Chapter 162: Where the Garbage Goes (End of Volume)
"I'm Andrew Lane, and let me ask you a question: Shouldn't a person own the value of what they create?
"'No,' said the guy from Washington, 'it belongs to the poor.'
"'No,' the guy from the Vatican said, 'it belongs to God.'
"'No,' said the guy from Moscow, 'it belongs to the people.'
"I reject these answers. I choose a different answer. I choose the impossible. I choose - Rapture
“A city where artists no longer fear censorship.
"A city where scientists are not bound by ethics.
“A city where excellence is not bound by ants.
"You have value, and Ecstasy City is your city."
December 31, 1958, under the sea in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, in Rapture City, DeWitt Office.
Booker DeWitt heard a knock on the door, "Who's outside?"
"Client." A woman answered, and three women laughed.
"It's closed!" he replied loudly.
The door was still opened. The sweet voices of orioles and swallows floated in. Booker DeWitt remained silent. When the room was dark, the light from outside shone in, and he could only see the three women at the door.
The silhouettes of their bodies were pitch black, so they came closer, and the three pairs of high-heeled boots made a scattered and itchy clicking sound.
"What are you doing?"
The three women, like the owners of this office, went to draw the blinds and put the kerosene lamps on the table. There were two taller women leaning against the small table by the window.
, and the shorter one stepped forward.
The light under the sea was as hazy as the sunrise in the morning. The short woman's cheeks faced this layer of crisp white light, which cast meaningful shadows on her fascinating deep features. Booker noticed that her eyes were as blue as the sea.
, at this moment, the strong light reflected outdoors is like two clear stars, with complicated cross-sections.
Aquamarine. The woman had a fashionable curly hair, painted mature and pretty eyebrows, and wore bright red lipstick. The plump lip pods were covered with a glaze like enamel, and the fine hair on her face was completely transparent.
Depending on her pretty and childish face, her appearance is like a green peach.
"Borrow me a fire, sir." The woman's eyes flickered and her eyelashes trembled as if she had a deep meaning. Her voice also sounded like a pure girl, raising her hand to hold a slender lady's cigarette between her bright red lips.
The other two women were laughing again. These three were all ladies with outstanding looks, all dressed like fashionable girls. Booker simply looked at the two ladies by the window. One was tall and thin, and the other was stronger and more muscular.
The tall and thin one with black hair has a special mark on the back of his left hand. The sturdier one has gray hair and a scary scar on his face.
The dejected Booker DeWitt stood up slowly, walked to the short woman, rubbed his fingers, and flames ignited from his fingers.
The woman grabbed his wrist and slowly pulled his fingertips closer. The orange light danced on her face. The woman raised her eyes to glance at him for a moment, then lowered her eyelids and lowered her head to light the cigarette.
Her fingers are cold, slender, and soft.
Booker's fingers burned with fire.
The blue smoke curled up.
Booker suddenly came back to his senses and asked, "Ladies, would you mind revealing your names?"
The short woman pointed to herself, "Elizabeth, just call me Elizabeth." Then she turned to look at the other two.
The tall and thin woman glanced up and down at Booker, and just shook her head disdainfully, while the white-haired woman smiled and replied: "Ciri, Ciri of Cintra."
Booker muttered something under his breath, and then asked, "What are you doing?"
Elizabeth smiled, "We came to Rapture City for leisure. By the way, we came to visit you."
"Do we know each other?"
"We know each other, of course we know each other. You and I are very familiar with each other. It's a pity that you have forgotten everything, haven't you?" Elizabeth frowned after taking a slight sip of the cigarette and threw the cigarette away. Booker saw the cigarette on the end.
A bright spark flew into the shadows of the room, then went out and disappeared.
"You know this can easily cause a fire, right?"
"I promise not, I will always throw the garbage into the trash can." The women laughed again. They would always stare at the men and laugh for no reason, with a condescending and mocking attitude.
"Well, I still don't understand why you're here. As you can see, I'm just a little detective with no relatives or friends."
Elizabeth clapped her hands and said, "Okay, Emily, Ciri, you can go deal with Atlas and Ryan, and give me and my father some private space."
The tall and thin woman simply left a "Best wishes" and disappeared. The white-haired woman named Shirley came up and patted Elizabeth on the shoulder, and also teleported out of the room.
Booker was shocked and speechless by what he saw and heard, "Oh! How are they...what are you talking about?"
Elizabeth narrowed her eyes, her sweet cheeks full of danger, "Booker DeWitt, do you remember Wounded Knee River?"
"Please get out!" Booker frowned. He felt that he was involved in huge trouble. This kind of neurotic customer is the most difficult to deal with.
"Do you still think I'm here to trade with you? Well, I'm tired of it, I've seen enough. After I deal with you, I'm going to Paris. Let's make a long story short.
"Booker DeWitt, the Indian butcher at Wounded Knee, was baptized and called himself Zachary Comstock, the Columbian prophet. He traveled through time and space in search of an heir, but in the fight for the baby
, accidentally let the fissure cut off her head. Oh, Comstock, you changed your name and came here, thinking you could escape your sins.
, traveling through the rift allows your brain to create a true lie... making you think you are still Booker DeWitt. How failed is the name Booker in your heart? In so many parallel worlds, you are the only one
A special case. So the one who thought he succeeded was Comstock, and the one who thought he failed was Booker DeWitt. It's really interesting."
Booker DeWitt's nose was bleeding, his brain was in severe pain, and the buried past resurfaced, "I'm sorry, Anna..."
Elizabeth sighed, "Mortals, mortals' fate, God, God's will. In fact, there is no difference."
"Don't go, you, who are you? Why do you know this?"
The woman waved her hand, and the rift opened. Booker DeWitt was dragged by the strong suction and thrown into the rift. He saw a strong light, and then his body dissolved and dissipated in the intense stellar thermal radiation.
"Trash always has its place." Elizabeth murmured to herself. She lowered her head and thought for a while, then shook her head and no longer cared about it all.
The City of Ecstasy was defeated by three women, the crazy social elites met their deaths, and the innocents were brought back to the surface one by one.
Afterwards, they returned to Lu Zongping's bar, but saw no sign of him.
Elizabeth asked people around her where he had gone, and one insider said: "It seems that he went to a mountain."
Another customer waved his hand and said, "There's no need to go to all this trouble. You'll know just by looking at it."
So the guests focused their eyes on the spring in the upper edge, penetrated time and space, and saw a new story.