (Doudou visited a steel mill during summer camp last year and secretly touched a handful of red-hot flowing molten iron, which was much warmer than sunlight), surrounding and enveloping himself.

Doudou didn't usually experience this kind of feeling. Most of his emotions were like tapping one fingernail against another, or scratching an itchy foot through a sneaker:

A subtle, almost imperceptible tactile sensation, each time leaving little detail in memory; yet it can be roughly categorized, like types of tissue paper. One brand is softer, another is rougher and crumbles to pieces when rubbed; but if you really want to say which is better, Doudou can certainly be used to blow your nose.

But when his nose wasn't itchy, he wouldn't think about it specifically: anyway, all the emotions Doudou had experienced were mostly like this.

Oh, reason! Anger also includes the absence of reason, but what is reason?

"Out of control, control. Am I in control of myself? I'm not a remote-controlled racing car, and I don't have a controller attached to me, so how would I know?"

Doudou doesn't feel like he's "out of control" --

Perhaps he has never been controlled, or the warmth brought by anger will not affect his heart at all.

"Well, it seems there's no difference."

Doudou shrugged at the ceiling, climbed out of bed and yawned:

The random thoughts that come with waking up are over, and today is another new day - there is one less day left in the summer vacation, which makes me sad just thinking about it.

"Hey, I haven't finished my summer homework yet. What should I do?"

He ruffled his hair and got out of bed.

-

In the past two days, a lot of strange things happened near Dou Dou's home.

The most influential and widely spread incident was the "tear gland infection" that occurred in most of Mong Cai: it was said that due to a certain type of pollen, a large number of Mong Cai residents were allergic and had symptoms such as howling, respiratory spasms and even dehydration.

This incident was somewhat strange and sudden. Even the 3rd TV station in Mong Cai reported it on the 8 o'clock news. For the next two or three days, it was also a hot topic on the streets.

Some people watched a popular science video, which said that the electromagnetic storm caused by sunspots interfered with the human body's magnetic field; some people said that a certain hidden master had practiced qigong incorrectly and became possessed, so he could only use qigong randomly everywhere and cause trouble to the martial arts world; the more accepted theory was that several nightclubs that opened recently in Mong Cai city were too ostentatious and collided with the Ten Sages of the Martial Temple who were recently transported from the mainland for a tour - of course, they were replicas of statues; but the craftsmanship was so lifelike that they had some immortal aura.

There are many different opinions, but no conclusion that can be accepted by everyone.

As for the exact reason, Doudou only thought about it when he heard it - at least, he didn't connect the matter with the smoking guy he slapped in the elevator that day:

In fact, he had almost completely forgotten the bloody tragedy that occurred in the elevator; only when he passed the seal on the elevator entrance would his memory be slightly refreshed. Law enforcement officers knocked on two doors at random and then took the body away.

[Come to think of it, I got it too! Luckily, it wasn't serious. I wonder if it's healed yet? Should I see a doctor?]

He recalled his sudden burst of tears a few days ago, and only then did he feel a lingering fear. However, Doudou never went to the hospital for treatment, so this incident certainly did not break his habit.

This incident came and went quickly: although it was bizarre, the greatest damage it caused was a car accident at the gate of Doudou Community.

The situation was settled quite quickly: the vehicles that rear-ended each other were both sedans, one was a Santana 2000 and the other was a green Mazda belonging to a taxi company; apart from a herniated disc and a dislocated shoulder, the drivers could be considered to be safe and sound.

As for the Tianhu community where Doudou lives, it is even closer to being called a haunted house.

-

But for Doudou, after the panic of whether he was infected, all of the above were just boring anecdotes.

Just going to the next street to buy some groceries would result in a bunch of uncles and aunties nagging about these things in Vietnamese, Cantonese, Mandarin with an accent, or Thai. Even the butcher was confused when cutting the meat and weighed Dou Dou eight ounces of extra pork bones; in the end, Dou Dou had to return it to him again:

Passing by the newsstand, Doudou couldn't help but pick up the magazines and newspapers neatly arranged on the stand.

"Handsome boy, why haven't you come to buy Parapsychology lately? Is it because the people in the house don't give you pocket money?"

The newsstand owner was holding a porcelain cup and guzzling summer cypress tea; the eyes on his sturdy face subtly looked towards both ends, one looking at Doudou, and the other still had time to glance at the TV on top of the newspaper rack.

"Oh, oh—yes, yes, I'm short of money lately."

Doudou was embarrassed to say that he had been buying magazines from the self-service newsstand recently: the magazines from the self-service newsstand arrived one day earlier every month than those from the newsstand in the vegetable market; they were even ten cents cheaper.

"You are a bit stingy, pretty boy. Okay, keep watching, but don't watch too long!"

Doudou felt a little guilty even to say anything, so he just continued to stare at the piles of magazines, searching for any new issues he hadn't discovered yet.

It wasn't that he had any particular magazine he wanted to buy, but it was like buying food at the supermarket: after weighing out the groceries, rice, oil, and salt, he had to look for other snacks. Since he was passing by, he had to read for a while.

The newsstand owner didn't stare at Doudou the entire time. He simply raised his hand and switched the channel on the CRT TV atop the newsstand, adjusting the blurry image.

".Next is international news."

The local TV station in Mong Cai City – before the afternoon rotation of commercials and old TV dramas, there are also some news. Today, they are broadcasting the big murder case from earlier:

"Our reporter has learned that as of today, August 19, the murder of several teachers and students at Nanyang Technological University is still under investigation."

"Nanyang Technological University is renowned for its rigorous academic record. This case has undoubtedly had a huge impact on the campus and society. The Singapore police have launched a comprehensive manhunt and appeal to the public for clues."

"Police currently suspect the suspect has managed to leave Singapore; several corporate groups will collaborate with international law enforcement agencies to advance the case investigation."

"This case is a symbol of non-governmental organizations' participation in international criminal investigations, and our station will continue to follow up on it."

Doudou had heard about this case several times on the radio - it was said that a PhD in mathematics went crazy and killed several people in the office with an iron ruler used in class; the radio host called him "Iron Ruler Butcher", "Dr. Iron Ruler" or "Iron Ruler Devil". The tool used in the crime was indeed legendary, which made his nickname have a bit of martial arts flavor.

But this is the first time I’ve seen a wanted photo: