Illusion Report

Chapter 339: Chapter 295: Brianna, November 16

Every time she saw her father now, it was an insufferable nuisance.

Brianna’s feelings for him were incredibly complex, but in recent months, a new, unprecedented sense of contemptuous amusement had taken root.

The irritation began to set in before she even turned onto the private, tree-lined road leading to the manor, right at the intersection with the public road. A single iron gate was no longer enough; now there was a 24-hour armed checkpoint. Every time she arrived, she was stopped for a thorough inspection—no exceptions, even though the security staff knew she was Westley’s personal secretary.

Who would have guessed that it was still a forty-minute drive from this intersection to the manor’s main gate? And the road itself was lined with guards at every turn.

Not only was she made to get out of the car at each stop, but the glove compartment, the space under the seats, the trunk, and even the undercarriage of the car were all scanned with a metal detector.

Several men’s hands would pat down her body—even though it was a man’s body now, the feeling was just as disgusting—up, down, and all over, several times.

Every time Brianna got back into the car, a nameless rage would simmer within her.

Tonight, just as she was approaching the intersection, something even more irritating happened—Fu Tailan had probably pocket-dialed her. She’d answered, "Hello? Hello?" a few times from inside her car, but could only hear muffled, jumbled noises on the other end before she finally hung up.

’Seriously? The Hunter Chief can’t even keep his own phone in check?’

She endured the security check and drove toward the manor, now shrouded in night.

A new guard tower had been erected behind the manor. In addition to armed patrol drones, it was equipped with a rare Illusion.

The Illusion could remotely capture the personal information of every person within a ten-kilometer radius. Their name, age, location, profession, physical appearance, and other visual data would all be sent back to the manor’s security center. It was even clearer if the person was carrying an Illusion or a weapon.

Every time another person entered the Illusion’s coverage area, a new file on them would appear on the security center’s list. It never failed.

Brianna herself had gone to great lengths to track down that Illusion. It had cost her immense time and effort; the price tag of several million dollars was hardly worth mentioning in comparison.

But when she presented it to her father, he just sneered. "What about Illusions? How am I supposed to stop someone from using an Illusion to hurt me?"

"An Illusion still has to be carried by someone..."

"Can you guarantee there aren’t Illusions that can autonomously approach and assassinate a target once they’re set? Or ones that don’t even need to get close, that can kill from half a world away?"

Of course, Brianna couldn’t guarantee that.

’But if an Illusion like that really did exist and its owner truly wanted to kill Westley, how could she possibly defend against it? She was just a half-resident, half-Hunter, not Santa Claus. This was about setting up security, not making wishes to the heavens—there’s always a limit to what one person can do.’

’If there were, you’d be dead already.’

It took a great deal of effort for her to swallow those words.

These various security measures were only the ones Brianna knew about.

Westley didn’t fully trust her. Only he likely knew the full extent of the manor’s security—how many layers it had, how tight it was, and what methods were being used. Even with his own daughter inside George Green’s body, she wasn’t privy to that information.

’So suspicious, so terrified of death, full of petty wariness, cowardly and fussy...’

Sometimes, Brianna would just stand up to get a cup of coffee, and her father would startle. He would stare at her intently with his cloudy, teary blue eyes, like a child terrified of being abandoned by its mother, and pester her, "Where are you going?" After she answered, he’d command, "Don’t go. Have them bring it in. You stay right here and keep an eye on things for me."

And this was with two bodyguards standing right behind him.

’No, he was more like a cowering, trembling, foul-tempered, and shrill, picky slug. You couldn’t shake him off; if you tried, he’d shriek, fly into a rage, and try to bite you.’

’If you were going to be this timid and cowardly, you shouldn’t have been so greedy in the first place, should you?’

’The only person who thinks you absolutely cannot be allowed to die is you.’

’In any case, no one in this entire manor would shed a single tear for you,’ Brianna thought.

’I wouldn’t, and Jacqueline definitely wouldn’t. She’s not trusted either; she gets searched by the bodyguards every time she enters a room Westley’s in.’

’If you had to ask who might muster up a little grief... perhaps his other two children?’

Even though this was what she truly thought, for some reason, she still dutifully stood guard for him, found Illusions for him, and had even reassured him, telling him not to worry.

’Muscle memory, perhaps.’

No, it was more likely because without Westley, the search for the seven target Illusions wouldn’t be going so smoothly. To have already obtained four of them so quickly was completely beyond her expectations.

Westley, however, did not see it that way.

When she arrived back at the manor, however, she was stopped by a newly transferred bodyguard—she thought his name was Ivan or something. He told her that Westley had returned early and was now in the study, requesting her presence.

For some reason, the bodyguard looked completely out of it, his mind elsewhere, and he looked pale. But that was none of Brianna’s concern; her thoughts were still on Westley’s summons.

As she had approached the manor, a "George Green" had naturally been added to the security center’s list. Not to mention all the checkpoints along the way, so it was no surprise at all that Westley knew she was back.

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