Chapter 2 stealth criminal

I was found guilty, and it was announced that I was sentenced to "invisibility" for one year, commencing on May 11, 2104 AD.They then took me into a dark room below the courthouse and marked me on the forehead. Two burly men employed by the municipalities did just that. "One of them pushed me on a chair and the other held up a soldering iron. "It doesn't hurt at all," said the thick man with the tablet-like palm and pushed the soldering iron to my forehead, a cool feeling and it was over. "What now?" I asked. There was no answer, and they turned and left the room without saying a word.The door is open.I can leave or stay here, it's up to me.Because of the symbol on my forehead, no one talks to me or takes a second look at me, I'm invisible.

You have to understand that my so-called invisibility is purely metaphorical.I still have flesh and blood.People can see me—an absurd punishment?However, the crime is equally absurd.I committed the so-called sin of indifference, refusing to share my troubles with others. I have committed this crime 4 times, so will be subject to a year of "invisibility" punishment", I am now invisible. I walked out of the room into the warm world outside. It rained in the afternoon.The rain on the street is slowly drying up, and the air garden is filled with the breath of growth.Men and women are busy with their own business.I walked among them, but they paid no attention to me, and the punishment for speaking to an invisible prisoner was invisibility for a month, a year, or longer, depending on the severity of the crime.I wonder if this regulation will be strictly followed.I soon found out.

I stepped into the elevator and let myself be spun up to the Sky Garden.This is the 11th floor, the cactus garden, and the strange gnarled shape fits my mood.I stepped onto the platform and walked towards the counter at the entrance to buy a ticket.Behind the counter sat a pale woman with glassy eyes. I put down the coins.There was a hint of fear in her eyes, but it disappeared quickly. "A ticket," I said. no answer.People lined up behind me.I repeat my words.The woman raised her head helplessly, then looked over my left shoulder.A hand reached out and a coin was placed on the counter.She put away the hard market and gave the ticket to the man.He put his vote in the ballot box and went in.

"Buy me a ticket," I said clearly. Others push me away.Not a word of apology.I began to feel the meaning of my "invisibility".They actually treated me like they couldn't see me. But there are also benefits of compensation.I went around behind the counter and got a ticket without paying.Since I am invisible, others cannot stop me.I stuffed the ticket into the ballot box and went into the garden. But cacti also bore me.I felt an indescribable discomfort all over my body, and I didn't want to stay any longer.When I came out, I touched a thorn on my finger and bled.At least the cactus still acknowledges my existence.Made me bleed a little, that's all.

My mind is in a mess.I came to the restaurant and stood at the door for half an hour, passing the head waiter repeatedly.They've obviously been through this many times before.I realized that going to the table and sitting down would be a waste of time.No waiter will come to serve me. I can walk into the kitchen.I can take whatever I like.I can disrupt the normal business of a restaurant.But I decided against it.Society has its own way of dealing with invisible prisoners. I leave the restaurant.Dinner at a nearby automatic restaurant.Then headed home in an auto-taxi.Machines, like cacti, do not discriminate against people like me.I feel they will be my only companions for a year.

I go back to my apartment.My books are waiting for me, but I have no interest in them.I sprawled out on my little bed, building up my strength, fighting the strange fatigue that tormented me, and contemplating my "invisibility." It won't be too bitter, I said to myself.I have never been too dependent on others.Was I not condemned for my indifference to my fellow man?So what do I need them for now?Just let them ignore me!It must be very leisurely anyway I don't have to go to work for a year and the Invisible Prisoner doesn't have to go to work.How can we work?Who would go to see an invisible doctor, hire an invisible lawyer to defend him, or send paperwork to an invisible secretary?No work, of course, no income, but the landlord does not charge rent to the invisible prisoner.Self-defense criminals can go wherever they want without spending money.I have already experienced this in the Hanging Garden.

I think stealth punishment is nothing more than a big social joke.They sentenced me to a year of self-cultivation, that's all, nothing serious. The day after "invisibility" is a day of further experimentation and discovery.I went out for long walks, walking the sidewalks cautiously.I've heard of boys running and knocking down people with invisibility marks on their foreheads, and taking pleasure in doing so.Again, no one will come to help you, and they will not be punished.I am in danger of being tricked.I walked the street and watched the crowd avoid me.I cut through the crowd like a microtome cutting through cells.They are well trained.By noon I saw my first invisible compatriot.He was a tall, solid, serious man of middle age, with that stamp of infamy stamped on his round brow.His and my eyes only met for a moment, and he continued to walk forward.An invisible criminal is also invisible to his kind.I just have fun.I'm still savoring the novelty of this lifestyle.Indifference and indifference do not hurt me.Not yet.

This evening I came to a women's bathroom.I smiled maliciously and walked up the steps.The attendant at the door gave me a surprised look—but dared not stop me.It's a small victory for me to say the least.I walked in. The strong soapy smell and sweaty smell hit the face.go inside.I passed the cloakroom, where the clothes were hanging in rows, and it occurred to me that I could search the pockets of these clothes for money, but I didn't.Stealing has become too easy to lose its meaning, and those smart people who invented stealth punishment are certainly not stupid. I walked forward and walked into the bath pool.

Hundreds of women bathe there.Developed into hot big girls, tired young women, shriveled old crones.Some blushed; a few snickered.More people turned their backs to me.But they are very careful not to make any substantive reaction to my appearance.The bathroom matron stands there, and if someone behaves inappropriately with the invisible prisoner; who knows if she'll report it? So I watched them take a bath and saw their naked bodies flashing in the steam. My feelings were somewhat contradictory. Being able to swagger into this secret place gave me a sense of sly satisfaction.On the other hand, there is a feeling slowly growing in my head - is it sadness?bored?Or disgusted?ashamed?

I can't analyze it, this latter feeling is like a sticky hand in my throat.I hurried away.The smell of soapy water irritated my nostrils for hours to come. That night, as soon as I closed my eyes, I would see the scene in Yu's room.Before long, my novelty of the punishment wore off quickly. By the 3rd week I was sick.It started with a high fever, followed by stomach pain, vomiting, and everything else that followed.By midnight I thought I was dying.The convulsions made me miserable, and when I managed to go to the toilet, I saw my face in the mirror was deformed, my complexion was developed, and sweat dripped out.On my pale forehead, the emblem of invisibility stands out like a beacon.

I lay on the tile floor for a long time, weakly absorbing its coolness.I was thinking: What if appendicitis occurs?This discarded residue, inflamed, about to get pierced? I need to see a doctor.The phone is covered with dust.They didn't take the trouble out of it.But since I was convicted of stealth, I haven't called anyone, and no one dared to call me.The penalty for knowingly calling an invisible prisoner is invisibility.My friends, or friends from the past, avoided me. I grabbed the phone and dialed the dial.The call was connected and the robot operator said, "Sir, who would you like to speak to?" "Doctor," I gasped. "Yes, sir." Calm, unnatural mechanical voice!The law cannot make a robot invisible, so it can talk to me without restriction. The screen lights up. "A doctor's voice said," what's wrong with you? " "Stomach trouble. Probably appendicitis." "We're going to send a—" He stopped. I made a mistake and looked up my pained face.The doctor saw the mark on my forehead and his eyes lit up. The screen flickered and went black, so fast it was as if I had stretched out a leprosy hand for him to kiss. "Doctor," I moaned. he's gone.I twitched my face with my hands.This is going too far.Does the Hippocratic Oath allow this?Can a doctor turn a blind eye to the patient's voice and turn a deaf ear to it? Hippocrates knew nothing about the invisible, and doctors cannot care for the invisible.I simply don't exist for society as a whole.Doctors can never heal the invisible.I just endured it.This is the downside of "stealth".You can go to the bathroom unimpeded if you want to, but you're also left alone when you're writhing in bed.This will last and then will disappear.If your appendix bursts, ha, isn't that a powerful warning to others who might follow in your footsteps! My appendix is ​​not ruptured.I survived, but very badly.A person can survive without talking to anyone for a year.He can ride in an automatic car, he can eat in an automatic restaurant.But there is no automatic doctor.For the first time in my life I felt overwhelmed.A prison inmate can still see a doctor when he is sick.I'm not guilty enough to go to jail, but I'm sick and there's no doctor to treat me.It's not fair.I curse the devil who invented the punishment of "invisibility".Every day I greet the dreary dawn alone, as lonely as Robinson Crusoe on his desert island, and here is a big city with a population of 12 million! How can I describe my mood changes and my many behaviors during these bewildering months? There are many times that "invisibility" is a kind of joy, a kind of enjoyment, and a kind of wealth.When I was paranoid, I took great pride in the fact that it was exempt from the regulations that bound ordinary people. I steal.I went to the small store to grab the cash box.The innkeeper trembled with terror, but dared not stop me, for fear that if I yelled he would himself be condemned for invisibility.However, I might not be so happy if I knew that the government would compensate for all such losses. I wander around.Bathrooms don't appeal to me anymore, but I'm breaking into other places where people can't just walk in.I went to the hotel and walked the corridors, opening doors at will.Most rooms are empty.There are people in some rooms. I can see everything, like God.I had grown thick-skinned, and my contempt for society had grown stronger. When it was raining, I stood on the empty road and cursed at the looming faces on the tall buildings in all directions: "Who cares?" I laughed, grimaced, and cursed.Thinking it was a kind of insanity brought on by loneliness, I went into the theater and danced in the aisles.No one complained to me.The conspicuous mark on my forehead told them to restrain themselves; they had to swallow it. I alternate between wild and happy, swaggering and swaggering among the "visible" rednecks.Every look around me casts contempt.This is insane - I admit it.It is indeed difficult for a person to balance himself after being forced to "invisible" for several months. Can I call this paranoia?It would be more accurate to call it manic depression.I was groggy, going from one extreme to the other.Yesterday I could dismiss the "visible" idiots around me, and today I'll be self-conscious.I would walk endlessly down the street, through illuminated arcades, or stare at colorful traffic whizzing by on the highway.Don't even come to me for beggars.Did you know that there are still beggars in this shining century of ours?I didn't know until I was sentenced to "invisibility" because my long wanderings since then have taken me to the ghetto.In the slums, the shining appearance of this society is gone, and people see old people with faces like dry sticks dragging around on the ground, begging for a few coppers. No one asks me for money.Once a blind man came by. "For God's sake," he gasped, "help me get a new pair of eyeballs from the eyeball bank." This is the first time in months that someone has spoken to me.I reached into my coat to feel for the money and gave him all the money I had on me as a token of my gratitude.why not?I just have to reach out for the money to flow in.But before I could take out the money, a succubus-like man limped between us with a cane.I heard the man whisper the word "stealth," and the two fled like startled crabs.With the money in my hand, I stood there blankly. Even beggars don't talk to me.Devil, who invented this punishment! My arrogance is gone.I am alone now.Who says I'm cold to people?I am as soft and tame as a sponge, and I hope pitifully that others can say a word to me, smile, and shake hands.This is my 6th month of invisibility. I hate "invisibility" now.The satisfaction it brings is empty, and the pain it brings is unbearable.I doubt I will survive the remaining 6 months.Believe me, suicidal thoughts haunt my mind during these dark days. Finally I did a big stupid thing. , on a walk I came across another stealth, probably the 3rd or 4th I've seen in 6 months, not more than that.As in previous encounters, our eyes looked at each other cautiously.Then he shifted his gaze to the sidewalk, walked past me, and continued on his way.He was a thin young man, not more than forty years old, with unkempt hair and a long, thin face.There was bookishness about him.I wonder what the heck he did was also convicted of invisibility.I was driven by a desire to run after him and ask him, to learn his name, to talk to him, to hug him. All this is forbidden to man.No one can have any contact with an invisible prisoner—even the same invisible prisoner. Invisible prisoners especially cannot contact each other.Society has no intention of forming a secret alliance among the untouchables. I know all this. But I still turned around and followed him. I followed him for 3 blocks, keeping a distance of 20 to 50 paces from him.The robot security police seem to be everywhere, and their scanners are quick to detect violations; so I dare not act rashly.Follow him into a side street, a gray, dirty alley, and then stroll with the slow, blind gait of an invisible prisoner.I catch up from behind. "Please," I said softly. "No one sees here. We can talk. My name is—" He turned and looked at me with terror in his eyes.His face was pale, he stared at me for a moment in surprise, and then he started quickly as if to go around me. I stop him. "Wait a minute", I said. "Don't be afraid. Please—" He rushed past me.I put my hand on his shoulder and he broke free. "Just say one thing," I begged. Not a word.Not even a hoarse "let me pass".He walked past me and ran down the empty street.After he ran around the corner, the sound of Dede's footsteps gradually disappeared. Looking at his back, I felt an extreme sense of loneliness. Then came fear.He didn't violate the invisibility regulations, but I did.I begged him to talk to me, which would get me punished and maybe extend my invisibility.I looked around anxiously, luckily I couldn't see a robot security policeman around. I am alone. I calmed myself down and headed down the street again.Gradually I got control of myself, and I realized that I had done an unforgivably stupid thing.I was distressed by this action, but the emotional trauma of this action made me want to cry.To approach another invisible prisoner in such a panic--openly acknowledging my loneliness, my need--no.It means society has won, and I can't stand that. I found myself not far from the cactus garden again.I took the elevator, grabbed a ticket from the doorman and went in.I searched for a while, and soon found a winding, gorgeous cactus.It is 8 feet tall and is a large thorny monster.I wrung it off, smashed its horn-like leaves into pieces, and pricked my hand with many thorns.People pretended not to see it.I pulled the thorn out of my hand, and the palm was bleeding, and I took the elevator down again, and then I fell into the invisible life of extreme loneliness. The 8th month passed, the 9th month, the 10th month.The change of seasons is about to complete a cycle. My sentence is coming to an end. During the last few months of my "self-defense" I had slipped into a kind of numbness.My mind can only run by inertia, and I have resigned myself to my situation, but I just live in a muddle.I forced myself to read books without any choice in content. One day I read Aristotle's book, the next day I read the Bible, and the day after tomorrow I picked up a mechanics textbook.I can't remember anything; as soon as I turn over a new page, the previous page disappears from my memory. I'm also no longer in the mood to take advantage of some of the advantages of "invisibility," like the thrill of watching obscene scenes and the privilege of doing bad things without much worry.I say that there is no need to worry too much, because when the "Invisibility Act" was passed, a bill that denied humanity was passed along with it: a few people would rather take the risk of "invisibility" to protect their wives and children from being harassed by invisible criminals.No one will allow the invisible criminal to goug out his eyeballs, and no one will allow the invisible criminal to break into his private house. As I have already mentioned, there are safeguards against such violations without blatantly acknowledging the existence of invisible criminals.But it's still possible to do a lot of bad things and get away with it.I had no intention of trying it.Dostoyevsky once wrote in a book, "Without God, everything is possible." I would add: "With the invisible criminal, everything is possible and dull." The truth is in this way. Tiring days go by and I no longer want to count the hours on my fingers.To be precise, I had completely forgotten that my sentence was up.That day, I was reading in my room, turning from one page to another in boredom, when suddenly the doorbell rang.It didn't ring for a whole year.I almost forgot the meaning of this sound. But I opened the door.They, who represent the law, stand there.Without a word they removed the microprint on my forehead.It fell and shattered. "Hello, citizen" they said to me. I nodded solemnly. "Hello." "May 11th, 2105. Your sentence is over. You have paid off your debts. You have returned to society." "Thank you, yes." "Come with us for a drink." "I don't think so." "It's tradition. Let's go." I went with them.I have a weird bare feeling on my forehead right now.I looked in the mirror and there was one spot that looked pale, where it had been marked.They took me to a nearby pub and served me synthetic whiskey, neat and fierce.The bartender smiled at me.Someone in the next seat pats me on the shoulder; asks who I like in tomorrow's jet race. "I don't know," so told him. "You really don't know? I support Kelso. 4:1 bet. He has incredible explosive power." "I'm sorry," I said. "He's been away for a while," a government official accompanying me whispered to my neighbor. The meaning of this euphemism could not be clearer.My neighbor glanced at my forehead and nodded knowingly at the white scar.He also offered to buy me a glass of wine.Although I had already felt the potency of the first drink, I still accepted it.I am part of the human race again.I am "visible".I no longer dare to refuse him coldly.This has the potential to again constitute the crime of indifference.My 5th crime will mean 5 years of "invisibility".I have learned humility. Of course, going back to being visible involves an awkward transition.To meet old friends, to say a lot of boring and empty words, and to restore relationships that have been broken one by one.I was "exiled" in this city for a year, and it was not easy to rehabilitate. Naturally, no one mentioned the period of my "invisibility".It is treated as a hidden pain, and it is best not to mention it.Hypocrisy, I thought, but I accepted it.They certainly avoided hurting my feelings.Would one say to someone who just had a cancerous tumor removed, "I hear you almost died not long ago"?One would say to an old father, to a man staggering to the euthanasia, "Huh, he's about to die, isn't he?" No, of course not. So there is a black hole, a vacuum, or a blank page in our intercourse.It left my friends and I with very little to talk about, especially since I had completely lost the edge of conversation.Recovery will not be easy.But I persisted, because I was no longer the proud and aloof self I was before the conviction.I have learned humility in the harshest of schools. Of course, every now and then I'd see an invisible prisoner walking about in the street.It is impossible to avoid encountering them.I've been trained for this, though, and I look away quickly, as if my eyes were momentarily resting on some monster from another world. However, by the 4th month of my restoration of "visibility"; the effect of my punishment on me has also come to an end.I have returned to the Municipal Document Bureau where I worked, near the city tower.I was walking towards the subway after work when a hand reached out from the crowd and grabbed my arm. "Please," a voice whispered. "Wait a minute. Don't be afraid." I looked up in amazement.In our city, strangers never take the initiative to talk to others.I saw a shiny "invisible" emblem on the man's forehead.Then I recognized him—the young man with whom I had offered to strike up a conversation in a deserted street more than a year earlier.He was haggard; his eyes were mad, his brown hair was speckled with gray.He must have just started serving his sentence then, and his sentence must be coming to an end now. He grabs my arm.I was shaking with fear.This is not a deserted street.This is the busiest square in the city.I freed my arm from his and turned away. "Don't go," he cried. "Can't you have pity on me? You have done it yourself." I took a step and stopped again.I remembered how I had stopped him before, how I begged him not to be cold on me.I thought of my own miserable loneliness. I took another step. "Coward!" he screamed behind me. "Talk to me! Do you dare? Talk to me, coward!" I can not stand it any more.I am tempted.With tears in my eyes, I turned and walked towards him, extending a hand to him.I grab his thin wrist.He seemed overwhelmed and overwhelmed by the contact.Then I hugged him, trying to share some of his grief onto mine. Robot security police approached and surrounded us.He was pulled aside and I was taken into custody. They will try me again -- this time not for coldness, but for passion. Maybe they'll let me go, maybe they won't.I do not care. If they find me guilty, this time I'm going to wear my badge of invisibility like a medal of honor.