Illusion Report

The torrential rain thundered, battering the world. The endless downpour became a kind of dead silence.

After a brief moment of quiet, Mercury raised her head, glanced at Mai Mingle, and suddenly smiled. "...You had the same dream, too?"

It wasn’t surprising she could deduce that. Mai Mingle was clearly a stranger to her, yet she recognized Mercury and knew of Siroksha. Both had appeared by the oil tanker at the same time, holding identical heavy machine guns, and both seemed to have just done the exact same thing.

"Yes,"

Mai Mingle glanced at the gun in her hands and quickly put it down. ’What if someone sees this? This is major evidence. Can the rain really wash away fingerprints?’

"In the dream, I was Siroksha first, and then I became you," Mai Mingle said. "It must have been when we were shooting at the pickup truck in the dream. I—we—were actually shooting at this oil tanker in real life."

Perhaps the storm had knocked out the power nearby. Shivering, Mai Mingle realized none of the streetlights were on; the surrounding buildings were completely dark.

She vaguely remembered that after she’d gotten Emily into the ambulance, Hai Luwei had gone to the hospital with her. ’What happened after that?’

’When did I get here? And where did I get this gun? What is going on? This has to be connected to the dream I saw in the waves—but why go to all this trouble to control me and Mercury, just to overturn this oil tanker?’

The oil tanker lay overturned on the side of the road, embedded in the wall of a building. Under the dark, heavy curtain of rain, it looked like a great beast that had collapsed and died on the ocean floor. Its blood had already run dry, washed away by the immense, endless deluge. It lay motionless in the night behind Mercury.

’What happened to the tanker driver? Why was it the target? If I call an ambulance now, what will happen to... to me? After all, I was the one who fired the gun.’

She had too many questions, a chaotic jumble of them, making her head feel like it was buzzing.

Perhaps because her mind was so full of tangled thoughts, she was distracted for a moment. It took her several breaths to realize that Mercury’s gun was aimed at her.

"I see."

The Mercury from Siroksha’s perspective had almost nothing in common with the one before her now.

Wiping the rain from her face with one hand, her other still holding the gun, Mercury smiled and said, "While I was being controlled by the dream, you were too, and right nearby. Don’t you think that’s a bit too convenient? If you have an explanation, now would be the best time to share it."

’She suspects me?’

For a moment, Mai Mingle almost wanted to laugh bitterly.

’She herself only half-understood the situation and had no answers. Besides, talking about seeing a dream in the waves... wouldn’t that just sound like nonsense?’

The only thing she could do now was raise her hands, lest the slightest unintentional movement draw a hail of bullets.

"This,"

Mercury casually swung the machine gun in her hands. The weapon was long and heavy; Mai Mingle’s muscles had been trembling from holding it with both hands just moments ago. In Mercury’s grasp, however, it seemed as light as a toy. "What a coincidence. It’s the same model the police use."

As she said the word "police," the muscles in her face suddenly fell, her smile vanishing along with them, revealing eyes like deep, dark pits.

"...What is your relationship with the police?"

If you closed your eyes and just listened, her tone could almost be described as cheerful and bright.

But if you opened them and looked, you would see that while she was clearly human, it was as if another creature was hidden in her soul, staring out unblinkingly from the black holes of her eyes.

Looking at her, one could hardly tell what it was they were looking at.

This was a side of Mercury that Siroksha had never seen, and had never needed to see.

"I... I have no connection to the police whatsoever," Mai Mingle said.

It was the truth, yet a creeping, sickly green fear made her stutter, as if she lacked conviction.

Mercury smiled.

"When the police want to go after a citizen, they have plenty of ’legitimate’ methods that won’t be questioned," she said cheerfully. "Why would they need to cooperate with a Hunter like you?"

Mai Mingle took a deep breath and decided to take a risk.

"I’m not working with them... I was dragged into this, same as you," she said in a low voice. "Do you hate the police because of the dream just now? But there were no police in that dream."

"That’s right," Mercury said, a pale smile slowly forming on her face in the deep, dark, rainy night. "...The police never showed up at all."

Mai Mingle let out a long breath. She understood. "...When did they arrive on the scene? Too late?"

Mercury was silent for a few seconds.

"They were there from the beginning." Her voice was flat, no longer cheerful. "There happened to be a few on patrol nearby. After the first gunshot, there were already several officers standing outside the concert hall."

Mai Mingle stared at her blankly. "But they didn’t go in?"

"They didn’t go in," Mercury said, almost drawling. "While people were dying inside, one after another, they just stood guard outside, waiting for backup."

The deluge poured down between them. After a moment in the rushing downpour, she suddenly said, "...Twenty-seven dead, countless severely injured. She was one of the first to die."

Mercury sighed, her white breath instantly scattered by the rain. "...I don’t blame myself."

Mai Mingle was quiet for a moment, then nodded.

"If it all had to happen again in exactly the same way, I think she would have made the same choice. What you gave her was what she wanted most in this world."

Mercury paused and glanced at her. "...What’s your name?"

"Mai Mingle."

Mercury nodded, and the gun in her hand slowly lowered. "Hmm, it’s pretty short. Not bad."

Mai Mingle watched the muzzle of the gun lower toward the ground, not daring to let out the breath she was holding. Mercury had one thing in common with a madman: it was impossible to predict her next move.

Even now, she didn’t dare suggest calling an ambulance for the driver. ’It would be trouble if Mercury thought I was trying to call for backup.’

"It would be a pain if I actually had to kill you and your name was really long."

As she spoke, Mercury subconsciously touched her tattoo-covered neck. Patches of inky blue shrouded her skin, revealing only pale gaps, like a tombstone on an overcast day.

A sudden thought struck Mai Mingle.

"Are they all dead?" she asked in a low voice. "The names on your neck, are they all..."

"All people I’ve killed," Mercury said with a light laugh. "I picked some to keep as souvenirs."

Before Siroksha’s death, there were only a few scattered names on her neck. Now, it was covered in ink. Mai Mingle couldn’t even bring herself to ask how many of them were police officers.

Mercury must have known that this was tantamount to tattooing evidence on her own body. It was little different from parading through the streets with a corpse on her back.

If she were ever dragged into court, any jury that saw the names on her neck would sentence her to death without a second thought. Even for a Hunter—

"...I’ve always been waiting for that day," Mercury sighed with something close to satisfaction, her fingers slowly caressing her neck.

Mai Mingle didn’t ask what "that day" meant.

Behind Mercury, under the oil tanker, a dim, hazy silhouette suddenly stirred. In the pitch-black, rainy night, the shadow seemed to ripple like a brief hallucination before vanishing again.

’Wait, is that...’

Mai Mingle narrowed her eyes.

She hadn’t been mistaken, even if she could barely make it out. A figure was slowly crawling out of the driver’s seat of the tanker behind Mercury. It moved with great difficulty, crawling a short distance before stopping, then continuing again after a moment.

The man seemed to be injured, but the sound of his ragged breaths and the extent of his wounds were drowned out by the dark, torrential rain. If Mai Mingle hadn’t happened to catch his movement, she might have mistaken him for just another overlapping layer of darkness. ’He must be the driver, right?’

’That’s great, the driver isn’t dead! I need to call an ambulance for him right away—’

Vaguely, the driver lifted his head toward them. Even though she couldn’t make out his features at all, Mai Mingle could still feel his gaze.

’...That’s strange.’

’Why isn’t he calling for help? Could he have realized that we were the ones who shot at the truck?’

’Then why is he crawling in this direction?’

In the next instant, a thought flashed through Mai Mingle’s mind, brighter than the lightning that suddenly tore through the curtain of rain.

There was no time to say anything. She suddenly lunged at Mercury, tackling her to the ground just as Mercury was hastily raising her machine gun. The two of them tumbled onto the road, which looked like a long, dark river. The torrential rain, the splashing water, the blast of a gunshot by her ear, and the muzzle flash that lit up from behind Mercury—it all seemed to make the world tremble and shatter into fragments.

"...Watch out!"

Mai Mingle only managed to cry out after they had already hit the ground. She could barely hear her own voice over the ringing in her ears and the furious pounding of her heart.

When she had tackled Mercury, Mercury had fired at the same time. Luckily, it wasn’t a pistol; the larger weapon wasn’t as nimble to turn, and the bullets had grazed past Mai Mingle.

As the two of them tumbled into the puddle-strewn street, the tanker driver also opened fire from behind. Amid the storm, chaos, and darkness, Mai Mingle couldn’t see what had happened and could only shout urgently, "The driver! He’s shooting! Are you hurt?"

Mercury was on the ground, still pinned beneath Mai Mingle.

In the hazy, rainy night, her brow was tightly furrowed as she said with something like a groan, "My shoulder..."

Mai Mingle finally managed to hear her and quickly released her hand from Mercury’s shoulder, belatedly realizing it was covered in a warm, slick fluid. As the blood was swiftly washed away by the heavy rain, Mai Mingle looked up.

The driver was on his feet.

Now that he was exposed, he was no longer crawling. He staggered toward the two of them, raising his gun and aiming it at Mai Mingle.

"Wh-which Family Faction are you from?" he shouted, panting. "Don’t move! Anyone moves and I’ll shoot! Tell me, which Family Faction are you from?"

Mai Mingle stared at him blankly, then glanced at the oil tanker in the distance.

"...You’re a Hunter?" She could hardly process it. "That truck..."

"You dare to make a move on a vehicle of the Knight Family," the driver roared, not hearing a word she said. "Speak up! Which Family Faction? How did you know we were transporting Original Liquid?"