Illusion Report

For the average student, school was a place to be avoided at all costs. But for Fu Tailan, it was the closest thing he had to a vacation.

He was still lounging in his seat, the students from the previous class long gone.

He didn’t know where the classroom for the next period was, because he had no idea what class was next.

This winter had been particularly long. It was nearly March, yet outside the window, the pale and blackened trees still stretched branches laden with a thin layer of snow toward the gloomy gray sky.

He could sit there quietly all morning, just watching the desolate colors of the world. Even if the next class started, no one would come to hurry him along.

The entire school knew he was just a bystander on the shore, standing outside the rules, the coursework, and the mundane. The ringing of a bell might shatter the reflection he cast upon this pool of water.

He was in the eleventh grade, but he didn’t have to worry about his GPA, nor had he looked at a single college brochure.

Attending class was optional. His father had already spoken to the school; he could stand up and leave whenever he pleased, and no one would ask a single question.

Fu Tailan had never asked how, exactly, his father had made these arrangements, nor was he interested in finding out.

Even earning enough credits to graduate was just something he’d decided to do on a whim. If Fu Tailan decided never to come to school again, his father wouldn’t object in the slightest—in fact, he’d probably be happier.

What was it his father always said?

Ah, right.

"The world plays favorites. Some people are born with a talent that ordinary people couldn’t achieve in a lifetime of effort," his father had advised him on more than one occasion. "Tailan, you are just such a lucky one—no, you are the best of the best. You should be using your time and energy on things with the highest returns. Only then would you not be wasting your gifts."

Fu Tailan couldn’t be bothered to finish his classes for the day, but as if in protest, he stayed at school for the entire day anyway.

He followed the flow of students down the main entrance steps after school and, unsurprisingly, saw the familiar SUV. He couldn’t help but sigh internally.

"Tailan, did your dad come to pick you up again? Why is he so worried about you?" a girl said, smiling and waving at him. "Bye! You have to come to school tomorrow!"

Fu Tailan could name fewer than three people in the entire school. That didn’t stop people from noticing him and striking up a conversation. He just had to be polite, nod, and say "hello" or "bye."

It wasn’t that he was arrogant.

After too many trips to the Nests, the human world seemed increasingly thin and sparse upon his return, its colors muted to a gloomy gray.

Especially right after coming back, people unconnected to the Nests barely had facial features to him; he couldn’t even remember them. No matter what happened, it all felt distant. It was as if this place shouldn’t be called "reality," because everything felt illusory and ephemeral, not solid at all.

Sometimes he felt that the center of gravity of his life was the Nests, and the Nests were a black hole.

Normally, his senses would gradually return after spending some time back in the human world.

But even when his senses returned, the psychological habits he’d formed were impossible to shake. Even when he could see colors and recognize faces again, it had nothing to do with him.

Fu Tailan walked around to the right side of the car, opened the back door, and tossed his empty backpack inside.

"How was your day?" His father turned around, smiling at him. "Did you have a good time at school?"

He had a square, solemn face that probably wasn’t bad-looking in his youth. But now that he was approaching middle age, his jawline had softened and sagged, giving him an air of puffy weakness. His appearance had finally come to match his personality.

’Thank god I don’t look like him.’

"Drive," Fu Tailan said as he got in the car, not bothering to answer. He jutted his chin toward the front. "Why did you come to pick me up again?"

He had already guessed the answer before his father replied.

"I got two new offers today."

Fu Han explained earnestly as he drove, "You haven’t entered a Nest in almost half a year. I didn’t understand why at first, but Dad gets it now. The biggest Family Factions in Blackmoor City aren’t just short on talent—they’re even more afraid a talent like you will end up with their competitors. Everyone’s fighting over you! They wouldn’t know what to do without you."

"The prices they’re offering now seem very reasonable. What do you think? Want to pick one you like and accept it? If you keep refusing, they might get discouraged, and we’d be missing out on a huge opportunity..."

Fu Tailan took out a cigarette. A lighter clicked open with a SNAP. He lit it and took a deep drag.

His father thoughtfully cracked open a window, and the frigid March air, still carrying the chill of snow, rushed in. He liked the cold air; the colder, the better.

Fu Tailan waited until the gentle, warm buzz smoothed out the wrinkles in his mind and loosened his thoughts. Only then did he ask in a daze, "...Who is it this time? What’s the contract?"

"One of them is a per-mission contract. Dad knows you like those, they’re more flexible."

"Don’t just tell me half of it," Fu Tailan’s voice became muffled and soft, making the words seem less aggressive. "Keep it short. And clear."

"Ahem, you kids are so impatient. I looked at that contract carefully. The pay-per-mission isn’t low, but that’s all there is. No cut of the Illusions you retrieve, no entry insurance or death benefits—of course, Dad knows nothing will happen to you, so that doesn’t matter—and as for benefits, subsidies, or shares, forget about it. It’s no different from hiring a regular freelance Hunter."

Fu Han tapped the steering wheel, seemingly quite displeased. "Don’t they know who they’re negotiating with? So rude."

Fu Tailan gave a silent laugh. "How much for one trip into a Nest?"

Fu Han hesitated before admitting, "The price isn’t too bad... Five hundred thousand per trip."

"How many trips?"

"Four."

"Is there a time limit?"

"...No."

That was the crux of the matter.

A Family Faction that signed Fu Tailan on a per-mission basis would never send him on a task that any ordinary Hunter could handle.

They would only send Fu Tailan into a Nest when they had definite intel on a rare Illusion but weren’t confident they could retrieve it themselves. Naturally, such opportunities—to pull chestnuts from the fire—were rare.

His father knew very well that if Fu Tailan accepted this four-mission contract, he wouldn’t enter a Nest one more time than necessary before the contract was fulfilled.

In other words, if the Family Faction took five years to use up those four missions, then for the next five years, Fu Tailan wouldn’t bring in a single cent beyond the two million.

"Illusions may appear endlessly, but truly rare and powerful ones are few and far between."

His father, who had never once set foot in a Nest his entire life, was explaining the current situation to him.

"While you’re not going, those Illusions could be discovered and taken by other Hunters... Isn’t signing a per-mission contract a waste of your talent? It’s one thing for people less talented than you to take the Illusions and make the money, but it also builds their reputation, making it seem like they can compete with you!"

Fu Tailan extended the half-smoked cigarette forward. His father, still talking, reached back and offered up an ashtray.

He didn’t take it, merely grinding out the ember in the ashtray, pressing down hard enough to make Fu Han’s hand dip with the weight.

"What about the other contract?"

"It’s from the Morgan Family." In the rearview mirror, his father’s face brightened. "The terms they’re offering are truly excellent. Looking at all of Blackmoor City, I can say that no Hunter has ever gotten a contract like this before. As your agent, Dad is very proud to have negotiated these terms for you..."

In truth, this wasn’t the first time the father and son had had this conversation.

Fu Tailan already knew where these conversations would ultimately lead and was tired of the back-and-forth. But he refused to let Fu Han get what he wanted so easily. Even when he didn’t mind entering a Nest, he would still say, "I’m not signing."

"You kid, you haven’t even heard their terms—"

"A Family Faction is too restrictive."

But this time, his father didn’t get anxious. Instead, he gave a clever smile.

"You’re wrong. This contract is different. The position they’re signing you for is Hunter Chief. Aside from reporting to the board of directors, you’ll command all the Household Hunters. You have the final say on how every mission is run... In front of the Hunter Chief, the so-called CEO in charge of operations doesn’t even have a voice. If that’s not freedom, what is?"

After a pause, he added, "You’re still young, you don’t get it. Only power can bring you freedom."

He could, on occasion, say something that would give Fu Tailan pause.

"Besides, you haven’t heard the annual salary they’re offering."

The figure his father quoted next stunned even Fu Tailan—the number was so outrageous that for a moment, he thought he’d misheard.

"No, that’s the number,"

Fu Han said, his voice so light he sounded as if he were about to float out of the driver’s seat. "And that’s just the annual salary, the most basic part. There are also various incentive mechanisms, profit-sharing, stock options, and other conditions... After this ten-year contract is over, the two of us can both retire!"

Fu Tailan felt like he’d been doused with a bucket of cold water. "How many years?"

"I know, ten years sounds long. But if you don’t sign this contract and just take odd jobs, you might still have to keep running into Nests ten years from now."

At this, his father suddenly let out a long sigh.

"Do you think I can rest easy watching my child go into such a dangerous place time and time again? When you’re in a Nest, I don’t get a single good night’s sleep. It’s agony. I wish I could go in your place. After these ten years, we’ll never have to do this again. Your mother is gone, it’s just the two of us left in this world, father and son... And Dad doesn’t want to be a white-haired man burying his black-haired son."

Fu Tailan was silent in the back seat for a while.

"...Their offer is too good. It doesn’t make sense."

After a long moment, he said in a low voice, "I don’t have three heads and six arms, and I’m not Superman. If this is just about entering Nests and finding Illusions, no Hunter in the world is worth that price. The Morgan Family must have another motive.

"What else did they say, besides what’s in the contract?"

Fu Han seemed about to argue, but he froze when he heard the last part.

"They did say one thing... that if you were interested in accepting the contract, they wanted to speak with you privately. And that the topic of conversation was to be kept strictly confidential... I didn’t think much of it at the time. Why don’t you go talk to them?"

Even for his own father, there were some Hunter-related matters that a Family Faction would only disclose to Fu Tailan himself.

Fu Tailan thought for a moment.

"Schedule a meeting with Carter Morgan," he instructed his father. "Whatever they can’t put in the contract, he can tell me to my face."