Illusion Report

You can’t be saved, the old woman said.

Mai Mingle was in a narrow room with it.

The room had no doors or windows, more like a solid, pitch-black, hollow iron block. She had already forgotten how she got in.

The room was only as tall as a squatting person. She crouched on the floor, the ceiling pressing down heavily on her head, leaving no space to straighten her neck.

The old woman pressed tightly against her, squatting beside her, behind her, in front of her. Mai Mingle was squeezed in the middle, forced to curl into the smallest possible ball, her arms wrapped around her shins.

You can’t be saved, the old woman said.

Besides Mai Mingle, the other two Hunters in the interview had also been seized by residents, unable to break free. Emily had, without realizing it, even attracted two residents to come after her. That was because the Nest’s residents liked confident people.

Mai Mingle didn’t know how she knew, but she just knew:

Li Stan was struggling to stay sane, but his control over his own mind was loosening, becoming harder and harder to maintain.

Every time he lost control, a corresponding part of his body would fall into disarray. Right now, if anyone were to bend down and look into his ear, they would find a frantically rolling eyeball deep within the ear canal.

"I don’t think I can hold on much longer... Maybe coming to the Kai Family interview was a mistake."

Twenty meters away, in another world, Li Stan muttered to himself, "If I die in this Nest... someone has to write a description of what I looked like before I died so I can crawl in crawl into that text description I can be resurrected from that text can you can anyone who hears this who sees this you must write it down oh—"

Emily, on the other hand, would perhaps be lucky in the way she died.

She hadn’t noticed a single thing was wrong.

In her perception, she had just stuck her phone back into the crack a moment ago, trying to record the voices from inside. To avoid turning her back on the entrance to the Tourist Information Center, she had cautiously only turned her head to the side.

She believed she was still maintaining a high level of vigilance and would immediately notice any movement around her.

But there was no movement.

The street was quiet, peaceful. Nothing was out of the ordinary. There was no danger.

So Emily just kept squatting and squatting and squatting and squatting, recording and recording and recording and recording, on and on and on and on...

A single bullet was all it would take to knock the "Back-Floater" resident off and snap Emily back to her senses, but there was no one nearby who could do it.

I heard the other two Hunters from the interview were pretty lucky. They landed far away from you, so they weren’t dragged down by you. They found clues early on and have all gone to "Annie’s Warehouse."

The old woman covered her eyes with her hands, revealing a mouth that should not be looked at.

From every angle, all at once, it spoke to Mai Mingle. Only these two were unlucky enough to run into you. Now everyone else has gathered together. There isn’t a single Hunter left nearby who can save anyone.

Give up, the old woman said.

Let go of your shins and it can all be over, it’s going to end sooner or later anyway let go of your shins, so why suffer a little longer, why endure a little more pain let go of your shins?

Just like life, let go of your shins you live for decades and in the end you’ll die sooner or later anyway, and 99% of people end up tormented by illness, dying in pain let go of your shins. So why endure it, just give up early, become a resident in the Nest, let go of your shins, free and unfettered, doing as you please, settling all scores, comfortable in body, what’s not to like, let go of your shins.

Mai Mingle held her shins tighter.

It seemed the only things she could truly feel were her own legs and feet.

A thousand-ton concrete ceiling pressed on her head, pinning her neck down, her body curled tightly like a shrimp, but none of these sensations were very clear—she couldn’t feel the muscles in her back spasming, nor was her neck sore.

Only her legs and feet, as if supporting an unimaginable burden, were trembling, unsteady, and shaky, yet still desperately straining—

Straining... what was she straining for?

Mai Mingle jolted, and then she remembered.

She was walking down the street crowded with "Tourist Information Centers."

She didn’t know when she’d been thrown into this narrow stone cage. By the time she realized there was a resident clinging to Emily’s back, she also discovered she had no way to get rid of the old woman.

It was clamped tightly around Mai Mingle’s neck, boring into her skull bit by bit. She was powerless against it, unable to even shout for help or give a warning.

If she couldn’t get rid of the old woman, then there was only one thing to do, wasn’t there?

The stupidest way.

If you can’t shake it off, then drag it along with you while you can still move.

On the verge of losing consciousness, Mai Mingle struggled and took a step around the corner.

Another step.

Each step was as long and difficult as reliving eighty-six years.

The old woman only had a grip on her neck, but her feet were still free. Even if each step was so difficult it felt like it was draining her life away, even if it felt like she was dragging a thousand-ton weight, she could still move her feet—which meant there was still a sliver of a chance.

Ah, right. It seemed to be right when she finally made it around the corner that Mai Mingle found herself squatting in the stone room.

The old woman pressed in on Mai Mingle, omnipresent and tight. The stone room was filled with the smell of its mouth.

A moment ago, Mai Mingle thought it was saying "let go of your shins." But listening closely, she found another layer of words hidden beneath the sounds, shapes, and sentences:

Give up, you’re so tired... so tired you can’t even open your eyes.

A person has to listen to their heart, listen to their body once in a while. You’ve been stubbornly fighting against life for so many years... so tired, you’re truly exhausted...

The old woman’s presence, the old woman’s voice, the constricting stone room—it all seemed to be coming from inside her own brain. It had already burrowed its way in. But at the same time, it was still behind her, gripping Mai Mingle’s neck in a death lock.

Mai Mingle took another step.

A normal person would have given up long ago, right? She really, really wanted to give up too.

She honestly didn’t know what she was risking her life for. To pass the interview and join the Kai Family? To steal back the lipstick and sell it to the mayor? To then get the clue for the "Time" Illusion and be reborn?

Such a long road, one step after another, with no end in sight. It would be so much easier to give up.

’No, I don’t want to reach the end either,’ Mai Mingle thought. ’I just need to take one more step.’

’Just one step, and then I’ll give up right away.’

She took a step forward.

’One more step, just one, and then I can give up. Then it’ll be easy.’

"Didn’t I tell you to give up?"

The old woman’s howl suddenly rang out, sharp and real, right next to her ear. This time it wasn’t an echo in the stone room of her mind. "Haven’t you just been drifting along your whole life? Have you forgotten? You wasted eighty-six years in a daze, and now you decide you want to chase a goal? On what grounds? Because you’re so special?"

Mai Mingle opened her mouth, her lips parting and closing a few times, but no sound came out. Her vocal cords were constricted, with not a sliver of space left—in truth, the fact that she could still walk forward was a miracle in itself.

"What?" The old woman’s voice paused suddenly as it asked.

...Huh?

Come to think of it, residents always had a way of reminding you, at the most unexpected times, that they originated from people. They had some residual human traits, which, compared to actual humans, seemed even more intense.

For example, curiosity.

Mai Mingle’s lips opened and closed twice more.

"What?" As expected, the old woman shrieked. "What could you possibly have to say at this point what is it you want to say what what what what what I’m not going to change my mind about strangling you I’m not curious but what is it you want to say?"

Emily was just a short distance ahead... As if in a great hurry, Mai Mingle’s lips twitched rapidly a few times.

"Are you begging for mercy? Are you pleading? Are you trying to negotiate?"

With immense effort, Mai Mingle managed to force a puff of air from her nose in negation.

The old woman fell silent for a moment. During that time, she took another step.

"I’ll loosen up just a tiny, tiny bit, you hear? Don’t you think for a second I’m letting go. Speak. What is it you want to say? Let me hear it, so I can have a good laugh at you."

Air and sound began to flow, revived and strengthened a little, from her throat and chest.

The old woman’s curiosity hadn’t given Mai Mingle any chance to escape. She was still being crushed by the stone room, her consciousness still trapped in the old woman’s breath. The only difference was that she could now manage a faint, hoarse whisper, like the last breaths of her husband who died of throat cancer.

"Do you know why... I like... the Nest?"

The old woman was quiet for a few seconds. "You like the Nest? You still like it now? Even when you’re being tortured to the brink of death, you like it?"

"Yes... I like it."

Mai Mingle said in her raspy voice, taking another step. The muscles and bones in her legs felt as if they could shatter and scatter at any moment, clattering to the ground in a heap.

"The human world... it looks big, but it’s so constricting. So many invisible... walls. No, they look like walls... but they’re actually people. The ones blocking you, tying your hands... it’s all people, and the tools people created. The path they leave for you... is very, very narrow..."

She was now behind Emily.

The old woman seemed only able to attack one body part at a time. If it were to switch from her neck to her legs to stop her from walking, then all the physical distortion Mai Mingle had endured so far would have been for nothing. You see, when someone gets inside your head, it’s not just them affecting you; you also get to know them.

"So, I could only drift along...

"But... the Nest is different. The Nest has so many rules, so many residents... but what I do, what I can do... that’s up to me... Fighting you is interesting, too. It feels more like living than before. I’d rather fight a hundred of you than be crushed by mountain-like... debt, waking up in the middle of the night with a panicked heart, crying..."

Mai Mingle drew the empty pistol from her waist.

People born in her era were, generally speaking, more frugal and cherished their possessions.

Even an empty gun, she wouldn’t just casually toss it aside. Such heavy metal, such fine craftsmanship—how could you throw it away like trash just because the bullets were gone?

Mai Mingle raised the pistol high and smashed it down on the back of the unmoving Emily’s head.

With both hands still gripping her neck, she couldn’t even look down. She could only fumble by feel, striking again and again. Whether the "Back-Floater" resident had jumped off, whether the real rule had fallen away, Mai Mingle couldn’t see.

Before the old woman could tighten her grip again, she desperately squeezed out a shout: "Emily, tear up the rule, call for the Poster!"