Illusion Report

She barely understood it, yet she had to listen.

"A Toyota, license plate MKA-388, has been parked in front of the Brooklyn Public Library for over seven days. The owner is requested to move the vehicle as soon as possible. Otherwise, it will be added to the library’s revenge list."

’The license plate sounds like a real one from Blackmoor City... Could a Hunter have driven their car in here?’

’Parked for this long without being moved... The owner’s probably dead.’

The thought came and went, leaving no mark on Jin Xueli’s mind.

Being an Illusion Hunter meant racing against the dark. Countless Hunters had already been pulled under by its black waves, sinking forever into the depths of the Nest.

’Sooner or later, I’ll be the one to sink. I wonder what my own grave will look like when it appears before me.’

"...Next up, we have traffic conditions and map information."

Jin Xueli snapped to attention. The alcohol’s effect vanished, clearing her head. She quickly pulled out a pen and a brand-new tourist map of Blackmoor City. Clenching her phone between her teeth, she used its faint screen glow to spread the map across the concrete floor.

"First," the host said, slowing his pace as if he knew how critical the information was, "Fifth Street through the One Hundred Ninetieth Street remain unchanged. Access is normal today."

She let out a sigh of relief.

Whether it was a good thing or a bad thing, the Nest was like a living creature, forever in a state of slow mutation.

Before she got the radio, Jin Xueli had to mentally prepare herself every time she entered the Nest. Even if it was a familiar location she had explored a hundred times over, the next time you entered, you could still push open a door and step into a strange, new room.

The geography of the Nest resembled that of Blackmoor City, but it was a discordant, subtly deformed resemblance. It was as if the Nest were a skewed, misshapen mirror image, twisted by light and shadow, birthing things not of this world from the darkness of its jagged fissures.

’Is this a fissure in the cosmos? The hell of legend? Or just the delusion of a madman?’

Jin Xueli had been here countless times and still didn’t have an answer.

After listening to the broadcast for so long, she had figured out a few things.

"Currently undergoing construction/renovation/repairs"—phrases like this meant a location was in flux.

"Attracting lots of visitors," or "a great spot for a weekend outing"—absolutely off-limits. Even the surrounding areas had to be given a wide berth.

"Remains unchanged, normal access"—this meant exactly what it said. As long as you had been familiar with the terrain and had already scoped out the risks, you could still trust your previous experience.

The thing Jin Xueli was planning to use to deal with her stalker was hidden on 99th Street, which thankfully was in a zone with no abnormal changes. If all went well, it would only take two days to get from her entry point to 99th Street, grab what she needed, and return to Blackmoor City.

’Two days...’ She couldn’t help a self-mocking laugh.

By distance, it was fifteen kilometers at most. But in the Nest, covering fifteen kilometers in two days counted as a remarkably smooth journey.

By the time the traffic report was over, Jin Xueli’s map was covered in Coils, large and small, along with annotations like "Danger!", "Go straight," and "Bus available, but don’t talk to the driver."

Based on the experience she’d paid for by risking her life time and again, the broadcast was trustworthy.

’If I ever decided to retire, this radio could probably fetch me at least a million bucks, huh?’

But Jin Xueli knew she would never retire. Even with a million dollars waiting, she couldn’t give up being a Hunter. There were too many things in this world worth experiencing, her desires were too voracious, and she needed far more than a million.

"I’m giving him way too much credit," Jin Xueli grew more irritated. ’Some gutter rat... and I have to go back and get an Illusion just to deal with you?’

She packed up her map and pen and was about to grab the radio from the floor. It was playing "No. 1 on the Nest’s Hottest New Singles Chart." Today’s track wasn’t half-bad; it sounded like the howling of a gale through a forest, faintly interspersed with a person’s long, piercing scream. Suddenly, the "music" hitched and fell silent.

’After all, when the song is a piercing scream, who knows which part is the finale?’

"Such a soothing, melodious song," the host said in a low voice. "I just received a call from a listener, and I must now add a Special Situation Broadcast."

Jin Xueli’s breath hitched.

"Special Situation Broadcast." Since getting her hands on the radio, she had only heard those words twice.

The first time, thanks to a Special Situation Broadcast, she had found herself a fixed, hidden, and safe private base of operations: the very room she was in now.

Before that, she hadn’t even known humans could establish a fixed anchor point in the Nest.

In the past, every time Jin Xueli opened a Path into the Nest, she, like everyone else, would appear in one of the public entry points—City Hall, the garden Between the Backlight, Saint Louis Hospital, etc. Surrounded by Hunters, inhabitants, and countless other unknowns, she didn’t even dare stay in one spot long enough to finish a cup of coffee.

The second time, she had used an Illusion obtained from a Special Situation Broadcast to trade for a residence in Blackmoor City—a place an ordinary person could never get near in their entire lifetime. In addition to the payment, the buyer had signed an indefinite contract granting Jin Xueli lifetime residency rights to the apartment for as long as she lived.

And now, the third time had finally come.

For a moment, the only thing in Jin Xueli’s vision was the radio on the floor. She forgot to breathe, her focus condensing into a hook, snagging every word that emerged.

"...After entering through Entrance D of the Museum of Modern Art, take the elevator on the left down to the first basement level."

The host’s voice flowed slowly from the radio, seeming to project an architectural diagram into her mind. "Remember, you must take the first elevator on the left. If the doors of another elevator open, do not enter. Do not look. No matter what happens, act as if you know nothing."

Although the broadcast’s listeners seemed to be the inhabitants of the Nest, it was always these little details that made Jin Xueli feel the host was giving instructions specifically to her—or rather, to the Hunters listening to the radio.

"The item you need to be concerned with in the basement exhibition hall is ’Candle Tears.’ As far as I know, it only recently became an ’Illusion’... Perhaps some would say it is one of the most powerful Illusions to exist since the Nest’s creation."

The host paused, as if he could sense the frantic pounding of Jin Xueli’s heart.

"For those who wish to see for themselves, take a word of advice from me. A person’s fate... it’s as fragile as a scrap of cotton. The world is full of torrents, too many and too unpredictable, crashing about with no regard for mercy. People are just caught between them—torn, swallowed, and thrown by a power far greater than themselves toward a future they cannot see."

"And an Illusion... is a flash flood and a tsunami; a tempest and a tidal wave. It is the genie that grants your heart’s desire, and the god that is deaf to your pleas..."

He trailed off, as if the next words were too difficult, and stopped involuntarily.

For a moment, the dim room was silent. The host didn’t breathe; Jin Xueli had realized that long ago.

There were only four or five sets of breaths in the room, including her own, rising and falling together in the dark.

"My dear listeners, that concludes today’s broadcast. Please stay safe out there. We’ll meet again next time."

Jin Xueli stood stunned for a few seconds, then snatched up the radio and packed it away. She fumbled for the doorknob, opened the door a crack, and slipped out.

The Museum of Modern Art was on the way to her destination.

’First, go to the museum and check out the Illusion from the broadcast. Then, head to 99th Street to get the thing for Anthony...’

’Losing a day or two isn’t a big deal.’