Quill and Rocket Raccoon's decision to go to a newspaper office not far from New York's Central Park is an instinctive move that hasn't been thought through, and in fact the man and the bear don't seem to have thought it through.

Perhaps it was because they had experienced so many dangers of all kinds when they were wandering that they could even have a relatively relaxed state of mind in the face of such a terrible disaster, at least Quill was quite light, and the ease was terrifying.

The reason for their operation was that they did not find anything in New York's Central Park, but they found the body of a newsstand owner in a nearby newsstand, and found a newspaper reporter's business card on him.

The business card shows that the newspaper office is not far from here, and in order to answer the question of "is there panic in society", Quill and Rocket Raccoon decided to go to the newspaper office, after all, many of these small newspaper reporters have noses like hyenas, and if there is no chaos, they have to create chaos, and if there is a little chaos, they must not immediately add fuel and vinegar to report it?

After arriving at the newspaper office, the two of them found the archives without much difficulty, and then began to dig through the large pile of files.

But it's a bit disappointing that this little-known newspaper doesn't spread rumors like some pheasant news channels, and it doesn't seem surprising that they're a travel-focused media outlet that's based near New York's Central Park.

A lot of their reports are about travel information in the New York area, and they seem to have cooperated with many hostels, and there are a lot of advertisements for travel agencies in the newspapers.

Quill stared at the sample of one of the magazines, looked at the date on it, and said, "Was there a perpetual calendar at the door when we came in?" So according to the publication date of this magazine, until 4 months ago, this newspaper was still working normally, but the corpses on the road were at least three months old, and there were only ten days left before the end of the world, and they still had time to report tourist information? ”

Quill was puzzled, but at this time, Rocket Raccoon shouted, and he jumped down from the very top of the filing cabinet with a tabloid in his hand, and handed it to Quiel.

Quill scanned the tabloid information and found nothing important, and then when he looked at the date, he exclaimed, "Two months ago??? ”

If the end of the world had erupted three months ago, how could there be a well-printed and beautifully crafted tabloid from two months ago?

Quill covered his eyes and tried to figure out with his somewhat unenlightened brain, "We saw a corpse in the street, he probably died three months ago, and he was lying here like that after his death, untouched by anyone. ”

"In other words, three months ago, the situation had deteriorated to the point where no one cared about the corpses thrown everywhere on the streets, so the people must have known that the end was coming, after all, who could not see so many corpses on the streets?"

"Knowing that the end is coming, don't you hide at home, come to work in the newspaper, and are you still in the mood to print a travel tabloid? In the years that I was not on Earth, has humanity developed to such a madness? ”

"Could it be that the people trapped in the newspaper office cultivate their sentiments on their own?" Rocket Raccoon suggested a possibility, saying, "I've met people who have been hiding in doomsday shelters before, and they're going to try to have as much fun as possible to keep themselves from going crazy in their loneliness." ”

"And how long have they been hiding in the Vault?"

"Probably a few decades."

"But now the end has only been a few months old. How big is this person's heart, after a few months of destruction in the city, he can immediately adjust his mentality and start entertaining himself? ”

Rocket Raccoon fell silent, apparently convinced that Quill couldn't be so heartless as long as he was an intelligent being.

It's possible to have some fun after decades of hiding, but if he has only been hiding for a few months and is still in an unsafe environment, he has the heart to write a beautiful paragraph praising the scenery, and if he has this willpower, shouldn't he have survived to this day?

"It's weird." Quill sighed, sighed, and continued, "It's full of mysteries, but I'm sure there's a key, and maybe it's in the papers." ”

After saying that, he began to rummage again, and Rocket Raccoon had nothing else to do but join him, and after about ten minutes, Quill's movements stopped, and Rocket Raccoon jumped on his shoulder, staring at a newspaper in his hand with him.

It wasn't a tabloid, it was a regular newspaper, and while the newspaper's newspaper wasn't serious, it was clear that there was more information on it, and Quill was focused on a notice in the center of the headboard.

"White Moon Season Tour Group clarifies: It is a complete rumor that the youth tour group undertaken by our company last month had a self-harm behavior, and the passenger accidentally fell off the cliff in the scenic spot, resulting in 6 injuries, and all have been sent to the hospital for treatment, and the New York State Court found that our company does not bear the responsibility for poor guardianship, and the following is the verdict......"

Quill looked at the photos of the verdict that appeared, which roughly meant that six travelers were injured during a tour group, but the reason was that they did not listen to the travel agency's arrangement and went out to climb the mountain in the middle of the night and rolled down the mountain, and the hotel was not responsible.

Quill narrowed his eyes, he instinctively felt that there was something wrong with this report, so he looked at the time, and found that this newspaper had been printed quite early, at least half a year ago.

"Self-harm!" Rocket Raccoon exclaimed, "That's the key! ”

Quill didn't react, but Rocket Raccoon was already staring into his eyes and said, "Do you know how much of a psychological shadow you caused me when you cut off your own arm?" Maybe these people are just like you! ”

Quill froze, then slapped his thigh with his only remaining hand and said, "Possibly!" In other words, the fear attack I was subjected to at night may have been encountered by someone more than half a year ago. ”

"They may have been attacked in this way at night during their trip, ran out uncontrollably, and then self-harmed, and science cannot explain this, so the court found that they were on a whim and did not listen to the hostel's arrangement, so the hostel was not responsible."

Then Quill suddenly thought of something, and said: "In other words, being attacked at night is a precursor to disaster, and it is an attack followed by a disaster, not at the same time, and even at a very different point in time." ”

"Is there a causal relationship between the two? The attack led to this catastrophe? Quill looked shocked and said incredulously, "Is it some kind of seeding process that the night attack has caused monsters to hatch from human shells?" ”

Rocket Raccoon shuddered, shoved Quill and said, "Stop talking, it's disgusting." ”

"No, and one more thing, since the attacks didn't happen at the same time, then everyone's incubation may not happen at the same time, and the time difference in that was enough for the FBI or something like that to respond."

Quill immediately stood up, and Rocket Raccoon didn't know where he was going, so he hurried after him on his short legs.

Quill strode out of the archives room to his office downstairs, and as soon as he came down the stairs, he saw a cloud of slime stuck to the water dispenser.

Holding back his nausea, he walked over and looked up and down at the water dispenser, which was an old-fashioned water dispenser that would flow out at the push of a button, and it didn't require electricity, so it could be activated.

Traces of slime spread from the water cooler to the nearest office, and Quill said in a mocking tone, "Don't tell me that newborn monster babies are good boys who love water?" ”

With that, he walked into the office with his legs raised, and then he saw traces of slime, and went all the way to his desk, where there was an old-fashioned computer that was commonly used in newspapers, and next to the keyboard was a mug with water in it, and more importantly, that slime on the mug.

Facing the mug, Quill froze suddenly, because a terrifying thought came to his mind-

Monsters don't need to drink water.

But this monster wants to drink water.

Does it not realize that it doesn't need to drink water, or does it not realize that it is a monster?

Quill shuddered, and he suddenly realized that he had grasped the key, the key to the door beneath all this strange, perverse, and calm appearance.

No one realized that the monster had appeared.

They work and live normally, solve basic physiological needs, follow their planned life route step by step, and even have leisure to write travel tabloids.

It's just because they don't realize they've become a sticky tentacle, and they don't realize that others have become like this.

Quill felt dizzy, and terrifying images kept coming to his mind.

Half of the head disappeared, leaving only countless tentacles of different lengths, the clerk stared at the screen seriously and was reviewing the manuscript, and a dozen hooked feet with hairy beards stretched out of his abdomen hurriedly ran in, picked up the water cup and took a sip of water, while behind him, the lower limbs had completely disappeared, and another employee with internal organs hanging on the tentacles walked in with the water he had just received from the water dispenser.

It's scarier than hell, Quill thought.

Because hell is abnormal, everyone knows that the scene of hell full of flames is not normal, but who would doubt that it is not normal for one hand to have five fingers?

Is five fingers normal? Or is it a horrible, off-putting dense tentacle that no one can perceive just because everyone is like this?

Quill took a deep breath and tried to banish those horrible hallucinations from his mind, and he finally understood why no one had been prepared before the catastrophe had struck, and no one had panicked or caused chaos after the catastrophe had erupted.

Because in the eyes of these New Yorkers, there is no disaster, everyone just goes to work as usual and goes home to spend time with their families.

And thinking of this, Quill suddenly thought of another thing, if there is no disaster here, everyone is like this, then is it not normal?

Could it be that in the eyes of these monsters, he is also a monster?

Then he begs on to another question, where have these monsters, or rather, these shaped-shaped humans, gone?

Quill turned his head and saw the rays of the setting sun shining into the room, and he suddenly felt a sense of sadness in the slime-filled office.

If human beings only exist in another form, then the luck of those monsters being wiped out will become another complicated taste—should other forms of human beings be eliminated?

Quill glanced at the travel tabloid he held in his hand, and the beautiful language was full of wistfulness, and it was not difficult to imagine that perhaps the reporter who wrote the story would have chosen to travel with his family to the sites he had praised this holiday season.

Maybe it's a trip full of tentacles and slime, but won't they be happy about it? Won't there be any more fond memories?

They may have changed their way of thinking and no longer perceive the world with thoughts and emotions that humans can understand, but they also have a clear feeling of being alive, and another level of joy, anger and sorrow.

But someone ruined it all.

Standing in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows looking at the sunset over New York's Central Park, Quill genuinely didn't want to draw an analogy to a slime monster that might have existed.

But if this monster can no longer enjoy the beautiful scenery, but can only appreciate the absurd, then perhaps, the absurd also has the beauty of the absurd.

Looking along the endless grand sunset, the huge temple that had long since disappeared was heard with the sound of "rumbling" twilight drums, and there was also a faint, guilty sigh.

I spend about two months a year thinking about whether human beings are normal or not

(End of chapter)