Illusion Report

"No, no... that’s not it." Carter shook his head, his voice low. "It’s not nullified. It can’t be. I almost forgot—with you, every word is a trap. It’s impossible... You can’t be willing to just get disqualified, not without making any effort, not without trying to get back in, right?"

Fu Tailan said nothing.

"Come to think of it... I don’t have to be afraid of you telling anyone I’m a contestant."

The more he spoke, the more Carter visibly calmed, almost returning to his usual demeanor.

He tapped the phone screen. "When Chaisi obtained an Illusion, you received a notification, didn’t you? If I were a contestant and I got one, Chaisi should have gotten a notification too, right? But I’m not a contestant, so he didn’t get one. He’ll never believe you."

Fu Tailan tried his best to remain calm.

Carter Morgan may have won the birth lottery, but he was no fool.

"Besides, even if they all believe I’m a contestant and come to kill me, so what?"

A light ignited in Carter’s eyes.

"To rule a Nest... We’re talking about ruling a Nest. With a Nest... taking over this entire country would be nothing."

A smile swelled beneath his skin, stretching his lips wide to reveal a cavernous mouth and a set of perfectly white teeth.

"I already have basically everything a person can own in this world. What am I missing? I thought I wasn’t missing anything—other than more money, what else is there to pursue? But that’s not it. It’s not like that at all."

Fu Tailan’s phone screen had gone dark. Carter’s breath fogged the glass.

"You’re blackmailing me? You really think you can blackmail me? Now that you’ve told me about the Nest Dominance Game, I don’t give a damn if you’ve been disqualified, or how it happened."

He twisted sharply in his chair and looked up to face Fu Tailan.

"I don’t care how you do it. If you got in once, you can get in again. Now go collect Illusions for me! Contestant or not, it’s just a title, isn’t it? When you get your status back, you’ll get me in, too. I refuse to believe it—if you have six of the seven Illusions, you’re telling me you won’t get your status back? Even if you don’t, go kill every other contestant! I want to see how this game plans to continue when there’s no one left and it still won’t take you!"

Fu Tailan reached over with his right hand and peeled the medical tape off the back of his left.

Carter, agitated, had a face slick with oily sweat, his gums flecked with spittle.

"You listen to me, Fu Tailan. Your father is in my hands. If I want, he can go through the entire execution process without you ever laying eyes on him again. The next time you see your dear old dad, he’ll be in the electric chair. If you want Fu Han—"

Before he could finish, Fu Tailan had already pulled the IV needle from the vein in the back of his hand.

His upper body, held together only by painkillers, felt like it was about to tear open again as he suddenly flung his arm up. A sharp wave of agony made his vision go black—but it didn’t matter. He had already zeroed in on Carter’s trachea.

The needle, its tip still beaded with blood, shot straight for the spot just above the hollow of Carter’s throat, between his collarbones. Beneath that thin layer of skin lay his vulnerable trachea.

The needle was too small and short. A jab anywhere else might cause pain, but it would also allow Carter to scream for help.

Fu Tailan had no intention of giving him that chance.

He wanted to slit Carter’s trachea, to watch him die in this hospital room as his throat filled with a wet, gurgling sound.

’As for Fu Han... once Carter is dead, I’ll hardly be able to escape myself. Let fate decide what happens to him. I’m so tired. I don’t want to—’

The Fu Tailan of old, facing an agitated and defenseless Carter, would have plunged the needle into his trachea without a problem.

He preferred to manipulate situations with his intellect, but that didn’t mean he was incapable of violence.

At the last second, however, the muscles in his back seized as if they were about to tear, sapping his strength. The needle pierced Carter’s skin but failed to puncture his trachea.

"Help!" Carter flung himself back, sending both himself and the chair crashing into the vitals monitor. He screamed, "Someone, get in here! He’s attacking me!"

’So he really did have people posted outside.’

Fu Tailan grabbed a random electrical cord and kicked the chair away. Since he couldn’t puncture the trachea, he would crush it instead.

’A pity the symptoms of my Nest Dissociation Syndrome are gone,’ he thought calmly.

Over the two days he had been unconscious, his awareness had occasionally drifted close to the surface. The very reason it had taken him two full days to wake up properly was that he had been trapped by the Nest Dissociation Syndrome the entire time.

Fu Tailan clearly remembered that, in his semi-conscious state, he could still reach across a pitch-black abyss toward a distant shore, just as he had while fighting Chaisi. He couldn’t recall what he had been reaching for.

’So why did it have to disappear now of all times?’

’If only I still had it—’

"Supervisor."

Fu Tailan froze.

It wasn’t because of the word "Supervisor."

Accompanying the word "Supervisor" was the crisp click of a pistol’s safety being released.

He turned his head and saw Remy standing in the doorway. The light from the hall created a soft halo around her dark hair.

The gun’s muzzle, aimed right at him, was dark and deep. It was like one of the spatial rifts he sometimes saw during a Nest Dissociation flare-up—a little like the one he’d seen at the clinic. Except, of course, there weren’t multiple heads of Dr. Cole popping out of this one.

"Stop," Remy said, her tone almost apologetic. "...You can’t kill him. I can’t let you."

Fu Tailan loosened his grip on the wire.

His eyes remained fixed on Carter. Through ragged breaths, he asked in a low voice, "Have you been watching me for the past two days?"

Remy walked into the room, closed the door, and then answered softly, "I was just following orders. I don’t know anything."

Fu Tailan let out a sharp, humorless laugh.

Carter pulled the needle out, his face twisting in pain as he swore.

He used the machine to pull himself up, keeping his distance from Fu Tailan. He grinned. "Son of a bitch. So you do have an impulsive side? Good. It seems you and your father really are close. Since you care so much about dear old dad, do I even need to tell you what to do? You know your job now, so I’ll be waiting for your progress reports, right?"

’How laughable.’

Originally, Fu Tailan had thought that winning control of the Nest would set him free—that he could finally pry Fu Han’s fingers from around his ankles.

It was a nice thought, but if the risks were too high, he could always choose not to compete. In the end, the worst that could happen was things going back to how they were.

But only after he was disqualified did he realize he had no way out. He had to force his way back into the game, no matter what—and the reason was still Fu Han.

Fu Tailan looked away, grabbed his phone, and turned toward the door.

"Supervisor," Remy called out. "Where are you going? You can’t be discharged yet..."

"Get out of my way," Fu Tailan said.

Before Remy could react, Carter laughed.

"Let him go. It’s fine," Carter said. "He won’t get far. He can’t get away. He’ll be back. After all, we have a contract."

Remy hesitated for a moment, then stepped aside.

Fu Tailan reached out and grabbed the doorknob. A powerful wave of déjà vu nearly made him stumble back, but in the same instant, he pushed the handle down and pulled the door open.

’...What’s going on?’

Fu Tailan stared down the hospital corridor, momentarily dazed.

’Reaching a hand into the darkness, feeling for a doorknob, pressing down... and gently pulling the door open.’

’Why... does this feel so familiar?’

’It’s as if I just did this exact same thing not long ago. When was it? Haven’t I been unconscious this whole time?’

’What door did I open?’

The flicker of confusion passed, and Fu Tailan’s thoughts returned to the present moment.

Not far behind him, Carter’s voice followed. "...The game in exchange for your father. You remember that, right?"