Illusion Report

’They found out where I am already?’

’Is caller ID that advanced now? It can show your address?’

Mai Mingle’s heart pounded like a drum, and she panicked. If the Morgan Family found her, the only thing separating the Snake Belt Illusion from their Hunters would be the thin layer of clothing on her back.

’Once they realize I was the last person to have contact with Jonah...’

’No, I have to run.’

Unless her luck was just that bad and the Morgan Family lived upstairs from this Chinese restaurant, it would definitely take them some time to get here. Yes, she had to take advantage of the time before they arrived. The best plan was to run.

Mai Mingle quickly slammed the phone down, slapped a bill on the counter, and turned to leave—but surprisingly, she didn’t get far.

The back of her collar had been grabbed.

"And where do you think you’re going?"

Before she could even react, the restaurant owner behind her started yelling, "Your fried noodles are already in the wok! You haven’t paid, and now you’re trying to walk out on me? I’ve been watching you. Good thing I kept an eye out!"

’I forgot about that.’ Her mind, preoccupied with thoughts of the Illusion and Hunters, had completely forgotten about the fried noodles.

Mai Mingle felt a mix of anxiety, anger, and amusement. The tight collar made her cough twice. "Let go," she said quickly. "I’ll give you the money, alright?"

The owner was leaning halfway over the counter, like a bald owl eying a mouse, not trusting Mai Mingle in the slightest.

"Sixteen-fifty," he said, his face stern. "Card or cash?"

"That expensive? Isn’t it just fried noodles?" She was taken aback and glanced at the menu, filled with regret. ’Prices are this high now?’

"Do you have the money or not?"

Mai Mingle’s scalp tingled with anxiety. In this precious window of time before the Morgan Family arrived, she was here scraping together ones and fives for fried noodles.

After she finally managed to pull the money together, the owner took it and grumbled, "Took you this long to come up with sixteen-fifty? Ah, whatever. You want that to go or for here?"

’They already said they know my address; they could be here any second. Why would I eat here—’

Mai Mingle opened her mouth, but then paused.

She stared at the owner’s bald head, thought for a moment, and changed her answer. "...I’ll take it to go."

The owner didn’t want someone who looked like a vagrant eating in his restaurant anyway. This was probably the first thing she’d said that he agreed with, so he turned and went to the kitchen.

Mai Mingle stood by the register, lost in thought. In the empty, struggling little restaurant, there was only her, the sound of the news from a TV in the corner, and the dim, greasy smell of old food.

’...Why would the person from the Morgan Family say, "I know your address," right before hanging up?’

’Thinking about it now, a life is on the line. The Morgan Family wouldn’t just take the word of some unknown person on the phone and rush off to a Nest to save someone. They would definitely verify their source of information first...’

’If they suspected I had something to do with Jonah’s predicament and wanted to capture me, they certainly wouldn’t give me a heads-up. That would just be telling me to run.’

’If I were in the Morgan Family’s shoes, would my first instinct be to suspect the person on the other end of the line was connected to Jonah’s trouble?’

’Maybe, maybe not.’

’The phrase "I know your address" is, in itself, neutral.’

’They didn’t say what they were going to do to me, just implied they were coming to find me.’

If Mai Mingle, having a guilty conscience, ran the moment she heard that sentence, it would undoubtedly send a clear signal to the Morgan Family: *I’m trouble. Come and get me.*

In her current state, she would never be able to outrun a manhunt by the well-equipped Household Hunters.

’But what if I really were just a vagrant paid to pass on a message? After hearing that, would I even take it to heart?’

They were testing her, and Mai Mingle had no choice but to play along—even if it meant revealing herself to the Morgan Family.

It was only in her old age that she discovered a strange truth about life: things obtained without any risk were often not worth having. It seemed that keeping the Snake Belt Illusion would also require taking a risk.

’Thank goodness for the restaurant owner. If he hadn’t delayed me, I wouldn’t have had the chance to think this through. I would’ve just run.’

’Besides, if he hadn’t stopped me, who knows how long I would’ve gone hungry, right?’

As Mai Mingle sat on the ground in the corner outside the Chinese restaurant, shoving mouthfuls of fried noodles into her mouth, she thought with near satisfaction.

Her appetite had been bad for years. She had trouble chewing and swallowing, and food was tasteless. But now, in this moment before the storm, the steaming, fragrant, oily fried noodles in her hand seemed to truly ground her in this second spring of her life.

’Whatever happens next, I have food to eat right now. There’s no greater happiness than that.’

That was just the kind of person she was. No matter what happened, she could always find a silver lining.

A sleek, beautiful gray car pulled up in front of the Chinese restaurant just as Mai Mingle was picking the bean sprouts out of her noodles.

She hated bean sprouts. A moment ago, she had been so hungry she’d shoveled them in without a second thought. Now that her stomach had some food in it, the bean sprouts seemed particularly detestable, as if they had taken advantage of her hunger.

Mai Mingle glanced up at the car, steadied her heartbeat, and tried to keep her expression neutral as she looked back down and continued her task.

A man and a woman got out of the car. As they approached the entrance, the restaurant owner poked his head out. He pointed at Mai Mingle by the wall, said, "That’s her," and ducked back behind the door.

Mai Mingle wasn’t surprised at all.

While she was devouring her noodles, she had heard the phone ring inside the restaurant.

"Are you the one who called?" the man asked. His gaze, as expected, fell on her deliberately outstretched dirty feet, and his eyebrows twitched.

"Yeah," Mai Mingle said, wiping her mouth with her hand, which only made it dirtier. "Which one of you is Morgan?"

No one answered her question. The woman instead pulled out her phone, called someone, and instructed, "We’ve found her. Stand by for now."

The moment she spoke, Mai Mingle recognized her voice. She was the one who had answered the phone.

’So... besides the two of them, there are others nearby, right? The surrounding streets are probably filled with the Morgan Family’s eyes. If I had run, I definitely wouldn’t have gotten far.’

The woman hung up and asked Mai Mingle, "What kind of person asked you to deliver the message?"

’My guess was right. It seems they aren’t suspicious of me.’

"Well,"

Mai Mingle lowered her head and scratched it vigorously, as if she had fleas—the man took half a step back. "Spoke all funny-like, weird... couldn’t really tell their age. Twenties, thirties, maybe forties, but not fifty. They were wearing a hat and glasses, with a scarf wrapped up tight around the lower half of their face. Couldn’t see what they looked like."

The two exchanged a look.

"How tall?"

"I was sitting on the ground. Couldn’t tell."

"...What ethnicity?"

"Either a light-skinned minority or a white person with a tan."

"What about their accent?"

"Oh, it was perfect," Mai Mingle praised. "Radio announcer quality."

The woman’s jaw tightened.

"What else did she say?"

"Something real strange. See if you can make sense of it." Mai Mingle cleared her throat, placed the takeout container on the sidewalk, and said, "’Jonah looks like a normal person on the outside, but residents have already moved into his body.’"

The expressions of the two changed slightly.

’Good, looks like they understand... This way, when they enter the Nest to rescue him, they’ll know what to watch out for.’

Mai Mingle breathed a small sigh of relief internally.

’From the looks of it, the Morgan Family seems to be a pretty impressive Family Faction.’

’Although I don’t know what a Family Faction is exactly... then again, there are plenty of new words I don’t understand, so what’s one more? Since they’re so impressive, they should be able to save him, right?’

"What are you smiling about?" the man asked abruptly.

Mai Mingle froze, realizing she might have let a small smile slip.

’It feels so good to help someone. How could I not smile?’

’You’d think the person being helped is the one who should be happy, but when you’re the one helping, you get this... swelling, tingling sense of pleasure. Someone explained it once, something about human evolution... Too bad I can’t tell the truth.’

"She gave me money, and that’s how I got to eat," Mai Mingle replied, holding up her fried noodles. "Good things like this don’t happen often."

"You watch her," the woman said to her companion. "I’m going to call Fu Tailan."

She stepped aside, waiting for the person on the other end to pick up. After a few seconds, she said in a low voice, "Tailan? We found the caller. It’s a vagrant who was paid to do it."

Mai Mingle listened as her own pack of lies was repeated with such gravity from the woman’s mouth.

But every word about Jonah’s situation was true. As the woman’s expression grew more and more serious, Mai Mingle’s heart rose higher and higher into her throat.

When she hung up and returned, even her companion looked a little tense, watching her without a word.

"This is serious. He might lead a team into the Nest himself," the woman said to her companion, jutting her chin toward Mai Mingle. "But before he goes, Fu Tailan wants to see her first."

She then crouched down, as if talking to a child, and smiled amicably at Mai Mingle. "Our supervisor has some questions for you. Come with us, and we’ll make it worth your while. You can ask for whatever you want."

This time, it was Mai Mingle’s turn to be dumbfounded.

For a vagrant, this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity with no reason to refuse. But how could she dare go back to the Morgan Family with them?

"Uh—I—" She couldn’t think of an excuse and ended up blurting out, "It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s just... I have fleas—"

"Not a problem," the woman said, her expression souring but her voice firm. "You can take a shower at our place—at our company."

The man took a step forward, a look of extreme reluctance on his face, but still stood right next to Mai Mingle.

He bent down and said, "Are you getting in the car yourself, or do I have to help you?"