Doomsday Paradise

Chapter 2316 Video letter left to Lin Sanjiu (7)

This long narration is finally coming to an end.

I don't even know if anyone is still listening after such an endless narration.Maybe I just told the story to the void; I can imagine that in the barren time after my death, the grave of the story was covered with tall grass, blown by the wind to make an empty sound.

You might think that you already know what happens next.

Overall, there are indeed not many surprises.You know what I did and what I became; as long as the end and the end are the same, it doesn't seem to matter what path I took.

However, I still feel the need to emphasize one point - not to defend myself, I don't care about this; but to hope that you, or anyone who is listening to my story, can look at the life of the adoptive mother as accurately as possible .

My first few years in the post-apocalyptic world were still trying to live by the rules my adoptive mother had set for me.

"Everyone makes mistakes, and you are alone." After my adoptive mother divorced, two or three years later, she said this to me. "What does it matter if you make a mistake once, the important thing is to keep going on the right path."

True, I broke all the rules of being a foster mother, but that was just "one time" in my opinion.

And next time, next time, I can choose not to violate them.

The rules of my adoptive mother have been the yardstick that I have relied on for 20 years. Relying on them, I have obtained a good education in human society, obtained income and status, and obtained the approval of other people.But that's not the only reason I'm willing to abide by them.

Speaking of which, it might be a bit counter-intuitive.

But it was under the set of rules that constrained me in every way that I felt real freedom.You see, real freedom is not being able to do whatever you want; freedom is being able to be who you are, whatever that is, and you're still safe, you're still accepted—still accepted understand.

In this sense, the set of rules is not a shackle, they are the boundaries drawn for me by my adoptive mother.Within the border, I experienced 20 years of safety and freedom, and it was the only 20 years of safety and freedom in my life.

So for the first few years, I struggled to impose the foster-mother rule on a post-apocalyptic world, like flicking the wrist of a dead corpse to see if it would come back to life.

Of course I know that the world I live in is different and there are no so-called social rules; but...babies who suck on a pacifier don't quiet down because they're sucking milk.

You are also a person who has survived in the doomsday world for more than ten years, so you naturally know what kind of place this is.

The first one I threw away was "Can't Kill".

Once, in the middle of the night, I was awakened by some kind of movement.Lying under the cover of the night, with a little bit of light from the sky, I quietly looked at the man I had a relationship with during the day, and thought I had crept into the window of the room silently.

Not long after that, I was involved in a gang fight over supplies; no one would back down from the truckload, and I, like the others, had blood on my hands.Another time, an evolutionary mistakenly thought that I was a good person who was reluctantly following the rules, and I could take advantage of this... In short, you should understand better than anyone else that there are too many opportunities created by the end of the world.

The rules my adoptive mother set for me are like elastic bands that have been around for too long. After trying to explore, stretch, and widen its limits in the doomsday world, it gradually becomes looser and looser and loses its shape.

For Gong Daoyi, who was brought up by his adoptive mother, the doomsday world is a place with chaotic structure and confusing; for me, who was born to live in Gongdaoyi's body, the doomsday world is a playground favored by God .

I soon discovered that few people could escape the influence of my abilities if I wanted them to; that other people could only whimper and give me as much pleasure as I wanted.

When I say this, it may seem that I am arrogant, but you really have no choice, no chance of confrontation.

Even now, when you have killed me, I still want to say: In this world, except Nuwa, no one can stop me from doing anything I want to do.

As my adoptive mother's rules deformed, failed, and fell into the ground one by one, the room for me to stretch my arms and legs grew more and more.During those few years, I was almost red-eyed.

An abstinent person breaks the precept suddenly, so naturally he doesn’t know what is enough to stop; that time was full of crazy indulgences, and I was never satisfied, jumping from a broken life to the next scream of losing human form, consciously Every day is very happy, very enjoyable.

Do you think it's strange?
It was obviously an experience that was very in line with my nature, but I don't remember anything except a vague outline.The details I remember most clearly are that I often got up in the middle of the night when no one was there, wandered the streets of the city, and circled the house repeatedly, not knowing what I was looking for, only knowing that I hadn't found it yet.

At that time, I hadn't thought about my adoptive mother for a long time.

After a long time, the person who reminded me of my adoptive mother again was actually a stranger.I didn't take him as prey at that time, as if we were in the same instance, I finally defeated him - he was seriously injured, and he was punished by losing the ability to evolve (ability is rewarded by the instance gave me).

"You have everything," after the dungeon ended, he collapsed at the gate, grabbed my trouser legs, and cried to me, "Please, since you took everything from me For the sake of it, let me live, I just want a medical item, I just want to stop the bleeding..."

He has a bird pattern tattooed on his hand.

I looked at the flying bird, and for some reason, memories from many years ago were brought back. I remembered the bird feeder of my neighbor's house when I was a child, and the handful of rice I scattered in their yard.

The next moment I thought of the neighbor's yard, I seemed to fall through time and fell back to the little Gongdaoyi back then; I was standing on the driveway of Akihara's house, and my adoptive mother held my wrist tightly.

"When you hurt, you have to make amends. No one deserves to be your target, do you understand? In this world, there is a set of rules that no one can break. You must learn to distinguish right from wrong, and know which What you can do and what you can't do is the only way to live smoothly in this world... I want you to have a peaceful and happy life. Would you like to let your mother help you?"

There was such a fluctuating, broken light in her eyes that I thought it was because of a layer of tears.

I healed the man's wounds, brought him some special items and some food.

I thought again about my adoptive mother and the boundaries she had set for me.

Most of the rules of adoptive motherhood are broken in the post-apocalyptic world, but one still does: after you do harm, make amends to others.This is one of the few rules I can still cling to (the other is no cannibalism, I don't like it); so I followed the path of the past few years, found some people, and treated them Made up.

As I re-attempted to follow the remaining rules of my adoptive mother, I realized one thing.

If I could go back in time, if I could choose to live in any time period, I would choose the 20 years of returning to my adoptive mother repeatedly, satisfying my natural desires with documentaries and tragedies, and then sitting down with her. for dinner.

It's just that it's too late for me.

I am too far away from home, I have long forgotten the way back; what is left to me is only faint, biting my homesickness.

I said to myself, if after hurting someone, peace can be regained by making amends, then I make amends first, and then hurt, is it the same?It's like a person standing on the edge of a cliff. If I push him and pull him back, isn't it back to the original point for him?

That way, I'm content, but I'm still playing by the foster mother's rules, right?

Yes, I lied to you; the ups and downs of human feelings are what I do it for.

I think I'm smart, but smart people are far more effective in deceiving themselves than fools.

Of course a part of me knew that I was misinterpreting my adoptive mother, that I was abusing the rules she had set.The clearer I became in my heart, the more cautious and precise I was to weigh the damage and compensation on the balance, like an obsessive-compulsive disorder, to ensure the balance between the two.

... Later I accidentally met you.

I once watched a TV series with my adoptive mother, which was based on real serial killers in history.I felt at the time that she was not very comfortable watching it with me; but I would still ask her to watch it with me.

"If I am also a person who takes pleasure in killing and kills a lot of people secretly, and you find out, what will happen to you?" I turned my head and asked.

My adoptive mother glanced at me. "You won't, I know what kind of kid you are. You can control yourself."

"I mean what if—what if you find out that I'm a serial killer?" I crossed my legs and leaned comfortably on the sofa, and asked again.

But the adoptive mother didn't like this quiz game, and once again denied my question from the side.I had no choice but to guess: "Will you hide it for me, pretend it never happened?"

"of course not."

"Even if I swear that there will be no next time, won't I?" I asked.

The adoptive mother looked very calm and said, "That won't happen either."

"Then what will you do?" I asked, "Call the police?"

After a pause, the adoptive mother let out a "hmm", her eyes were still focused on the TV screen.

I turned my head away without interest, and was about to continue watching TV. The next second, I suddenly straightened up from the sofa.

The adoptive mother turned her head as if she was afraid of being caught by the wrong child, and we looked at each other for a second or two.

At that time, I knew too much about my adoptive mother, whether it was her emotions, looks, or the strength of her personality.I couldn't help being surprised, and looked at her and laughed loudly: "You're going to kill me! Don't you? Mom, you can just say it, it's just the two of us at home...you're going to kill me!"

"Stop talking nonsense," said the adoptive mother hurriedly, standing up. "After you die, can I still live alone?"

...you should already understand.

I want to go back to my hometown, but it's gone.

It was my adoptive mother who made me grow into a human being and saved my life; the person who should end my life now can only be my adoptive mother.

You are the closest person I can find to her.

I don't believe in heaven or hell, but I believe that the end of the road you paved for me will definitely lead me to a place very close to her.

But I cannot tell you the real reason; otherwise you may well feel that I still seem to be a man who can salvage change.

I'm not.

In order to prove that I am not, for the ending that I should bear, I need to do a considerable amount of harm to you, and create in front of you (maybe you don’t need to create, just act in your true colors) an indifferent, inferior, foreign object-like palace one.

What you see, the last moment of my life, is a theater that I have carefully arranged and organized countless times; it should be hasty, strong and sudden.

I don't know what will happen after I die, maybe something will happen so that you will never see this video letter.

But I do know a little bit.

I'm finally going home.

　Finally finished writing... I really like writing this kind of short stories. I feel like Sakura Joe, Dong Luo Rong, and Ye Jing.However, Lao Gong is angry and complains, which may cause damage to the evaluation ().

The countdown to Kindle Scribe starts: 30 days left! !

　
(End of this chapter)