Illusion Report

Mai Mingle forced her legs, which felt as if they’d been deboned, to carry her into the restroom. Each step was a struggle. She presented her forehead to the makeup woman. When she reemerged, she met the wife’s gaze and walked over to their table.

"I never would have guessed you were so bold. So? Do you believe me now?"

The wife said with a smile, "The rule is that you can’t touch a diner’s face. If you only touch something a guest is wearing on their face, that doesn’t count as touching their face. It’s not a violation. If you don’t believe me, go try again. Take off its glasses."

’How could I possibly try again? I can barely stand as it is.’

In her peripheral vision, the faces of the three female guests were still fixed on her. Although they hadn’t made a sound, Mai Mingle could feel their dark, roiling displeasure.

"Like I said, we can protect you. And when the time is right, we’ll tell you the locations of the last few face pieces. That way, everyone wins. Isn’t that a much better solution?"

For the first time, Mai Mingle seriously considered its proposal.

"What do you mean, ’when the time is right’? I don’t want to drag this out. I want to get out of here as soon as possible."

She placed a hand on the table, unable to resist leaning a little of her weight on it.

’Thinking back, ever since I fell back into Blackmoor City at dawn, I haven’t stopped for a moment. I’ve either been walking or running for my life, without a single chance to even close my eyes.’

’Even a young person couldn’t take this kind of punishment.’

"By the end of the second hour, we can definitely get you out of here." The wife seemed very confident. "We’re not the only ones who want to take this opportunity to encroach on its territory. As soon as someone takes the lead, the others will follow suit. It won’t take long."

"So how will you protect me?"

The wife thought for a moment. "During the third half-hour, we can’t leave our seats. You know that, right?"

"I know."

"If you’re walking around the restaurant, even if I keep an eye on you, there will definitely be moments when I can’t watch you properly. We just discussed it, and we think the best solution is for you to stay right by our side."

Mai Mingle froze.

During the third half-hour, no one could leave their seat. So, if she stayed by the couple’s side the entire time, the others truly wouldn’t have a chance to harm her—assuming, of course, that the couple wouldn’t attack her the instant the fourth half-hour began.

"I have one condition," Mai Mingle said tentatively after a moment’s hesitation. "Before the fourth hour begins, I’m going to move away from you and hide over by the bar. If you really want to protect me, don’t let any of the other diners get near the bar."

’I desperately need a few minutes of peace to rest, and I also need to think carefully about the clues for the remaining face pieces. I certainly can’t bet all my hopes on a pair of residents.’

The wife glanced at the husband. "Alright. If that will make you feel more at ease."

It seemed she had finally managed to persuade her husband. The husband stopped complaining, even pulling out a chair and gesturing for Mai Mingle. "Go on, sit here. You’ll be in the middle. If anything happens, we can both look out for you."

Mai Mingle acknowledged him, stepped around to the front of the chair, and was about to sit down.

Something in the depths of her mind went CLICK.

It was as if a missing piece of the puzzle had finally slotted into place. In that instant, Mai Mingle suddenly saw the full picture of the "bomb" before her.

Her body was already in the process of sitting, like she was falling into a pool of icy water. She knew falling meant death, but she was already past the point where she could stand back up.

At some point, the husband and wife had both craned their heads over the center of the table, turning to stare at her, their smiles unnaturally wide, their eyes round.

They looked so... expectant.

...’I can’t die here. Absolutely not.’

’I still haven’t had a chance to make up for the regrets of my past life in this one.’

In a split second, Mai Mingle shot her hand out and grabbed the edge of the table. She wasn’t afraid of falling to the floor; she was only afraid of sitting on that chair, even for a moment. As she gripped the table’s edge and twisted her body, she simultaneously flung her arm back with all her might.

CLANG! The chair was knocked to the floor. Mai Mingle staggered, then tripped over the chair’s leg. She finally lost her balance, the world spun, and her entire back slammed onto the hard floor.

She felt one of her feet was still tangled in the chair. In her haste and panic, she kicked it away. The chair skittered a few feet across the floor, the sound shockingly loud in the suddenly silent restaurant.

Mai Mingle scrambled up from the floor. She didn’t have time to look at the other diners; her head snapped up to look at the central round table not far away.

Where two chairs had been placed, there was now only one.

She stared blankly at the empty space where a chair should have been, then glanced at the chair she had kicked over on the floor.

Considering the restaurant’s layout—a pair of chairs on either side of each table—there shouldn’t have been a chair in the middle of the couple’s table.

The blood drained from her face as delayed terror washed over her, but it was cut short by an enraged roar— "She almost sat down she was so close why didn’t she sit down! WHY!"

Mai Mingle flinched.

The husband’s face was flushed beet-red. He fell back against his chair, kicking the table leg over and over. Several kicks landed on the wife’s leg, but she seemed completely oblivious, only continuing to howl like a child: "You said this plan would work! You said it! And now you let her find a face piece for nothing! I wanted her to sit down why didn’t she sit down we were so close!"