Illusion Report

Had the other boat not aimed its searchlight at them, it would have been impossible to see the fishing line, let alone how many people were on board. The canvas cover, beer, and fishing rods were just a precaution.

Few boats were out night fishing at two or three in the morning, but Central Bay was never short of private yachts. The coast guard patrol seemed to have another target; it passed straight by, showing no interest in Chaisi’s small vessel and not even slowing its speed.

The large, high-speed patrol boat kicked up wave after wave, tossing the small boat up and down uncontrollably. As the waves rocked the boat, Chaisi suddenly swore under his breath, leaped to his feet, and lunged for the canvas cover.

He lost his footing and was thrown against the guardrail by the rocking, but he seemed not to feel it. With a sweep of his arm, a large hand with long fingers seized the canvas cover.

"What’s wrong?"

Amidst Dr. Nate’s cry of alarm and the crash of waves against the hull, he pinned the shifting canvas cover with one palm and clamped his hand shut. Chaisi was confident in his grip; if he grabbed hold of someone, they wouldn’t be able to break free unless they were willing to tear their own limb off like a lizard’s tail.

And yet, Ivan had gotten away.

The incident had happened in a flash. Only later, in retrospect, did Chaisi piece together how Ivan had escaped.

As the boat rocked, Ivan had crawled from under the cover toward the railing, hoping to jump overboard while Chaisi was distracted. Chaisi had noticed just in time, lunging forward to pin him down and yank him back. But between the rocking of the boat and the layer of canvas, Chaisi hadn’t realized he had grabbed the man’s left arm—the very one he himself had broken, tearing open a bloody wound.

When Chaisi yanked him by the shoulder, the freshly cauterized wound was torn wide open. A long, agonized scream rang out from the railing, piercing the dark of the night.

And with that cry, fresh blood gushed from his body.

The pain must have been unbearable, but the copious amount of blood acted as a lubricant. As the boat lurched, Ivan wrenched his broken arm free and tumbled over the side. It all happened in a matter of seconds. By the time Chaisi rushed to the railing and scanned the water, the bodyguard had already sunk from view.

The sea was vast and the night was dark. Even with a flashlight, he could only see the waves for a few meters.

Even with an injured arm, it wouldn’t be difficult for the bodyguard to hold his breath and swim underwater for a short while, long enough to get beyond Chaisi’s line of sight.

’Does he really think he can swim back to Blackmoor City, injured and bleeding out?’

Chaisi wanted to laugh, but the muscles in his face felt heavy, immobile. "He’s probably already dead in Central Bay, and who knows where the current will take him. I’ll keep an eye out for any reports of a body being found over the next few days."

"So you need to wait for news of a dead man before you know how to proceed?" Kai Luonan asked with a small smile.

"No... of course not, Uncle Kai."

Chaisi’s voice dropped. "I’m going to go after his sister, and the pizza delivery guy."

But Kai Luonan seemed to have no interest in his next move. He took a sip of his black coffee. "A place left out in the open for you to find is never the place where something is truly hidden."

Chaisi struggled to swallow those words.

He was speechless.

Before Ivan had jumped, Chaisi had already taken his keys, phone, ID, and even his important passwords. The man had fled with nothing but the body on his back. In theory, even with the bodyguard gone, as long as the item was hidden somewhere he’d frequented, Chaisi should have been able to find a clue sooner or later.

But Chaisi had searched every conceivable hiding place and still came up with nothing.

’What could he have possibly missed?’

Chaisi’s hands had been unconsciously twisting and grinding. He only just now realized that the banknote he’d been using to clean his fingernails had been reduced to dust, which now sprinkled into the carpet. A flash of embarrassment went through him.

"Uncle Kai, I’ll get the vacuum. Is the handheld one still in the usual spot?"

He had just started to rise when Kai Luonan said, "No need to rush. Sit."

Though he didn’t understand, Chaisi sat back down.

"Harm is a two-way street," Kai Luonan said slowly. "The force of a punch that lands on another will inevitably reverberate back into your own bones, your own soul. That is why torturers and thugs either start out numb and dull, or they gradually become that way through violence."

A warm, tingling numbness spread from his palms to his chest.

"I’ll be careful, Uncle Kai," Chaisi said, full of gratitude. "It’s only bloodshed. I can handle it."

"That’s not what I meant."

Chaisi’s heart sank. He braced for Kai Luonan’s next words like he was waiting for a fist to bury itself in his stomach.

"Numb and brutal thugs are the most worthless commodity in this business," Kai Luonan said. "You grew up at my side. I thought you would have been smarter in your methods."

It was a long moment before Chaisi could breathe again.

"For a Hunter Family Faction to grow strong, the Nest is merely the foundation. What’s truly crucial is how we operate in the Human World, how we build influence. A truly powerful Hunter Family Faction is one that controls the very ’reality’ we all must live in."

Kai Luonan let out a low chuckle.

"...But you can’t control ’reality’ with violence and bloodshed alone. Don’t tell me that’s the only card you have left to play."

Chaisi didn’t know his own head could feel so heavy. For a moment, all he wanted was to bury his face in his hands—and it wasn’t because he’d been up all night.

He knew Kai Luonan wasn’t truly angry, but he would have preferred it if he were. He would have preferred rage, questions, and a tirade about his failure.

Chaisi now stood a full head taller than Kai Luonan. He was well-trained and formidable; even other Hunters feared him. But whenever Kai Luonan was disappointed in him, Chaisi still felt that sinking, drowning sensation of being plunged into ice water—because he couldn’t help but be disappointed in himself, too.

He stared at his hands. Several long, pale scars were etched into the backs of them, stretching up until they disappeared beneath his watch and cuff.

In his youth, Chaisi had performed many experiments to find his Path, leaving his body covered in scars and lasting injuries.

Only one percent of humanity possesses a "Path" that allows them to enter a Nest. But no one knows what their Path is; they can only find it through trial and error. He had tried every known method for finding a Path, yet he remained stuck in the Human World, unable to see the Nests.

He was thirty now, but he could still never forget the moment Uncle Kai had finally accepted the fact that he had no Path—the way his uncle had lowered his eyes, utterly silent.

It was like watching a piece of art get smashed on the floor, only to reveal the cheap styrofoam within.

The scars on the back of his hands weren’t from the experiments. Chaisi had carved them himself with a Hunting Knife after the experiments were over. He didn’t know why. Perhaps he thought he could carve a Path into existence.

"I understand." Chaisi’s voice came out raspy; he cleared his throat. "Uncle Kai, I promised you that I would deliver the Human World to you."

’He couldn’t enter the Nests, but he could become a Hunter in the Human World. He could seize all the power and wealth the world had to offer and lay it all at the feet of the Kai Family.’

’Because the one thing Uncle Kai truly wanted was the one thing he could never give him.’