Illusion Report

"...Selling information like this, how much do you really expect to make?"

Megan wasn’t one to mince words.

A few minutes earlier, when she had opened the bar door and seen Mai Mingle, her first words of greeting had been—"You again!"

The bar wasn’t open yet. She was in the middle of cleaning, preparing for the evening.

The bar was dim and quiet. The air, as if it had been tormented and trampled by countless people, carried a wrinkled exhaustion. It hardly seemed like the same place Mai Mingle had visited yesterday.

Mai Mingle had thought her proposal would startle Megan into immediately posting the news. She was startled, alright—but instead of her phone, she reached for a mop.

"There are thousands upon thousands of tidbits about the Nest. Every single person who comes back from the Nest brings some information with them. And most of that gets exchanged when Hunters are drinking, chatting, and sharing what they’ve learned. People need to communicate, you know? You can’t just wait to see cash before you open your mouth, or no one would hang out with you. The ones left who are trying to trade for money are one of only two types."

She had the two of them, both with injured feet, sit down in a booth before slamming her mop into a bucket and churning the water vigorously.

It was like a strange, miniature lecture.

Megan, the retired Hunter who worked in the bar, had seen the world come and go. It seemed you only needed to grab a loose thread and give a gentle tug, and a whole ball of wool—messy, perhaps, but substantial—of her thoughts and observations would unravel from her mouth.

"One type is info that, for various reasons, has been fabricated, exaggerated, or embellished. It’s sensational, a mix of true and false, designed to pique curiosity and make a quick buck. The other type is genuinely valuable—but that value usually has a ceiling. Generally speaking, it doesn’t exceed five hundred dollars."

"Only five hundred?" Mai Mingle asked, stunned.

"A certain path in the Nest has become impassable, a new resident has popped up somewhere... information like that won’t even fetch five hundred. You can close a deal for two or three hundred. And it has to be brand new. Anything over a month old is worthless."

"How can that be?" Mai Mingle felt a surge of righteous indignation, not entirely for her own sake. "Isn’t knowledge the most precious thing in the world?"

Megan tilted her chin up and looked at the ceiling, thinking. "Now that’s an old-fashioned line. I’ve rarely heard it since I graduated from elementary school."

Hai Luwei coughed and said in a low voice, "Times have changed. This is the age of the information explosion... When there’s a massive flood of information, good and bad all mixed together, how can it be all that precious? It seems that ever since the internet came along, even in Hunter circles, the amount of information has just exploded exponentially."

Mai Mingle recalled her search for the mayor just moments ago. Over ten thousand results had popped up—in just a fraction of a second.

"Truly high-value information is never put up for sale."

Megan slapped the mop head on the floor with a WET THWAP. "For example, information that could get you an Illusion—who would sell that? Or a complete walkthrough for a trap. There are some for sale, but not many, and you can’t tell the real from the fake without risking your own life to test it. That’s why that kind of information is usually kept by the Family Factions."

As she dragged the mop across the floor, she said, "Oh, and there’s one other situation: someone happens to have a specific need. No matter how useless something seems, the moment someone wants to know it, it immediately has value. Value is just something people assign, after all. We had a case here in the bar not long ago. Someone sold information about a Vulture resident’s mutation to the Kai Family. I heard it sold for quite a bit."

Everything she said was right. ’But does that mean I can only wait,’ Mai Mingle thought, ’wait for someone to happen to need the information I have?’

She only had until December 31st to act...

"Of course, I’m not saying I can’t put the word out for you. I’m just giving you a heads-up. You suddenly show up claiming to be a ’Nest encyclopedia’—"

"I wouldn’t say an encyclopedia," Mai Mingle chimed in. "More like thirty or forty subjects’ worth. I wasn’t a resident for that long, after all."

"Fine, the ’Nest Thirty-Subject Expert,’" Megan said. "Like I was saying, it’s sensational enough. But the number of people who are actually willing to spend money—big money—and then have to figure out for themselves if the information is true and reliable? There are probably far fewer of them than you think."

’Seems like making money is terrifyingly hard, no matter what era you’re in.’

"If it weren’t for your injured foot, I’d suggest you go back into the Nest," Hai Luwei sighed. "The hope of getting another Illusion seems better than this."

If she went back into the Nest, the risks would extend far beyond her injured foot.

Mai Mingle could just imagine it. The moment she entered the Nest, the news would instantly spread among the residents. Countless residents who wanted her eliminated from the Nest Dominance Game would surge toward her like a tidal wave.

’It was strange, though. I don’t even want to win the Dominance Game, so why are the residents so fixated on me?’

Mai Mingle stuck her hands in her pockets, feeling as dejected as Hai Luwei. "Well... miss, whatever the case, please just go ahead and register me."

Megan took out her phone, her fingers flying as she edited a message.

"Someone who became a resident and has returned to human form... claims to have a large volume of Nest information, available for paid consultation... How does this look? Our bar doesn’t verify the authenticity of the information. Anyone buying info talks to the seller face-to-face, at their own risk."

Mai Mingle glanced at the screen. Just as she was saying, "That’s fine," she thought of something else.

"I don’t necessarily need money," she said. "If someone is willing to trade, taking me to the mayor would also be fine."

If Hai Luwei had meant to stop her, he was a step too late—Megan’s head snapped up.

"Why do you want to see the mayor?" Her eyes suddenly gleamed with interest.

It was probably an occupational hazard from her time as a Hunter—this need to dig to the root of anything interesting. But Mai Mingle saw no need to be secretive about this.

Other than the Nest Dominance Game, which shouldn’t be mentioned, being open and honest about the rest would actually leave less room for suspicion.

The best way to prevent prying was to be forthcoming herself.

"I want to sell him the lipstick."

Hai Luwei turned his head to stare at the wall, as if her candor made him so uncomfortable he didn’t know what to do with himself.

"Why the mayor, specifically?" Megan pressed.

Mai Mingle thought for a moment. "I heard the mayor needs this kind of Illusion."

This wasn’t a lie—the Nest must have determined he needed it, which is why it required Mai Mingle to sell the lipstick to him.

"Hmm, that’s actually a real possibility," Megan nodded, seemingly finding the logic sound. "Besides, he can afford the price. Okay, I’ll add a line for you... There. Take a look. If it’s good, I’ll post it."

Since she planned to sell the lipstick to the mayor, the previous listing for the lipstick Illusion would have to be taken down.

"Ah, what a shame, one less commission," Megan said regretfully. "Our service fee for closing an information deal is nothing compared to what we get for an Illusion sale..."

The bar’s internal commission structure seemed to have its own intricacies; it felt like the servers were always particularly proactive about drumming up and facilitating business.

"Can you send me the previous listing for the lipstick?"

Mai Mingle listened to the words coming out of her own mouth. They were the kind of words young people used. Even though she was still a little fuzzy on the concepts, it felt new and incredible. "I might be able to use it."

Earlier today, she had used "Mai Mingle’s" identification, said she was setting up a contract for her grandmother, and had just gotten the first phone number of her life. She was still thrilled about it. Right now, her contacts list only had Hai Luwei, which she felt was too lonely. She insisted on exchanging numbers with Megan as well, so the two numbers could keep each other company.

"Sent," Megan said. "But I deleted the photos I took before, and the re-downloaded ones are a little too blurry. You’d better take some new ones yourself."

Mai Mingle didn’t understand any of the talk about downloading, but she understood that she needed to take new photos.

That was great. Hai Luwei had just taught her how to take photos, and she was still fascinated and eager to give it another try.

She had already taken a bunch of photos: pigeons huddled together eating trash, a dachshund wearing a cartoon character outfit, a pane of glass spiderwebbed with cracks but still stubbornly holding on in its frame, a row of all-blue bicycles that were supposedly for sharing...

Everything looked interesting through the lens. Eventually, Hai Luwei had to persuade her, "Can’t you take a picture of something useful for a change?"

’Well, here’s something useful, isn’t it?’

She immediately reached into her pants pocket and grabbed the lipstick—

Suddenly, the hair all over her body stood on end.

The wave of alarm and chill came so suddenly that before she could even process what was wrong, she had already slapped the lipstick onto the table. It landed with a heavy THUD.

For a lipstick, this Illusion was exquisitely crafted. Even the cap was made of metal...

Three pairs of eyes stared at the table, watching the lipstick cap roll a few times before coming to a stop.

...Only the cap.