Chapter 372 Tears of the Sun, the Taste of God
Sunshower! What a romantic name.
When the upper city’s excretion system starts to operate, countless LED suns are still shining overhead, like a grand light show.
The rain passed through the bright sun, refracting a rainbow-like spectrum, falling on the faces, bodies, and plastic buckets held high by the people in the downtown area.
Children playing in the rain called the liquid, which smelled like disinfectant, "tears of the sun."
The price is that they have to take one or two more neutralizers tonight, but the ignorant happiness of childhood cannot be bought with one or two neutralizers, right? The children ran barefoot, splashing water everywhere, and their ankles were dyed a strange phosphorescent blue by the rain. The tender voices sang cheerful nursery rhymes in the rain: "Getting wet in the rain will make you bald,
But it can wash your eyes, the poop of the upper city, the life of the lower city..."
A wandering artist on the street picked up a harp made from discarded pipes, plucked the rusty strings, and sang the "miracle" of the sun shower.
The lyrics are full of true emotion:
"When the sun dances with the rain, when light and filth embrace each other,
We are finally bathing in the same world...
Oh, how wonderful! "
Churches also became bustling with activity. Buildings that were rarely open on weekdays opened their doors at this time to welcome believers in an endless stream.
The pyramid-shaped roof hung upside down, like a hungry mouth, greedily sucking the sky.
The priests, wearing thin, close-fitting chemical protective suits, preside over the mass once a month.
They claim that every drop of sun rain contains the "sacred genes" of the upper city - it only needs to go through nineteen purification procedures to optimize the genetic code of the people in the lower city.
Although most believers experience acute gastroenteritis first after drinking the holy water, that must be because you are not devout enough.
On the giant screen next to the church, the promotional video played over and over again. A scientist in a white coat stood in front of the camera, arms outstretched, spitting and shouting:
“This is the baptism of the new era! When the metabolites of the upper city become the nectar of the lower city, we have finally achieved the sanctity of the ecological closed loop! This is a cycle given by God and a new peak of human civilization!”
The fanatical believers were so excited that they imitated the postures in the short film, opened their arms, raised their heads, and let the rain wash away the fatigue and heavy metal makeup on their faces, returning to the purity of nature.
However, there are also indifferent pedestrians holding tattered umbrellas, walking silently in the rain, or simply letting the rain wet their clothes.
They have long been accustomed to this "gift" with a metallic smell and residual disinfectant, just as they are accustomed to the billions of artificial suns that rise and set above their heads, and this unchanging world without the changing of seasons.
Heavy rain washed the streets and gathered in low puddles. Drunkards lay on the ground and drank it, saying that this was the real "refreshing liquid."
The rainy days of every month are a festival for drunkards to revel. After all, a bottle of expensive "refreshing liquid" of 10cc is not enough to make people drunk. The heavy rain contains a faint hallucinogenic taste, but it is free for everyone to drink.
tread--
The muddy slippers stepped on the puddle, turning the blue of the dream into muddy color and waking up the drunkard lying on the ground.
“This world is terminally ill.”
Team 103, the bald man stroked his bald forehead and said with a grin showing his mouth full of black teeth.
Red Dragonfly shook her wet braids casually, licked the rain on her lips with her sexy tongue, smacked her lower lip and said:
"Captain, if you say that, the drunkards will fight you to death. To them, if there is a God in this world, then God should be the smell of this rain."
After saying this, the red dragonfly raised its head and opened its mouth to taste the rain. The fluorescent patterns on its tongue resonated strangely with the rain:
"The 1.4% Ailuokang nuclear waste liquid is 0.1% higher than the last rainfall. The metabolism has increased by 0.1%. It seems that the 'prostate' of the upper city is not very smooth."
The MC pushed his gold-rimmed glasses with his slender fingers, and the lenses reflected the fluorescent particles in the rain.
He whistled, and the sound was like the friction of rusty gears: "Red Dragonfly, you are wrong. Those steel pipes in the sky are not the prostate of the upper city-"
He turned his wrist gracefully, pointed at the drunk lying on the ground, and said with a grin, "It's the lower city! Because every Aelocon capsule flushed down the toilet in the upper city will eventually complete the cycle of washing in the blood vessels of the lower city."
The beast's Adam's apple rolled, and its thick neck slowly turned like a hydraulic rod, with its flesh piled up in a ferocious smile: "Captain, you've trampled on someone else's God."
The drunk behind me spat out the dirty water in his mouth, and retched in a daze, feeling his mouth was filled with the smell of feet.
"You bastards!"
Under normal circumstances, the drunk man might not dare to confront the strange combination before him - the sloppy bald man, the sexy woman in red, the man with glasses and a sinister smile, and the burly muscled man.
However, the "refreshing" smell that permeated the rainy day was the drunkard's home turf. He rushed towards the few people with a fearless howl of anger.
The bald captain raised his hand, waved it lightly, and pierced the drunk's forehead with his index finger.
He pulled out his finger and mumbled something in his mouth:
"Then I'll send him to see God!"
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After saying that, the bald man spit out the spoiled brains in his mouth with disgust, then looked up at the residential building not far away and said in a cold voice: "We're here, get ready to work!"
…………..Zhao Xing left the Second Prison and drove home with a heavy heart.
The wipers swung mechanically, sweeping away the water droplets on the windshield one by one, but they could not clear away the haze in his heart.
"Feng Mu was released by the police station..."
He gritted his teeth and cursed in a low voice, his voice full of suppressed anger and anxiety, "The Internal Inspection Department is asking people everywhere in the prison to go back and cooperate with the interrogation. Damn, they are all a bunch of mad dogs. Sooner or later, they will have to be buried with Qian Huan."
The red light ahead came on and vehicles lined up in a long line at the intersection. Traffic was as congested as usual on rainy days. The traffic was like a dying giant snake, twisting its body, moving slowly but helplessly, appearing both clumsy and desperate.
Zhao Xing honked his horn in annoyance, and the vehicle next to him was not to be outdone, and immediately responded with an even louder honk.
"Damn it! Damn it! Damn it all!"
Zhao Xing cursed angrily, his eyes flashed with ferocity, his chest heaving violently with anger.
He really wanted to jump out of the car right now, pull out all those unruly drivers, put them in jail, teach them a lesson about traffic rules, and learn some principles of life.
He had long believed that the best educational institution in the world was prison, and that everyone in the world should go to prison for further education.
Thinking of this, Zhao Xing shook his head, trying to dispel these distracting thoughts in his mind.
He knew that the developments after the prison riot were different from what he had expected, which made him too nervous.
Zhao Xing adjusted his breathing, then held the steering wheel with one hand, took out his mobile phone with the other hand, opened the news page and swiped quickly.
In the dim carriage, the cold light from the screen reflected on his gloomy face, making him even gloomier.
Zhao Xing's brows furrowed deeper and deeper. The titles and comments scrolling rapidly on the screen were like countless needles, piercing his heart.
The Executive Yuan's delay in taking action was beyond Zhao Xing's expectations.
What made him even more uneasy was that the public opinion on the Internet began to undergo subtle and strange changes, like an invisible undercurrent, quietly surging in a direction he could not guess.
"I always feel like something is wrong, as if there is an invisible black hand stirring this vortex in secret..." Zhao Xing murmured in a low voice.
(End of this chapter)
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