Chapter 5: END
Translated by Addis of Exiled Rebels Scanlations
When I woke up, it was not nurses sitting by my bed, but a line of soldiers with guns.
Within minutes, General Will came in hurriedly. His eyes were bloodshot, and his rims were blue. His hair, which was usually meticulously combed, hung down a few loose strands. His eyes were fierce as if he wanted to tear me apart.
I struggled to adjust my posture and looked down to see my hands handcuffed to the bedstead, with surveillance equipment attached to my chest and fingers. I gave him a bitter smile and asked him in a dry voice, “Maybe I fell asleep for two days? “
“He’s dead.” The general did not answer, but looked at me coldly, “Tell me, what have you done?”
“No, I’m not dead.”
I looked at him, and his expression changed from anger to amazement, “General, is that Dr. Watson who you are referring to? He’s not dead. He’s right here, in front of you. “
“But… You… “
“I’m Harriet Jones,” I said, “Yes. My body is Jones, my brain is Jones, everything is. But I’m Watson too.”
General Will straightened up a little and stepped back. He had never heard me speak with my mouth, but he had talked to me with a headband many times, and he recognized the way I spoke.
“It can’t be…” He stared at me, his voice shaking.
I said, “After a person falls into deep sleep, the brain will automatically clear redundant information to ensure that it continues to function healthily. When two people establish a connection, if one of the hosts falls asleep, the other’s consciousness will be removed as superfluous. Mr. Jones and I have been connected many times, and each time, he is constantly mining information from me… Maybe he got too much.” At this point, I gave a wry smile, “He asked for something different from what you asked, you just want specific information, but he… It’s like he wanted everything related to me.”
What he took away already belonged to him, so it wasn’t superfluous information, but something that he chose to remember on his own initiative. It’s like the appearance of a new friend, unfinished work, poetry that you read and recited. He almost became me, apart from personality.
When Christmas came, I couldn’t control myself. I couldn’t close the door, I shouldn’t have opened it for him.
What they gave me turned into a hurricane, and Mr. Jones was engulfed and torn up by this huge message until he fell asleep with an electric shock.
Originally I thought I would die like the theory. When I opened my eyes again, I also had a brief period of confusion. When I saw General Will, I saw my body again, and I understood what had happened.
Mr. Jones is not dead, by reason. I can remember sitting in the isolation room studying, remember the patients I had taken care of, what happened when I first went to prison and all the busy work before that, I could even recall every game I lost as a child. Mr. Jones’s memory is deeply rooted in this brain, and so is Watson’s memory. No one has disappeared.
However, there is always something that the brain thinks is unnecessary and will be deleted and disappeared… What would that be?
Now I have a clear sense of myself and know that I am Watson. Physically, though, I should be Harriet Jones.
General helped me to my seat, as carefully as he had done with my old, dry, and thin body. I looked down at my hands and remembered how warm they were when they touched my skin.
People opened my handcuffs and took me out of the room. Every once in a while, I tried to call Mr. Jones, and each time I heard no answer.
I could walk into the instrument without having to be carried in. After that, I will probably return to my original life, as there are countless questions waiting for me. I’ll give them whatever they need.
Now I have my own room, which, though still under supervision, was much better than a glass compartment. I was in the bathroom looking at Mr. Jones in the mirror, with short black hair, a healthy young body, and the pale skin. I called him again, but only I could answer.
I slowly raised my hand and held my shoulders.
I like to connect with you because it’s like being hugged.
The next day, General Will asked me what to do with Watson’s body. I don’t know why he asked for my advice. Maybe he was worried about secrets on the body. I told them they could handle it at will, but I wanted to hold it before it’s carried it away.
I stroked my icy skin, lifted my frightfully emaciated body, and pressed it against my chest. Watson used to be unable to carry such heavy objects, but Mr. Jones could. I put my arms around Watson, kissed him on the lips, and said goodbye to him.
General Will waited for me to finish all this, came up, and let me follow them out. I nodded and obediently walked beside him and a group of researchers.
“I’ve heard it, too.” In front of the conference room, General Will looked back at me. I realized that I was humming that old folk song.
Dark is the color of my lover’s hair, and his lips are like roses,
I love that charming face and those elegant hands wherever he is.
My love knows this love. I love every meadow he passes by,
If there is no trace of him in the world, my life will be silent for a moment.
I will climb up the mountain, mourn and cry, and I won’t even sleep,
Only a few words are written to you, and I will be tortured a million times until I die.
The cold winter is over and the leaves are green. We can see the time passing by in a hurry.
And I’m still looking forward to that day when we’ll be one.