Illusion Report

The shock that shot through Mai Mingle was immense, as if countless jolts of electricity had exploded through her body. She immediately threw all her weight into pushing the door forward—she was quick, and before Jonah could slip his body through, the sliding door clamped down hard on his neck.

If she could just suffocate him like this, things might have been simple.

Unfortunately, the door was only pressing on the artery on one side of his neck. Though it squeezed him until his face was flushed crimson and his breathing grew ragged, his windpipe wasn’t fatally compressed. As long as he could still breathe, he had strength. One of his hands shot out to grab the edge of the door, and he started shoving it back toward Mai Mingle.

The bastard could even talk.

"Did you know?"

His breathing was labored, but his words were still clear and complete. "...Anyone who stays in the Nest for more than seven days, or anyone who dies here—it’s not just their bodies. Their minds, memories, emotions, experiences, even a single thought, will be broken down piece by piece, transformed into other forms to become part of the Nest. You’ve lived a long life. You must have experienced a lot, right? And had plenty of wicked thoughts, too? When you die in here, I wonder what sort of spectacle that will create... It’s rare, you know, for someone in their seventies or eighties to die in the Nest."

It was as if she understood, and yet she didn’t.

’After I die, my emotions, memories, and experiences will become a part of the Nest? What does "a part" even mean? Could my own memories turn into those residents?’

As if hearing her thoughts, Jonah gave a hoarse laugh. "All the things that will come marching out of an eighty-six-year life... I can’t wait to see."

’Jonah’s just trying to unnerve me again, isn’t he?’

Mai Mingle desperately held the door, gritting her teeth. ’If so, he’s badly miscalculated.’

"Is it because Jonah always has to train new recruits that you just can’t help trying to give me a crash course?"

Even with her muscles screaming and her whole body trembling, she managed to speak, her voice shaking. "You live inside people like an intestinal parasite. You have no life experience. Who gets through their time on earth without suffering, without hardship? But you know what? Life also has a way of showing you a little light, a little tenderness, right when you least expect it."

"Even if you kill me here today and use me as raw material to spit out new residents, I won’t feel any pain or anger. I didn’t have many days left anyway, just lying in bed day after day like a dried-out husk. The best parts of my life were long past. But before it all ends, I get to be young again, to truly live again, and to die as the version of myself I remember from my youth. Who else gets to be that lucky? This is the universe’s own small kindness to me. I’m actually quite happy about it."

"Shut up!" Jonah, unable to get a word in edgewise, yelled hoarsely. "Shut up!"

"When you get to my age, you tend to ramble. Once you get us started, it’s hard to get us to stop."

Jonah seemed furious. He led by example and shut his own mouth, his lips pressed into a thin line. A woman and a man’s head, their harsh, heavy breathing the only sound, silently continued their reverse tug-of-war.

True to her word, Mai Mingle couldn’t hold back and spoke again.

"You’ve burrowed into Jonah’s body, but is there really nothing left of his own consciousness? Hey, kid, you still in there? You need to do something about that brain parasite. We can’t keep this up forever."

The pressure had long since burst the capillaries in Jonah’s face, covering it in shocking patches of blood spots until he resembled a swollen, purple grape. He didn’t seem to care. He ignored Mai Mingle’s words and just kept forcing the door.

It’s tough to deal with a person who gets tunnel vision; it was now apparent that it’s just as tough when the thing with tunnel vision isn’t a person at all...

Mai Mingle knew her physical strength was no match for Jonah’s.

Even though she felt young and strong again, that was only in comparison to her eighty-six-year-old self. Jonah, on the other hand, was in his prime and used to life-or-death struggles. They weren’t on the same level to begin with. What’s more, as an old woman, her appetite had been poor. The day before falling into the Nest, she had only eaten a few crackers and a little egg, all of which she’d thrown up. Now, looking at the mangled remains of the "child" on the floor, she was horrified to feel a pang of hunger.

She had only lasted this long because of her positional advantage. If this stalemate dragged on, her luck was bound to run out.

Mai Mingle glanced at the "child’s" corpse on the floor again, then suddenly sucked in a sharp breath. "Huh?"

As surprise flickered across her face, the strength in her hands involuntarily slackened.

Jonah reacted instantly, and just as she’d hoped, he followed her gaze downward. Mai Mingle had been waiting for this. She seized the opportunity, throwing her full weight into the sliding door with a desperate slam. A dry, rasping shriek erupted from the gap between the door and the wall, like the sound of a pinched and cracking rubber hose.

"A child’s trick, and you actually fell for it," Mai Mingle said, though inwardly she was cursing her luck.

She had hoped that when he looked down, she’d be able to slam the door shut completely.

But now, the situation was exactly the same as before. There was no telling how long this new stalemate would last.

Air rasped in and out of Jonah’s throat a few times, intermittently, each breath seemingly more difficult than the last.

’Is his windpipe caught?’

Because he had turned his head, it was hard for Mai Mingle to be sure from her angle.

"I... I..." Jonah was facing the wall, his voice muffled and hoarse, sounding less like speech than a leaking balloon. "Am... a Hunter... from the Morgan Family Faction..."

’He’s thinking about introducing himself at a time like this?’

Mai Mingle’s suspicion had just flared when she sensed something was off, and she continued to listen.

"My name is Jonah Zhenke... This is my fifth day in the Nest..." he said with great difficulty. "Please... go to the Morgan Family... call for... help..."

A layer of goosebumps prickled across Mai Mingle’s skin.

She didn’t know if it was because some vital point was now being constricted, temporarily blocking the resident’s control, but the person speaking to her now wasn’t the Nest creature bent on killing her. It was Jonah, the Hunter from Blackmoor City, begging her to save him.

"What about your partners?" It was a struggle for Mai Mingle to speak now as well. "Can’t you call them for help? As you can see, I can barely save myself right now."

Waves of weakness were already washing over her limbs. She had only made it this far by telling herself, ’Just one more second,’ and when that second passed, ’Just one more second.’

"You have to... get out of the Nest... right away..." Jonah said, his speech still halting.

"I can’t get out," Mai Mingle interrupted. "Can you control your own body? Keep the resident from coming after me? It’s a long run from here to the exit of the Nest—"

"No, no... It lied to you."

Mai Mingle snapped her mouth shut with an audible click of her teeth.

"The way you came... through the Path... is the way you go back..." A KRAK, KRAK sound came from Jonah’s throat, and then he fell silent.

Just as Mai Mingle’s heart leaped into her throat, thinking the resident had seized control again, she heard him unexpectedly continue, "Fell in... from a television... television... to go back. You’ve used a Path once, so when you see it again... you’ll feel something..."

"But the moment I let go, the resident will regain control, won’t it?" Mai Mingle could no longer hide her agitation. "Never mind whether I can get away—even if I could, I don’t know if I’d be able to find the tele—"

The syllable "—vision" died on her lips.

Her gaze was fixed on the far side of the room.

After a few seconds, Mai Mingle asked in a low voice, "When I see the Path, I’ll know that it’s the Path. Is that what you’re trying to say?"

A hissing sound came from Jonah’s throat, as if he could no longer reply.

Mai Mingle couldn’t help but swallow, her heartbeat so loud it pounded in her ears.

In the dim light, she could just barely make out a small door at the other end of the room.

Although the medical imaging lab didn’t have any windows to the outside, it had been partitioned to create a smaller room within. That was the door leading to it, and next to the door was a glass window looking out at the X-ray machine.

When she was searching for a weapon, she had only looked in her immediate vicinity, so while she’d seen the door and window, she hadn’t given them a second thought. Now, however, she had a sudden realization—whenever she’d had an X-ray taken, the technician had always sat in a little room just like that.

’Why did they sit there?’

’To operate the machine. To look at the films.’

From the edge of the window, she could just make out the silhouette of half a computer monitor. There was no light, so everything was a blur; if she hadn’t been looking for it, she might not have even realized it was a screen.

The screen was for viewing medical images, which meant it was large. The same desperate urge she’d felt back in her bed—that desperate need to get to the television—suddenly flared up inside Mai Mingle like a wildfire, burning hotter and brighter.

’Could it be that my Path isn’t a television, but a "screen"?’

’No, that’s not right. When I passed the nurses’ station, I saw the computer screen on the counter. Why didn’t I feel anything then?’

That question wasn’t important right now, and this wasn’t the time to think about it.

"Hey, Jonah?" Mai Mingle called out. She wanted to confirm her theory with him, but only a gurgling sound came from his throat.

"How am I supposed to find the Morgan Family Faction? Do you... do you have their phone number?"

’You probably couldn’t find a Hunter Family Faction in the Yellow Pages, could you? Oh, right. There are no Yellow Pages anymore. Back in my day, people were afraid you *wouldn’t* be able to find them, so they put their numbers in the public phone book. Now it’s the opposite, like everyone’s terrified of a privacy leak.’

The world was different now.

How was she supposed to find the "Morgan Family Faction"? Could you look it up on a smartphone? ’I can’t just let a perfectly good kid get killed by some stupid parasite.’

But Mai Mingle called his name a few more times, and Jonah gave no response.

She glanced at the screen in the small room, the wildfire of hope burning in her heart.

If her guess was wrong—if she risked everything to rush to that room only to find she couldn’t get back to Blackmoor City—she would certainly die. But if she stayed here, death was just as certain.

’Since I’m damned if I do and damned if I don’t, I might as well do.’

Mai Mingle took a deep breath and lowered the foot she had braced against the door.

She released her grip. The pressure on the door vanished, and the resident instantly reawakened. In the same moment that Jonah shouldered the sliding door open, Mai Mingle was already breaking into a desperate sprint toward the small room.