Latent Syndrome

Chapter 254 253. Fargo

With the SCT and the Countermeasures Bureau completely unknown, a strange phenomenon began to occur all over the world.

No matter which continent, any terrain, plains, hills, snow, there are always simple basements, bunk beds, and camp beds.

As well as those overly complicated world maps, countless strategic signs, and three rules with metal nameplates posted everywhere.

The first rule is, don't mention it.

The second rule is, there can be no doubt.

The third rule is…

It's always free.

No one fully understands the third rule, and even such common language becomes obscure and overly arcane.

They are everywhere, some serve people in restaurants, some refuel people at gas stations, and some work on PPT documents in front of computers.

They may be your friends, they may be your relatives, or they may be... yourself.

Hidden, circuitous, and pervasive, until you reach a transcendent state, you will shave your head, put on a uniform, and become... magical.

More than ten days ago.

"SIR! We have arrived at our destination! SIR!"

The ice and snow are freezing.

In the Antarctic Treaty, there is a consensus that even if a penguin is injured and dying in front of you, no intervention can be made.

All scientific expedition personnel must achieve zero intervention in the ecology and protect this virgin land that is not polluted by industry.

But a group of uninvited guests have arrived.

Both penguins and researchers at the scientific research station were brutally killed by these shaved heads. In the white snow, these eye-catching bright reds formed Fargo.

Their cruelty lies in the fact that the reason why they act pervertedly and crush all the corpses to squeeze out blood is not for pleasure or for some kind of pleasure.

It is scientific, rational and constructive.

It is difficult for these stormtroopers to adapt to the polar environment. The ice sheet is extremely reflective of sunlight, which can easily cause people to suffer from snow blindness and damage their eyes.

However, these members need to be active on the ice sheet for a long time. In order to alleviate this symptom, blood is used to spread the ice surface in temporary and simple strongholds to reduce damage.

One team went deep into the interior of Antarctica, killing scientific research stations one after another. The leaders of each team were extremely cold-blooded and cruel, leaving only the most highly educated among them to control them.

It's not clear why they did this, but they finally established a headquarters near the extreme scientific research station.

They don't just kill people. Among them are architects, materials transported across the sea, and people who are frustrated in various fields.

Many times, even the news in academic weekly magazines is false. People who have been famous for a long time will take the research results of scholars without background as their own and find countless gunmen. This kind of constructed circle, The authority that controls knowledge.

You can help anyone who can't memorize the multiplication table to become a member of the authority circle. In the defense, you only need to say that a car usually needs four wheels, and you can be crowned a wise man. Although it is a bit exaggerated, it is generally true. .

In this situation, these gunmen came into contact with such a transcendent, violent and detached organization, and became true...

A vicious gunman.

Gangster.

Their slogan, their concept, in iteration after iteration, has turned into something... magical.

Antarctica is isolated from the world. There is no signal from anyone, and all news is blocked. There are soldier handles at checkpoints to prevent irrelevant personnel and idlers from entering. There is no such thing as tourism.

Another group of stormtroopers killed all the soldiers on the shore, changed into their uniforms, and took over their work and equipment.

In a world affected by the Latent Syndrome crisis, no one cares about this continent. Even if people with a strong awareness of the crisis patrol, they are easily fooled by them.

For them, standing guard is... their job.

"SIR! Everything is under control! SIR!"

No one knows who their real leader is, perhaps it is some great consciousness beyond the universe.

And now.

The extreme scientific research station has become the main activity place of the "human insect swarm".

It is difficult to find the most appropriate words to describe this group of people, not even stormtroopers. Although the human insect swarm is close, it is not exactly the same. It can only explain this state of activity relatively better.

As if they were searching for slaves in the Middle Ages, armored vehicles drove here one after another, and people got out one after another, who were guarded by short-haired men with guns and restrained with ropes.

They are conducting some kind of experiment, in order to cultivate a designated infected person who is too cunning and requires a strong sense of radioactive elements.

Because it is too tricky, it has always been difficult to advance.

Along the center of all the pole scientific research stations, a huge building towers in the white frozen soil. It has no sense of beauty. It is just rough, rectangular, and completely black, like military engineering. It is a big black box with Rows and columns of extremely neat, dark windows.

Creepy.

Inside, there are still common scenes, camp beds, bunk beds, world maps, strategic signs, and file cabinets.

In one of the extremely simple rooms, the man with the birthmark was reviewing the research results.

Due to the departure from the symbolic realm.

With their base reaching a certain size, the Abyssal Disease also began to spread, but the strange thing was that none of these people went crazy or died suddenly.

Their spirit and their will can only be described as magical, and even the most terrifying abyss cannot touch them.

There are many hints of spirituality in it. The consciousness of some captured slaves is controlled, causing them to deviate from the symbolic world, increasing their chance of infection, and at the same time using special means to make their willpower... stronger and enable them to survive. The probability is increased, and you will not die violently due to backlash.

The room of the man with the birthmark was too simple. Several surviving scientific expedition personnel were brought into the room. They saw that the man with the birthmark was a relatively high-status person in the terrorist organization.

However, his room was just like a prison, a real prison, with a camp bed, toilet, sink, and shower, all squeezed into a narrow space.

The only difference from other rooms is the difference between bunk beds and camp beds.

"SIR, please give orders, SIR."

A man with a buzzcut asked a man with a birthmark.

The inexplicable terror of these people has frightened these scientific expedition personnel into silence. They have no idea what is happening in the outside world. Could it be that...

This new type of military cult has taken over the world?

They never use anything, interrogative form, to choose words and make sentences, as if... there are no questions.

After the birthmark man gave a few cold instructions, the short-haired man left.

The scientific research personnel thought that the man with the birthmark wanted to question him.

But nothing could be further from the truth.

"SIR, everything is under control, SIR."

The man with the birthmark said this to several scientific researchers, categorically.

Several scientific researchers were completely at a loss and didn't even know if the man with the birthmark was addressing them, even though he looked at them and spoke.

On this eternal frozen soil that has existed for 34 million years, a creature was born...

Indescribable...

civilization?