dramatic death

Chapter 28. Good boy

In the dessert house just across the street from the crime scene, the young boss and his guests still don't know anything about what happened at the accident scene.

The guests were talking about Hakoniwa Online's unique holographic advertisement, praising the scary special effects, speculating about the power behind ELF, and condemning Yintong's never-delayed get off work time.

"Please..." The little girl who looked like a high school student was lying on the bar, her head was raised with tears in her eyes, "Just half an hour, just postpone it for half an hour, okay, I have an appointment with a friend."

"Sorry," Yin Tong smiled helplessly, not only rejected her request, but also decisively knocked on the mobile terminal, changing the "open" at the door to "off work at 18:00".

The customers in the store wailed, and some even canceled the order in a fit of anger.Boss Yin apologized while washing his hands, took out the freshly baked biscuits, and sent out a circle trying to play the emotional card.

"It can't be too late. Someone will be upset if you go back late."

"Girlfriend?" a guest asked.

Yin Tong smiled and said nothing.

At 17:48, nearly four or 10 minutes had passed since the large-scale scary scene in Hakoniwa Online. After Yin Tong delivered the biscuits, went back to the bar, packed up her things and changed her clothes, National Lolita finally recovered from the aftereffects of the special effects.

She resumed her usual arrogance and indifference, and she was holding a spoon and poking the coffee pudding in front of her expressionlessly. Her mechanical movements did not have the slightest clean color, as if she was completely unaffected by that little thing. Kong looked distressed.

"What are you thinking about?" Yin Tong said "tsk" twice in his heart, and took a spoon to dig a small mouthful of Christie's pudding.

"Tongtong," Christie was rarely angry, she even put down the fork and pushed the pudding in front of Yintong, "Have you had nightmares again recently?"

Yintong's hand for digging pudding stopped, and the silver-white spoon sank into the brown coffee liquid, leaving a bad arc.

"Why do you ask that?" he asked.

Christie: "I've always felt something was wrong. If you just indulged in those weird diaries and stayed up all night reading novels, your complexion would not be so bad. There must be some other reason. You dreamed about her last night Is it? You haven't emphasized this off-duty time for a long time, I thought you didn't care anymore. "

Yin Tong's words were originally just a refusal, but he didn't expect that the speaker had no intention and the listener had intention.

He looked down at Christie for a while, and sighed helplessly: "I always get off work at this time."

"But you won't try to emphasize it," Christie frowned and shook his head, "I think something is wrong with you, Tongtong, can you move back in from tomorrow?"

"What are you doing here?" Yin Tong smiled, "Are you taking medicine?"

Christie was a little annoyed, sat up straight and asked back word by word: "Yes, take medicine, what's wrong with taking medicine? Shouldn't you take medicine when you're sick?"

"I don't want to have nightmares." Yin Tong said.

"But if you take the medicine, you won't have hallucinations."

Christie said this seriously and earnestly, exuding an unquestionable aura.For a moment, Yin Tong couldn't think of which was worse, having nightmares or hallucinations, so he pursed his lips tightly, feeling a little irritated involuntarily.

"I'm not hallucinating."

"But you dreamed"

"Christie," Yin Tong interrupted her questioning, "I didn't have hallucinations, I just dreamed of her, a simple, nostalgic dream. You can't stop me from dreaming..."

Christie stopped talking, drooped her head, her eyelashes fluttered slightly, and her expression was a bit blank: "Sorry, I didn't, I just," she frowned, and retorted softly, "I just want to care about you."

Yin Tong looked at the hair twirling on the top of her head, and sighed silently in his heart.

He always had a hard time communicating with Christie.

Perhaps because of the environment in which she grew up, Christie's way of thinking is much more stubborn than ordinary people.It is difficult for her to empathize and understand the way of thinking of others. She is always used to imposing her own ideas on others, and judging whether a thing is correct or not from her own perspective.

She felt that Yintong was sick, and that she should take medicine when she was sick.She can even buy anything that "seems" useful because of this simple theory, keep it at home, and test the effect on Yintong bit by bit.

Nobody likes taking pills.Yintong thought, especially when those medicines were useless at all and bound to a lot of side effects.

He would occasionally think of the summer two years ago, when he was just picked up by Christie from the garbage dump in the abandoned city, his whole body was like a humanoid machine that had just been squared, and all his emotions remained at the stage of imitation.

He doesn't know what "crying" is, or what "laughing" is. He has no self-awareness or ability to judge, and all his behaviors seem to follow the script.

He is like Christie's doll, letting the little girl's mind be manipulated at will.All of his behavior comes from "breeders" and has learned to laugh when Christie wants him to "laugh" and to cry when Christie wants him to cry.

This way he can become what Christie calls a "good boy".

That's an attractive compliment.

Being a good kid means that when Christie confronts him, she won't be angry, cry, apologize endlessly, and even show the occasional satisfied expression.

Christie showed him the world beyond the dump, so he was willing to be Christie's good boy.

He "should" be Christie's good boy.

Yintong vaguely remembered that someone taught him that he "should" know how to be grateful.

Until someone reminded him that he "doesn't have to live according to other people's wishes".

That was two years ago, at the end of May, early summer.

After the accident in Central Park, Yintong's rejection of communication increased with the summer temperature. Although he was still obedient, sensible and understanding, he actively expressed his thoughts less and less frequently.

He just stood quietly behind Christie most of the time, no matter what she said, he kept a cute and polite smile.He looks like he has no opinion of his own, and accepts everything no matter what others say, but are there really people in this world who don't have the concept of "self"?

Chen Yan, Christie's agent, questioned Yin Tong's appearance.

He had just started to take over Christie at that time, and he still only knew the name of this entertainer with an empty appearance but a messy temper. He didn't even know that she kept a beautiful little pet in private.

But virtual idols are good here. They only need to show their faces on the big screen, occasionally hold a few fan meetings, and record the welfare content of a single AI with the technical department at regular times. Exposed to three-dimensional fans in physical form.

Fans don't worry about their idols getting old, ugly, cheating, and cheating, and idols don't have to worry about their love, life, hairline, and hookups.Anyway, it's just a virtual spiritual sustenance. Everyone has been lying to each other for 50 to [-] years.

With the availability of material materials these days and the improvement of living standards, children whose brains have been trapped by the door have long been eliminated by the theory of evolution.

So as long as the idol is not mentally retarded enough to actively expose the three-dimensional life, there is no fan skating on a whim.When the new batch of fresh meat slaps the old bacon to death on the chopping board, the old bacon can be regarded as successful and famous, and it won't end up in ruins at the end of the festival.

So to a certain extent, Chen Yan is quite at ease with Christie.

However, this "rest assured" ended at the moment he pushed open the door.

It was a bad night.

After an event, he sent a popular star home who was drunk and delirious. The moment he opened the door, he was first shocked by Christie's one-bedroom, one-living room, and then by Yintong sitting in the living room. one jump.

The house smelled disgustingly of alcohol, and the cramped room was filled with dirty plastic lunch boxes.Chen Yan threw the drunk Christie on the bed in the bedroom, then sat on the only sofa in the living room, looked at the pile of new medicines that had just been dug out on the plastic stool, and waved to Yin Tong who was standing at the door of the bedroom.

He said, "Yintong, come here."

Two years ago, 18-year-old Yintong was still a blank slate.

Chen Yan looked at him standing in front of him, hesitated for a while, and then bent down to sit on the ground. He saw the innocent simplicity and obedient obedience on the young man's face, and he did not reject his orders in the slightest. , like a tame little animal.

Chen Yan frowned and looked around for a week. The small apartment where Christie and Yintong lived only had a living room of less than 15 square meters. The messy daily necessities were piled up on the storage boxes in the corner, and the only plastic stool was A plastic plate was glued to make a simple coffee table between them.

There is no extra place for people to rest. If someone wants to talk to Yin Tong, the boy in front of him will sit obediently on the ground and look up at him obediently.

Like a puppy in captivity.

Chen Yan frowned, reached out and knocked on the bottles and jars on the plastic board: "Did Christie buy these?"

Yin Tong's eyes stayed on his hands, and he nodded slowly.

"Because you are hallucinating, so I bought it for you to eat?"

Yin Tong looked up at him, hesitated for a moment, and still nodded.

"Do you know what medicine this is?"

Yin Tong's movements paused, he stopped nodding, but raised his head, and turned his gaze back to Chen Yan.

"Did Christie tell you what kind of medicine these are?"

Yin Tong did not speak.

An inexplicable sense of irritability rushed to Chen Yan's head. He grabbed one of the bottles on the plastic board, unscrewed the cap, and poured it on the sticky temporary table.

"Exclusively for the White Tower," he pointed to the pills on the table, turned the bottle in his hand to the direction of the label, and held it up to Yintong, "Do you know what the White Tower is?"

"A new type of prison created by the pedantic old men to reduce the crime rate. All people with 'criminal genes' will be sent to the White Tower from birth to undergo 24-hour thought reform."

"Everything they experienced was drawn up by the monitors, and the thinking patterns they produced were all processed by an assembly line. They don't have their own consciousness, it's not that they don't want to have it," Chen Yan pointed to the medicine bottle in his hand, "Yes not allowed."

"'Thinking,' has been killed by these drugs."

Chen Yan paused for a moment, bent down, and looked seriously into Yin Tong's eyes.

He said, "Yintong, do you want to become that kind of monster too?"