Illusion Report

Ten minutes later, Mai Mingle found the fourth rule.

This rule wasn’t easy to find; but discovering it didn’t require any brilliant deduction, just a bit of careful observation.

The fourth rule was hidden deep on the last page of the menu, at the very bottom beneath a long list of drinks. Written in a fine, faint, nearly-the-same-color font the size of an ant was the phrase, "Please do not touch the faces of dining guests."

If Mai Mingle hadn’t practically pressed the tip of her nose to the menu, scrutinizing it inch by inch, she might have actually missed it.

The line below the rule provided a definition of a face: "A guest’s face includes the forehead with two eyebrows, one whole nose, the left and right eyes, the left and right cheeks, and the area from the philtrum to the chin."

The seven pieces of a face she was looking for were parts of the diners that couldn’t be touched... It fit together quite well.

This also seemed to explain why the diners looked normal. If they looked like the waitstaff, who knew if the fleshy tendrils growing out of their eye sockets counted as part of a "face"?

Mai Mingle summarized a total of four rules on the slip of paper in her hand:

One, no one can sit at the central round table (?);

Two, you must eat when a diner offers you food (otherwise, you will pay a price—price unknown. Considering that not even Xiaowei was willing to pay it, it’s best not to take the risk), but it seems you can’t eat the specific food you’re invited to eat (is that why Xiaowei chose the "broccoli" when invited to eat pain-meat?);

Three, humans cannot touch any products from the "Cowboy Sanches" company, or they will die on the spot;

Four, do not touch the faces of dining guests.

She had found the rules, but Mai Mingle still didn’t know what the hints and clues were, let alone where the seven pieces of a face might be hidden.

’Have I missed something?’

"What if I missed a clue because I didn’t have enough time just now?"

She hurried back to the restroom, pushed the door open, and poked just her head inside, calling out, "After all, I’m just one person. I have to question seventeen people—"

The back of the woman applying makeup was perfectly still, standing rigidly in the corner of the restroom. She still held a tube of bright red lipstick.

"No, you haven’t missed anything. All the clues have been given to you." Its voice was low. "What, you can’t find even a single piece?"

"...I’ll find them." Mai Mingle wasn’t sure if this counted as good news. She asked another question, "After an hour and a half passes, can the diners attack me directly?"

"Yes."

A shiver went through Mai Mingle.

"Didn’t I tell you? The more time that passes, the freer they are to act. Starting from the fourth thirty-minute interval, all the diners can move freely and attack you directly... I’d really love to see what that looks like," the woman applying makeup chuckled softly.

"So you’re saying it’s best if I find all the pieces of the face within the next hour?"

"If you want to live."

"What if I find a piece of the face after the fourth thirty-minute period starts, and they snatch it away? How am I supposed to resist and protect myself?"

Mai Mingle couldn’t bear to imagine the diners in the restaurant all turning to face her and rising from their seats. She didn’t even have a stick to defend herself, and in such a small restaurant, there was nowhere to hide.

’The woman and I are a community of shared interests, right? We’re on the same side.’ She had deliberately brought up the face, hoping the woman might offer her some means of self-defense.

Mai Mingle’s hopes were high, but the other’s reply was a disappointment.

"You don’t need to worry about that. Once a piece of the face is in your hands, the rules recognize that you’ve found it. Just bring it back to me, because I want to start eating as soon as possible," the woman said in a low voice. "As for how you should protect yourself... aren’t you a Hunter? Do you ask the residents to protect you every time you enter a Nest?"

She really wasn’t a Hunter—but Mai Mingle didn’t say it out loud.

"But aren’t you worried I’ll die out there before I find all the pieces?"

"If you die, the restaurant’s rules go offline, the task is canceled, and I can still get my face back." The woman applying makeup let out a soft laugh. "If you die, you’ll make for some excellent nourishment. It’s just that after the task begins, we all have to play by the rules. Before you find all the pieces, the other diners can make a move on you. But after you find them all, they, like me, can no longer kill you. In fact, they have to see you off properly."

"So no matter what happens to me, you’re guaranteed to come out ahead?" Mai Mingle gave a bitter laugh.

"The longer you take to find the face, the longer my stomach has to go hungry. It’s very hard on me, you know," the woman said. "You’ve already wasted five minutes. Wasting time is extremely detrimental to you. Aren’t you going to get out there and find the face?"

Too drained to even curse, Mai Mingle turned and walked away without another word.

So this whole restaurant task was a trap, and she was caught in it.

For her, there were landmines and dangers everywhere. She had to wrack her brain and tread carefully, and the best possible outcome was simply getting out with her life. For the residents, however, the worst-case scenario was just things going back to the way they were.

In her entire life, she had encountered countless unpleasant things. This one probably ranked in the top ten.

The human world was unjust, and so was the Nest.

Mai Mingle quickly circled the restaurant several times, checking under the tables, under the chairs, and in the corners. There were no human faces lying around anywhere.

Even though she knew the diners couldn’t make a move on her yet, she still kept a wide berth from the table with the three female guests. When searching, she even crouched down on the opposite side of the room to peer at the space under their table from afar.

After all, theirs was the only table in the entire restaurant with just a single fish on it.

If her deduction about the second rule was correct, then the moment the female guests invited her to eat fish, it would be over for her.

At that point, she would be trapped in a situation where she would be forced to violate the second rule: she couldn’t refuse to eat, but she also couldn’t choose another food to eat instead.

Based on what she knew, the consequence for breaking a rule was undoubtedly death. In other words, "the female guests invite you to eat fish" was basically a checkmate, a no-win situation.

So not only did Mai Mingle keep her distance, she also deliberately avoided the female guests’ gazes, making no eye contact with them. But looking under their table, she saw nothing but six human legs.

...Half of the second thirty-minute interval was already gone.

She took out the piece of toilet paper where she’d used an eyebrow pencil to jot down keywords in the restroom. She compared the light brown writing with the black ink for a moment before putting it away, still clueless.

’Maybe I should check the decorative wall again?’

Mai Mingle put the paper away, crossed the dining area, and walked toward the decorative wall covered in photos and magazine clippings.

It was strange. The food on some tables was bizarre and disgusting, like the fish and the "broccoli." Yet the food on other tables wasn’t just normal, it was fragrant and appetizing—like the steaming hot platter of tacos in the waiter’s hands.

"Took you long enough," the male guest with the earring stud complained as the waiter placed the six tacos onto three separate plates.

At the next table over, the couple with their heads bowed sat in silence. One stared at the wall on this side, the other at the wall on that side. Mai Mingle followed the wife’s gaze and saw that it was studying its reflection in the mirrored wall, its expression empty and tinged with a hint of melancholy.

Under the stares of the two waiters, Mai Mingle once again stood before the decorative wall.

As if to emphasize the restaurant’s relationship with celebrities, the famous faces in every photo were clear and prominently large.

Most of the photos were taken when celebrities dined at the restaurant; the background was familiar. Names and dates were noted beneath each photo—though of course, Mai Mingle didn’t recognize a single one. Many of the names weren’t even written in a human language. The moment her eyes fell on them, it felt as if countless dark, twisted things were crawling from her eyeballs into her brain.

She didn’t dare look for long, forcing her gaze to stay on the human text. Generally, if a name was written in a human language, the celebrity’s appearance was also more or less human:

The photo captioned "Pet Shop Owner, taken June 21, 2024" showed a middle-aged woman with a sullen face. The shot was cropped at her chest, so it was impossible to tell if she was holding a pet.

In the photo captioned "Little Robert Sargis, taken Christmas 2025," a curly-haired man in his forties had his arm around a waiter’s shoulder, smiling at the camera.

In the photo captioned "Robbie Margaret, taken August 5, 2023," a brown-eyed woman with a long neck and an elegant hairstyle had her head tilted, smiling as she clinked glasses with something that didn’t look human.

"Xia Tian, died September 3, 2026"—this photo showed a pale girl with a tense expression, sitting at table number four, her hand just about to reach for a taco on the table in front of her.

Seeing it again was just as unsettling. They had actually photographed the moment right before Xia Tian’s death and posted it on the wall...

The newspaper clippings spoke of "fondness" and "regret," but every word oozed with a twisted delight, as if her death was something the residents of the Nest could savor, toy with, and enjoy forever.

’Are these disgusting things in the Nest... all sourced from humans?’

Mai Mingle truly didn’t want to look anymore and turned to leave. But before she’d even taken a full step, she suddenly stopped and turned back.

’Didn’t the woman applying makeup say that things could be taken freely? Did that include the photos?’

Mai Mingle glanced back at the waiters.

Behind the bar, those two unsettling faces were staring right at her, but even when she peeled the photo off the wall and stuffed it into her pants pocket, they didn’t say a word to stop her.

’Just as I thought... I can take the paper and pen, and I can take the photo, too.’

Since she couldn’t bring Xia Tian’s body back to Blackmoor City, she could at least take this picture with her.

’Even if it’s just a final, lingering image from before her death, Xia Tian would surely want to go home.’

Mai Mingle turned around again.

This time, just as she was about to take a step, she froze.

...She had found the first piece of the face.