Staring at Each Other: Reading Through the Death Row Prisoner in Three Seconds

My name is Aaron, a full-time reader for the national S-level secret project "Sighting". My job: Connect the device to the sample's pupils, and read the memory that the other person least wants to know in 2 to 3 seconds. Then put it into a sealed bag, push it into the window, smoke a cigarette, put it out, and tell yourself: That's it for today. The samples include humans and others. Mud shell, white shell, empty shell, others. I don't ask what they are. I don't know where the memory went, I don't know the purpose of the project, I don't ask questions. This is how I survive. All I know is: 3 to 4 servings a day. If you exceed that, you will get out of control. I am not the chosen one, I am just consumables and can be replaced at any time. And never ask. But some things will come to you even if you don't ask. For example, a cold blue arc appeared in the fragments of a certain sample. For example, after Weaver Girl put the medicine that day, she did not return to her original position. The scariest thing about this job isn't the memory itself. But you start to be unable to distinguish which memories belong to others and which are your own.