Home Categories romance novel Doomsday and Grim Wonderland

Chapter 11 Eleven Grim Wonderland Dressing, Watermelon, Chaos

When the hour hand reached half past nine, the girl turned over and got out of bed, picked up the clothes that had fallen on the floor, and slowly put them on.I lay on the bed, leaning on my arm and watching her get dressed out of the corner of my eye.The sight of wrapping her body one by one made her move smoothly and gracefully like a skinny bird in winter, full of a sense of tranquility.She zipped up her skirt, buttoned her shirt in sequence, and finally sat on the edge of the bed and put on her stockings.At the end, he kissed me on the cheek.There must be a lot of girls who take off their clothes with lightness, but there are very few girls who give people a sense of beauty when they put on clothes.After putting on all the clothes, she brushed her long hair up with her fingertips, and the air in the room seemed to be completely new.

Thank you for your wonderful meal. You're welcome. How often do you cook and eat like that?she asked. If the work is not very busy.I said, I can't do it when I'm busy with work.Grab any leftovers, or eat out. She sat on the dining chair, took a cigarette from her handbag and lit it. I don't do much myself.Fundamentally I don't really like fiddling with pots and spoons.The thought of rushing home before seven o'clock to make a lot of things and cleaning them one by one gives me a headache.Don't you think it's like living just for the mouth? perhaps.I'm feeling it too.

When I was getting dressed, she took out a small notepad from her handbag, wrote something in a ballpoint pen, tore it off and handed it to me. Home phone number.She said, if you want to see me or have something to eat left, please call and I will report right away. After the girl left with the three mammal books that should be returned, the room suddenly seemed strangely silent.I stood in front of the TV, took off the cover of my clothes, and looked at the unicorn skull again.Even though none of the proof-worthy evidence was available, I was beginning to think that the skull might well be the enigmatic skull itself that the ill-fated young infantry captain had unearthed on the Ukrainian front.The more I look at it, the more confused I feel that there is a strange karmic atmosphere emanating from the skull.Of course, maybe I feel this way because I have just heard that narrative.Almost unconsciously, I tap the skull again with the stainless steel torch.

After that, I put together the dishes and glasses, washed them in the sink, and wiped the table with a rag.It's almost time to start blurring.To avoid distractions, I put the phone on a recording service, unplug the doorbell, and turn off all the lights in the house except the kitchen.I had to concentrate on the whole play and do the fuzzy calculation by myself within two hours. My pass for fuzzy assignments is the end of the world.According to the highly personal plot under the title of the end of the world, I converted the calculated numerical values ​​into computer calculation terms.Of course, although it is a plot, it is completely different from the one that often appears on TV, and the more chaotic and unclear plot is nothing more than a plot.But anyway, no one taught me what it was about at all.All I know is the title The End of the World.

It is the group of scientists in the organization that decides the plot.I trained for a year to be a calculator, and after I passed my final exam, they froze me for two weeks.During this time, they examined my brainwaves in every detail, extracted my core of consciousness from it, set it as my pass order for my fuzzy work, and input it back into my brain.Then tell me: Here's your vague pass, titled World's End.For this reason, my consciousness has completely become a double structure.That is to say, firstly, there is the consciousness as the whole chaos state, and there is the consciousness core of the intensive chaos state like the plum core.

But they didn't teach me about the core of consciousness. You don't have to know this.They explained it to me because there is nothing more true than unconsciousness in this world.After reaching a certain age, we have carefully calculated and set it as 28 years old, and the human consciousness will basically not change as a whole.What we generally call a change in consciousness is nothing more than a negligible superficial error in terms of the overall brain function.Therefore, the consciousness core at the end of the world will function as your consciousness core unswervingly and accurately before you stop breathing.Speaking of which, do you understand?

Understood.I said. All kinds of theoretical analysis are like cutting watermelon with a short needle point.They can scratch the skin, but never reach the flesh.That's why we need to cleanly separate the rind from the flesh.Of course, there are also weird people in the world who are complacent about eating melon rinds. All in all, they continued, we must keep your clearance forever free from the surface wobbles of your own consciousness.If we teach you the so-and-so thing about the end of the world, which is to say like peeling a watermelon, then you're bound to have to fiddle with this and that and what fits here and what's added there and so on.And if this is the case, the universality as a general order will disappear in a blink of an eye, and ambiguity will not be established.

That's why I thickly skinned your watermelon.Another said, you can call it out because it's you, but you can't know.Everything is going on in the sea of ​​chaos.That is, you will dive into the Sea of ​​Chaos empty-handed and return empty-handed.I mean you understand? I think I understand. There is another question, they say, and that is: Should man be explicitly aware of his own conscious core? don't know.I answer. Neither do we.They say, so to speak, this is a question beyond science.This is the same as in Los Angeles.The scientists working on the atomic bomb at Alamos had the same kind of problem.

I'm afraid Billows.The Alamos is even bigger.One said that, in terms of experience, only such conclusions could be drawn.In this sense, it can be said to be a very dangerous experiment. experiment?I asked. experiment.They said, can't tell you more, sorry. Later, they taught me the method of fuzzy homework: do it alone, in the middle of the night, without an empty stomach or a full stomach, and listen to the established pronunciation method three times over and over again.That way I can call out the end of the world scenario.But as it exhaled, my consciousness sank into chaos.I blur values ​​in this chaos.After the blur was completed, the call from the end of the world was lifted, and my consciousness emerged from the chaos.The fuzzy homework is over, of course, and I don't remember anything.Reverse fuzz is exactly reverse, so you need to listen to the sound pattern of reverse fuzz.

This is the program entered into my head.It can be said that I am nothing more than a kind of unconscious tunnel through which everything passes.So when doing fuzzy homework, I often feel extremely panicked.Classification operations are the exception.Cleaning is a lot of work, but you can be proud of who you were at the time.Because all talents must be focused on this. In contrast, there is no pride or talent in fuzzy work.I am nothing more than being used.Someone is using my consciousness to process something in a time that I don't know.I don't think I can even be counted as a calculation formula on fuzzy homework.

It goes without saying, however, that I have no right to choose my preferred method of calculation.I have only been given two methods of classification and fuzziness, and I am strictly forbidden to change them without authorization.If you are not satisfied, you can only give up the profession of computing.And I have no intention of giving up.As long as there are different organizations, as an individual, I really can't find a career that can give full play to my talents than being a calculator, and the income is considerable.In a few fifteen years, you can accumulate enough money to live leisurely in the future.For this reason, I broke through the almost dizzying high rate test more than once, and endured the strict training. Drunkenness does not interfere with fuzzy work.Generally speaking, the people above tend to signal for a proper drink to relieve tension.But personally, in principle, the alcohol is excreted from the body before it starts to blur.Especially since the fuzzy method was frozen, I have not touched this assignment for two months, and now I have to be more careful.I took a cold shower, did fifteen minutes of strenuous gymnastics, and drank two strong coffees.In this way, the drunkenness can largely disappear. Then, I opened the safe, took out the paper with the converted value and a small tape recorder and put them on the dining table. I prepared five well-sharpened pencils and sat down in front of the table. First tune the tape.I put on my headphones, turn the tape, and let the digital tape counter go up to sixteen, back up to nine, and up to twenty-six.After ten seconds of such inactivity, the number on the counter disappears and a signal tone is emitted from it.If a different operation is performed, the tape sound will automatically disappear. After adjusting the tape, I put the new record book on the right side and the conversion value on the left side.At this point everything is ready.The alarms installed on the door of the room and all possible entry windows are lit with red lights ON.Nothing was overlooked.I stretched out my hand and pressed the playback button of the tape recorder, and the signal tone came out immediately.Er, the lukewarm state of chaos surged forward silently, swallowing me inside. (will me) Swallow Er Chaos→ Sound the horn
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