I, the undead, save the world with the dolls

The postman kept the remaining three tapes, intending to listen to them tomorrow. Perhaps after listening to them, she would be able to complete her understanding of Ulysses' thoughts and the truth behind him. At the very least, she now had a more complete understanding of this Ulysses who secretly admired her and resented her.

"After all, he followed in your footsteps and headed to this great watershed. For him, you gave him hope, but also brought him despair. He fell into despair and resented you in the process." Joshua had some understanding of this former colleague.

"After despair, he fell into an endless void. He couldn't stop thinking, but he couldn't get the answers he wanted. He burdened himself with reviving the old America. No, it should be to build a country that is purer than the old America. A country greater than the future described by NCR, House, and Caesar." Joshua once stayed in Caesar's Legion for a long time, and then went to the East to see a different world.

Recently, he had been taken by the postman to see the Mojave and the appearance of various corners of the Western world. So Joshua could understand why Ulysses was desperate.

For Ulysses, the postman was the sinner who accidentally cut off the future of this wasteland.

Although she had not intended it, Ulysses could no longer bear this pain alone. He desperately needed relief, or someone to share this responsibility and pain.

"I'll have a good talk with him. Oh, I didn't expect that I actually have such crazy fans." After muttering to myself, the postman closed his eyes and went to sleep.

221 The History of Ulysses (Part )

A new tape blared from the postman's Pip-Boy. In the morning shelter, I used simple utensils to make enough food to fill my stomach. Fortunately, there was hot coffee to drink in the morning, so my mood didn't get so bad.

So empty, like the sands of the Great Salt Lake recreated here. The beat of the sky over the Great Divide... like the storm drums of the White Legs (the .45 submachine guns used by the White Legs).

[Under Caesar's orders, I charged with them across the salt lake bed, slit the two-headed bear's throat, and severed all ties between the tribes.]

[He uses storms, scorching sun, disease, fire, hunger... and the violence of the ignorant to kill anyone who might stand up to him.]

But the White Legs, like most scavengers, were unable to survive independently and sustain themselves. Therefore, I gave them a goal: to solve their hunger with weapons.

The walls of New Canaan were too high for Caesar. Perhaps he was too proud, or perhaps it held his past, memories that needed to be erased, memories of Graham.

I helped them uncover New Canaan's hidden supply stash and other secrets the desert holds—like underground bunkers and hidden warehouses filled with powerful weaponry even the Brotherhood of Steel would envy.

When these weapons fire, they call it a "storm drum." I teach them the power to unleash the bullet, guiding them to breathe their souls into the guns.

As for me, they call me the standard-bearer. Glory is in my hand, in my staff, which still bears the weight of the old world like a banner at my back.

Out of respect, I learned their weapons. When they returned the respect, history repeated itself. What's done is done. No matter how far you go, history remains the same.

"Tsk, so it's still Caesar's order?" Joshua said a little irritably.

"There's still a little mystery left. Why didn't we meet Ulysses in New Canaan? If we had met him then, we might have suffered greater losses. There are still some secrets that we don't know." The postman inserted a new tape.

I walked on the Great Salt Lake, acting as Caesar's hands and eyes. There were many mastiffs, both two-legged and four-legged. I saw scavengers surrounding the walls of New Canaan. The mastiffs did not have the strength or firepower to capture New Canaan; it was too high and too strong.

The White Legs, warlike by nature, flocked there, thirsting for battle. Their thirst, too, would become part of history, swept into the currents of the Legion. As always, I brought them a message—a message from Caesar.

If New Canaan burns, Caesar might notice them. "Perhaps." Even that probability is a lie. The White Legs, for Caesar's glory, will erase New Canaan's existence, destroying the history of the New Canaanites and the path they passed on that history—through their generations and families.

I told them that Caesar respected such strong men. That... was the truth. Even if "strong" no longer meant what it once meant, but "obedience."

Submission means you must be willing to do so. No one can be spared. Children, women, the weak, the elderly... If the New Canaanites value their clan, then you must completely wipe them out.

The postman glanced at Joshua beside him. He also looked a little down.

"If you feel uncomfortable..." The postman rarely showed high emotional intelligence.

"No need. I did that to his tribe before. He was just following Caesar's will and doing the same thing. I must face my sins, punishment and cause and effect. Go on." Joshua clenched his arms.

As the fox spoke through my mouth. Using the silence of the night and the fire, I transformed the language of the New Canaanites into pleas and wails. If hatred can accomplish anything, then nuclear bombs are unnecessary. I... caused the White Legs to destroy a lineage with a long history, a lineage that stretches back thousands of years—history once again died, lost in time.

The New Canaanites, who provided medicine, food, and traded with others. Civilization, from the past, not history... but perhaps from a more distant past, somewhere where God truly existed.

If this is true, then neither the gods' creations nor the people belong here. Another symbol, like the bear and the bull, meaningless in the present. (End)

"How dare he say it's meaningless?!" Joshua was still angry.

"Calm down. Ulysses just wanted to find a civilization that could save the world. He didn't evaluate other things. What is that fox?" The postman quickly changed the subject.

"Fox? Oh, Wolps. That's the unlucky guy you killed as soon as you entered Primm, the scout wearing a fox fur hat." Joshua explained.

"So that's him. Tsk, he's just a good talker. I killed him with one shot. He must have been to many places in the past, but unfortunately, he met me," the Postman said. "This is the last tape. Listen to it."

The last tape describes Ulysses' final insights into the White-Leg Tribe.

The White Legs... flatter and bribe me to gain Caesar's favor. My ears are filled with pretentious and flowery rhetoric...

I guided them to high-tech equipment, taught them the principles of rifling and propellant. I told them that Caesar was proud of those who wielded such equipment—all lies. And then… they began to worship me, not the Legion.

One night they took me to a campfire and showed me how they transformed themselves and how they braided their own hair.

In the firelight, they looked a lot like my dead tribe, their bared teeth glowing red in the darkness—starving zombies, bloodstained ghosts.

They... imitated my braids, the "twisted hair tribe" hairstyle. As if this could show that they were similar to me, that they could be me...

Yet, every knot in their braids tells a story of rape, violence—and ignorance. That's what those knots are meant to do. They think they're showing respect... but they're actually desecrating it.

"Ulysses's, their tribe had long been destroyed and annexed by Caesar's legions," Joshua said.

"But in other words, the White-legged Tribes imitated his behavior, which is very similar to the tribes conquered by Caesar's Legion. The culture and totems of those conquered tribes were replaced by Caesar's Legion, but those tribes could not understand the historical and cultural significance behind Caesar's Legion." The postman spoke as if he had suddenly realized something.

"Yes, that's right. The fact that Caesar's Legion has been able to continue operating to this day has nothing to do with the culture that Caesar advocated. It has been able to operate to this day purely because of Caesar's personal charisma."

"Hasn't he ever tried to tell the story of Rome? Tell it to his soldiers as history?" asked the postman.

"He won't. I once said that everything he has is built on lies. He has packaged his identity as a god, and he has been surrounded by lies from the very beginning. If the real history and past were instilled into these soldiers, Caesar would not have been able to get to this point. Only by relying on brainwashing and endless loyalty to Caesar could he sit firmly in that position." Joshua gave a straightforward answer.

"So, once Caesar dies, the Legion will only be able to hold on for a while. Revenge for Caesar or the fight for the Hoover Dam were Caesar's orders during his lifetime, and they are quite appealing."

"But it won't be long before they fall apart and each fights with their own familiar troops. I don't think anyone in the entire legion can have the same long-term vision as Caesar. I certainly can't, Ulysses might be able to, but he definitely won't be willing to do that," said Joshua.

"That's why Ulysses said, 'History repeats itself. What's done is done, there's no escaping it. No matter how far you go, history remains where it was.' He's experienced it firsthand." The postman couldn't help but sigh at Ulysses's experience. Then he continued to play the remaining part of the video.

[While trying to decipher the braid, I remembered that they didn't attach any meaning to it because they didn't know what it meant.]

They didn't even know the insult contained in twists and braids. Then, memories of the dry well kept coming back to me, and the White Legs gathered in a circle, as if... as if they were watching my tribe being destroyed and reborn as ghosts - hateful, hungry, and bowing to Caesar.

[Another piece of history has passed away, and I am the only one who bears it. (End)]

"His tribal history is being distorted and lost in the long river of history. He is the only one who knows the truth. That dry well was once the hometown of the Hair-Twisted Tribe." Joshua said slowly after listening.

"So I said, he was oppressed and tortured by too many things. He was forced to think about too many things and remember too many things, but he didn't dare to let them go. No one in the entire wasteland could understand the importance of inheriting history. Few wastelanders care about pre-war history. They have already exhausted all their energy just to survive. I think at least the Shi people will still remember some things. After all, the descendants of these expeditionary forces know the importance of recording history." Sun Yang peeked in from outside.

"Does China have a long history, Boss Sun Yang?" The postman was aroused with some interest.

"It's been over five thousand years now. Much longer than the United States. Dynasties have been destroyed, reborn, and destroyed again, over and over again. Eastern civilization has experienced a lot in history."

"America is still too young, and this catastrophe has lasted too long. The NCR is undoubtedly a new civilization, but one that has strayed from the path of learning from its predecessors. It lacks a valid reference, as the only reference materials exist in the undestroyed wastes and in Ulysses's head."

After Sun Yang's explanation, it was considered a small lesson for the postman team.

Ulysses is not only a spiritual American, he also yearns for, admires and admires the world he has never seen.

In his eyes, the knowledge of that world made Caesar's learning seem insignificant, the infrastructure of that world made House's City That Never Sleeps pale in comparison, and the national strength there was even more unstoppable than NCR.

Arriving in Dawntown on the Great Divide, he began to envision his own vision of a rebuilt America, independent of the Mojaves and reviving its Old World glory.

But that cargo caused his vision to be stillborn before it was realized. His feelings towards the postman were not so much hatred as they were the paranoia caused by the disillusionment of his lifelong ambition. He was unwilling to face this devastating defeat and turned that expectation into a meaningless revenge.

But Ulysses is a man with strong learning ability and thinking ability. He saw the power of the old world's technology and the insignificance of House from the mountains, but he also saw the crazy dregs of the old world.

He finally understood history and saw it clearly, but he still couldn't see himself clearly, so he had to stop on this lonely journey to wait for the postman he had never really met, and give himself an explanation.

As the first rays of morning sunlight shone upon this vast rift valley, a conglomeration of past, present, and future, Postman No. 6's heavy, powerful footsteps touched the soil at its end. The new owner of the missile base silently welcomed the team. The Postman's followers and supporters gathered behind her.

The battle between the two postmen took place under this broken sky, under the flag of the old world... Each of them brought a message for the other.

On the Great Divide, two messengers, two postmen, fought under an ancient banner, right on the edge of the world.

There is only one road left, and the postman must go down this road.

222 Communication

Ulysses was originally an ignorant tribesman, but through the legion he saw the former civilized society and began to think politically.

His confusion is difficult for people in the wasteland to understand - in this wasteland, where should human society go?

At first he worshipped Caesar, but later he realized the limitations of the Legion and NCR and began to seek his own utopia, but it was accidentally destroyed by the postman.

The lonely journey is both revenge and questioning. The real America has been completely destroyed in the explosion of the offshore drilling platform. The remaining people will never see again the country where their ancestors once lived and lived, a country that, despite its many shortcomings, was still prosperous.

The West Coast Enclave is gone, Navarro is in ruins, and the only legitimate government that has existed since before the war has been buried in the dust of history.

And when the last group of people who remember the Enclave die, this mysterious organization will also die completely.

The postman pushed open the gate of the missile base. This base, which stored dozens of nuclear missiles, was still dormant. The silo covers were still sealed, and the missiles scheduled for launch were not in place.

In the deepest part of the missile base, on the deck of the launch platform, a lonely figure stood there.

He was about 1.75 meters tall and wore a sleeveless trench coat with an old American flag painted on the back. His long black hair was twisted into circles in a special way and hung down over the coat.

Aliana scanned Ulysses at close range for a moment, then frowned.

"You have to be careful, Postman. He's very strong," Ariana whispered. "His overall physical capabilities are no less than yours, and he has many more implants. I loaded the medical program and can see that he has many signs of drug use."

"Don't make it so complicated. Just give me an example." The postman's intelligence did not allow her to understand many medical terms.

"If you take off your power suit and fight him, you will die. Postman, you are only good with guns, right? This guy's muscle training shows that he is good at using cold weapons. And I see that he has subcutaneous bulletproof armor, a stealth module installed in his body, and implants that I have never seen before." Ariana gave a detailed explanation.

"Phew, that's quite a formidable fellow," the postman said, narrowing his eyes. "Boss, let me ask you one last question. What are you going to do with this fellow Ulysses?"

"In my conception, the political environment of NCR needs a capable person to change. I think Ulysses is more suitable, but in the final analysis, the power to decide whether he lives or dies lies with you, Postman No. 6. You will decide his fate." Sun Yang glanced at the postman who was thinking carefully.

"Okay, I just like the feeling of making choices at will. I'll deal with this guy, and you guys don't interfere." The postman walked forward alone. She finally stood at the bottom of the platform and looked at the figure with his back turned.

The figure turned around calmly, with a large breathing mask on his face. His low and cold voice was largely due to this breathing mask.

Under the mask was a face as stiff as stone, his brows were cold, and his eyes were staring at the postman with a complicated expression.

"So you come, Postman, are you here to make fun of me, or to kill me? The giant of the Great Divide still slumbers, and the missiles here cannot embark on their journey home. You and your boss, Sun Yang, are indeed superior."

"Yeah, you almost succeeded. We've talked so much, and now you can't hide from me anymore. Do you still hate me for bringing in the package?" The postman tilted her neck. She was much taller than Ulysses.

"I believe what you said. It was an unintentional mistake. The Great Divide, the platinum chips, the machine you brought with you that was intercepted. From all of this, a lot can be read, whether it was intentional or an accident."

"If you're blaming me for the Great Divide, then let me answer for everything, not for anyone else. Tell me, what do you want to do with a nuclear bomb? Hmm? Blow up the NCR?"

"Blame you? No, I learned it from you. I learned the weapons that destroyed a nation, and I understood the power that made it happen. You showed me the way, the way to send my message. You have answered for your deeds with your actions, and now it is the banner you must follow that answers for everything."

"You, a nuclear bomb? You're going to launch a nuclear bomb as your message? Look, I can admit that delivering the package is my reason, but you can't just drop a nuclear bomb on others. Ulysses! Tell me the reason!"

"You have traveled the West, but you did not stay. You know why... the bears spread wildly, without reason. Following a sign, ignorant of its history and meaning. You have done much for the bears, but it cannot heal them from their weakness. When the fires of the old world fall from the sky, after this, only one banner will remain in the Mojave. That banner will fly high, or it will destroy itself."

"Then what good is Caesar's Legion? Aren't you planning to drop a nuclear bomb on NCR because I'm helping NCR? Don't you still have a grudge against me? I know what you will do. Cut off NCR's supply lines and completely bleed NCR to death. But the pioneers there are innocent. They will be slaughtered by the Legion."

The postman roared.

"You are powerful, Courier, but your power cannot overcome the power of the wasteland. You cannot prevent the decay of NCR, nor the impending disintegration of Caesar's Legion. These regimes, those of the Two-Headed Bear... those of the Legion... they carry some of the corrupted ideals of the old world into an age where they are no longer needed, and therefore they cannot survive."

"Your assistance has given NCR hope of victory. I will not allow this corrupt and decadent nation to rule this land. I would rather maintain their balance, allowing them to fight each other to the bitter end, and then forge a resilient and powerful civilization."

"Your story in NCR is truly inspiring. If you have something to say about Two-Headed Bear, I will listen, even if I'll be the only one listening. If you believe it can survive, tell me why."

Ulysses folded his arms and looked at the tall postman in front of him in silence.

"Ulysses, one person can create a group and also destroy a group. Can you accept this point of view? You have seen the Great Rift Valley and are blaming me here. NCR is also just a group." The postman moved his tongue.

"History, history proves this, our history. Do you think you are so strong? Enough to fight against all NCR? The West is not the Great Rift Valley, it still has 70 people." Ulysses asked.

"I can, of course I can. I have a very high reputation among the military and civilians of NCR, and I have a very good relationship with the followers of Apocalypse. I will be greeted with countless flowers and applause in Free City." The postman opened his arms and showed Ulysses what awesome things he had done.

"As long as I go and commission something, the Cannon Tribe will fly over to assist me. Even Joshua Graham is willing to obey my orders. Finally, I have the scientific research and military support of the most mysterious boss in the entire wasteland. All the technology of the Great Mountain Range is at my disposal. I can use a package to launch a nuclear bomb to destroy the Great Divide, and I can also stir up huge waves in my path!"

"Ulysses, who do you think I am? I'm the fucking Postman Number Six. When the entire wasteland mentions this name, they only think of me! Why can't I change? Caesar? House? I can defeat them all. Even Kimball can't stop me!"

After a round of self-promotion, the postman told Ulysses, somewhat stunned. This announcement of dish names encompassed almost all of the more powerful and formidable forces in Mojave.

"...Maybe you really can. Maybe you can really change NCR, just as you created the Great Divide. You are right, behind you is not only the shadow of a country, but also the hope of one person..." Ulysses sighed deeply, and he sat dejectedly on the platform.

"I have obtained my answer and found my hope. Postman, you are my hope. The hope of reviving America... So, how are you going to kill me? With a gun or a knife?" Ulysses let out a short laugh, "Ah... It's been a long time, finally, I can breathe a sigh of relief..."

"Damn it, get up!" The postman fired a string of bullets at Ulysses' feet. Ulysses reflexively jumped up and hid in the bunker next to him.

"Ulysses!! Come out!!! Face me!!" the Postman roared, "You want to die to atone for your sins? No way! If you die, you'll die suddenly in the NCR office! Get out here! We have one last business to settle!"

"Is it related to the shot in the head?" Ulysses' voice came from behind the bunker.

The postman Xiao Dui and Sun Yang, who were standing far behind, wanted to go forward to support, but were directly shouted away by the postman.

"Don't get involved! This is a fight between me and Ulysses! Ulysses! Listen to me, I was shot in the head, but the person who fired the shot was shot by my boss."

The postman took a deep breath and reloaded her submachine gun. She had a lot of weapons on her, but they were mainly close-range automatic weapons.

"I'm pissed, but I can't get mad at my boss. So, Ulysses, you sick idiot blamed me for delivering a package that blew up a city, so I blame you for not accepting the package, which caused my head to explode, right?! Come out! Show me how powerful you are!"