Latent Syndrome

Chapter 90 89. Empire

After Dick killed several city council members and threatened one of them, the seizure of the activity room eased, and testicular cancer mutual aid groups spread like capillaries throughout Los Angeles.

The funds obtained through robbery were continuously transformed into strength, making this joke-like name become a feared illegal organization.

There are rumors in many mutual aid club activity rooms in the city that when your bank card cannot represent you, the car you drive cannot represent you, and your clothes cannot represent you, these are no longer components of personal will, but accessories of personal will, just like Trash, like scrap, abandon everything and become a real man. When you think you are ready, you can take part in the trial.

Trial.

Like some kind of childish medieval joke, like Don Quixote fighting a windmill, modern people will only regard this as a ridiculous after-dinner talk.

But the requirements for participating in the trial are...

Not only is there no pay.

Instead, five hundred alliance coins are required for uniform fees and burial expenses.

How...

Bizarre.

It seems like it is really a trial, about the trial of a real man.

Those words.

[This world is your cradle and your trap. 】

[Your birth was a mistake, and it will take a lifetime to correct it. 】

[You need male hormones to sign the death contract. 】

[It doesn’t matter whether you want to go to hell or not, people are already living in hell. 】

[Only the extremely strong can contend with the devil among devils. 】

These words, like a magical spell, pour into the human mind.

Those who had already washed their hands at the Testicular Cancer Mutual Aid Association could no longer hold back. Suddenly, the divorce rate in Los Angeles skyrocketed. In the Shusk District, St. Louis District, and the industrial areas outside the city, these areas were most obvious, with the divorce rate reaching over 100. Seventy percent seems to indicate that thousands of men have abandoned their families to participate in this so-called trial.

legend.

As long as you pass the trial, you can enter an organization. No one knows its name, such as hall, temple, brotherhood, etc. It is spread in various ways.

The first rule of testicular cancer support groups is not to mention it, but few people do that.

And the people in this organization absolutely do it.

Just like urban legends, they have a huge appeal.

Economic depression, poverty, depression, a failed marriage, a cow who only buys discounted groceries in the supermarket without washing her hair for three days, a coward with mediocre grades who was bullied in school, and a white woman with big breasts sitting next to him with a face full of flesh. The boss who has a boss who tells you what to do with his secretary, the hateful freak who doesn’t know how to use social media to fool the public.

All LOSERs who have been insulted, ridiculed, teased, ridiculed, and failed are eager to become one.

A real man.

The dark warehouse has bunk beds and the old-fashioned TV only shows news programs.

One after another, men wearing white vests, black jackets, jeans and boots looked as expressionless as robots.

"This is your life."

"Every minute is coming to an end."

“Nothing can be achieved by being undisciplined.”

"Discipline...that's important."

"Iron discipline."

Some people say that the leader of that organization is mentally ill, some say that he doesn't have to sleep for seven days, some say that he can lift a bathtub and crush people to death, but these are not certain.

But at least one thing is beyond doubt.

He is from the Far East of Siberia and he folds his quilts as neatly as 3D modeled squares.

"YES SIR!"

A chorus of voices filled with vitality echoed around him.

Ya Xiu couldn't understand it at all. He had no idea what Di Wei was doing.

Walk out of the basement of the warehouse and open the door of the abandoned hospital.

Hua Hua Hua...

Black clouds pressed over the area, rolling thunder rolled in, and torrential rain poured down like pillars.

In front of the gate of the abandoned hospital, there were two rows of people, six in total, each standing in a very standard manner despite the rain. There were luggage bags beside them, which contained burial expenses and bedding for participating in the trial. They all stood expressionless like robots.

Di Wei walked up to the first person and cursed loudly.

"You're so fucking ugly."

"We don't need you."

"Get out of here."

After he finished scolding, the man with the black birthmark on his face still did not leave, but stood there solemnly, motionless.

Di Wei picked up a wooden stick and beat him on the leg, but the man didn't say a word.

He said nothing more and returned to the hospital with Ash.

…

…

…

The second day.

Ash walked out the door.

There were still strong winds and heavy rain, making this dilapidated neighborhood even more desolate.

The six people outside the door stood in this environment for a whole day and night, motionless, with solemn expressions and without blinking.

"We don't need you."

"Someone is going to shoot us."

"Do you like that? Huh?"

"Like hunting a deer."

"A hole was blown out of your head, you were bleeding profusely, and all your brain matter came out. No one knows your name."

There was no change in the man's expression.

Ash slapped the man with the birthmark hard on the face, insulting him.

"Get out of here."

"You're disgusting."

Ash didn't forget to humiliate a few people around him, beating them with wooden sticks and telling them to get out of here.

But they still didn't respond at all, they just stood there silently, neither sleeping nor eating.

…

…

…

The third day.

Di Wei went out.

It rained continuously for three days and three nights.

"Do you think this is fun?" Di Wei was speechless.

Those few people were still standing outside the door.

Di Biao's tone was lighter and he said: "You don't have to join our organization. You don't need to prove anything. Think about your wife and your children. This may be meaningless, but... just go home. .”

…

…

…

Early morning on the fourth day.

The weather is calm and sunny.

Di Wei and Ya Xiu went out together.

Those six people still stood there motionless, without eating or sleeping for three days and three nights, and were subjected to insults and words that made people give up.

Their bodies were visibly thin, but their faces remained expressionless.

Di Wei lit a cigarette and asked lightly, "Have you brought the uniform fee and burial fee of 500 alliance coins, right?"

He took a deep drag on his cigarette.

"YES SIR!"

The men finally spoke.

They were taken to the underground warehouse, had their heads shaved, put on uniforms, and spread their bedding on bunk beds.

…

…

…

The fifth day.

The man with the birthmark pushed open the door of the abandoned hospital. The fence surrounded by barbed wire had long been broken, the trees that had not been taken care of were in decay, and the roads were full of potholes. No neighborhood in Los Angeles was more desolate than this one.

I saw two rows of people standing in front of the door, about thirty-four in total, all with solemn expressions, standing there in a very standard posture, with luggage bags next to them.

The birthmark man slapped the first person on the face and cursed.

"You're too fat, like a fat fucking pig, we don't need you."

The birthmark man loosened his grip on his collar.

After the man was stunned for a while, he picked up his luggage and left.

But there were still more than thirty people standing with expressionless faces.

"You're too short, get out of here."

He randomly found a few people, insulted them, and beat them with wooden sticks. Finally, he found a person who couldn't find any faults.

"you……"

After the birthmark man grabbed his hair, he was stunned for a moment and said, "Your hair is too damn golden."

He continued to add: "You don't need to prove anything, and you have nothing to prove. Joining here doesn't mean anything, just... go home."

The birthmark man went back directly after saying that.

Those who were left behind still maintained their extremely standard standing postures, motionless.