Illusion Report

Chapter 358: Chapter 310: Brianna: Final Apology and Surviving the Night

At that moment, countless clamorous, deafening shouts and screams rang out in Brianna’s mind.

It was like a choir of countless residents, all opening their innumerable, dark, cavernous mouths at once. The wave of sound occupied her thoughts, the air, everything in the world she could perceive.

Each mouth spoke its own words, the voices rattling her skull.

’Should I save him? I probably should, right? Mom would be heartbroken if she knew it came to this between us, father and daughter.’

’This old bastard is tough. Is my own luck at survival inherited from him? What will it take to finally kill him?’

’How can you kill your own father? Your own flesh and blood? A father? You can’t. It’s a sin, a sin, a sin.’

’Great, I get to kill him again. This time, I’ll give him hope, then make him feel terror. Delicious. Kill him again and again and...’

"I... I’m sorry... Bree."

The countless deafening cries in her mind instantly fell into a snow-white silence.

The strength drained from Brianna’s legs, and she slowly sat down on the floor.

She wanted so badly to collapse, to curl into a tiny ball and lean against Westley, like a small child resting her back against her parents.

Her father didn’t open his eyes. It looked like it was difficult, a great effort.

It was good that he didn’t open them.

She wanted to close her eyes, too, and stop looking at this weary world.

After what felt like a long time, a thought finally began to sprout in Brianna’s blank mind.

Huh?

’Is this a ploy to save his life? Is he trying to move me so I’ll spare him?’

Given Westley’s calculating nature, using an appeasement tactic was highly likely.

But one thing made it seem so unrealistic.

Westley would first have to realize that his actions might have been wrong to even think of using an apology to soften her—but from Brianna’s years of observation, she knew he never thought he was wrong.

Brianna was like a tumor growing ever larger on his body: ugly, mutated, something that absolutely shouldn’t exist, yet stubbornly attached to his own flesh and blood, refusing to disappear.

How could someone who wanted to excise a tumor think they were at fault? How could they apologize to the tumor?

Although these were her thoughts, she could only ask in a small voice, "Why are you apologizing?"

But her father said nothing more. That gossamer thread of life seemed to be drifting farther away, and she didn’t know if it would ever return.

Brianna waited patiently for a while, feeling he should be completely dead by now. Just as she was about to give up and get up, her father suddenly spoke in a hoarse voice, "I’m sorry."

Clear and distinct. Utterly real.

She didn’t know what she did then, how she reacted. She might have screamed, or she might not have. She might have cried, or she might have been unmoved, or even laughing.

When Brianna came back to her senses, she found herself saying softly, "...It’s okay."

"I... am I going to die?"

"Yes."

Even if she could call for help and save his life right now, Brianna had no intention of moving.

You see, the logic was this:

Only if Westley died, and died with the clear knowledge that he was going to die with no hope left, would his "I’m sorry" have any meaning.

’How could she let the possibility of being "saved" tarnish his "I’m sorry"? She couldn’t, could she? Could she?’

’Death is the most sincere and purest apology.’

"I don’t blame you..."

"Oh."

"I hope... you can recover... be happy."

She fell silent for a moment.

’Recover? Happy? Are those the words he used? Does "recover" mean "return to normal"?’

’And happy? Does he know that my happiness is Morando?’

Brianna nodded blankly, not thinking she truly understood. The meaning of his words was abstract and incomprehensible to her.

Westley fell silent.

Brianna said, "Hey," and reached out a hand. After a second or two of hesitation, she carefully nudged him. "Are you dead yet?"

A muffled grunt escaped his nose.

"Who?" He seemed to have forgotten where he was. "Who... are you?"

"It’s me, Dad." She lowered her head and said, "I’m Brianna."

Westley’s throat bobbed. He started to cough but choked it back. "Bree... you have to win..."

"I will," Brianna replied subconsciously, then it hit her. "The Nest Dominance Game?"

Westley’s voice was a mere thread. "Take... take... the rumor..."

’Ah, right. I was so agitated just now that I attacked him without even thinking about how I would take the rumor after he was dead.’

’Good thing Dad isn’t completely dead yet and can still talk.’

"Then say it," Brianna urged. "Say the line."

Westley was fading. After a long moment, he only managed a vague "Huh?" as if he could no longer even understand the meaning of language.

’His consciousness is already scattered. It’s a miracle he’s held on this long.’

"Dad? Here, repeat after me: ’I have a rumor to tell you.’"

Only if he said it would Brianna believe that Westley truly wanted her to win.

’And if he truly wanted me to win, then his apology just now must have been sincere too, right?’

Her father opened his mouth, his tongue trembling slightly.

"I... I have a... rumor... to tell you."

Brianna was trembling all over; she didn’t know why. The hair on her arms stood on end. She wanted to cry, and she wanted to laugh.

"I heard a rumor," Brianna heard herself reply gently.

The handover dialogue was complete. The next second, she felt her tongue slide to the side, pushing out a lump in her cheek.

The rumor was reclaimed.

Westley spoke no more. He seemed to have completed his final task as a father and fell completely still. He would never speak another word to his daughter, never look at her again.

"Thank you, Dad."

Brianna slowly stood up and wiped the cold tears from her face.

Three of the four Illusions had been successfully recovered. She just needed to get the key from Fu Tailan, and her progress in the Nest Dominance Game would be completely unimpeded.

Once the real Vulture entered this world, she could even have it continue to impersonate Westley and use his resources... His wife would probably be willing, too, right?

After she had electrocuted Fu Tailan, he was still lying motionless in the corner by an overturned chair. It seemed even if he wasn’t dead, he was eighty percent of the way there.

Since he had been eliminated from the Nest Dominance Game, she might as well spare his life after taking back the key.

She was feeling magnanimous now.

’After all, he was the only child in the world who had ever truly understood me.’

’Those few minutes of resonance were a lifetime to me.’

’A lifetime.’

’A lifetime.’

Brianna stopped in her tracks.

She tilted her head, staring at Fu Tailan on the floor. She vaguely felt that something wasn’t right, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.

When she had knocked him down with the electric baton, the room was still filled with white smoke. So Brianna couldn’t clearly recall the direction he was facing, his posture, or his appearance when he fell...

’Was his face buried in the shadow of the chair?’

’Was one of his arms lying next to his head?’

’Which way was he looking when he fell?’

Brianna tried hard to remember, but besides the fact that he had indeed fallen near the wall, she couldn’t be sure of anything else.

She looked around.

The compression Illusion that Westley had used was nowhere to be seen; she must have kicked it somewhere. It had probably rolled under a piece of furniture.

She turned around again and saw Fu Tailan.

The boy was sitting up against the corner of the wall, looking at her. He let out a low sigh.

"Good thing you got suspicious in time, big sister."

He looked at Brianna and said, almost gently, "It was only a matter of two steps... To be honest, I wouldn’t want my memories of you for the rest of my life to be of you compressed into a vacuum-sealed package."

Brianna’s eyes slowly widened.

It was as if her eyelids were not under her control, gradually retracting up and down as if they meant to meet at the back of her head... She was aware that Green’s eyes were widening, showing more and more of the whites.

’Wasn’t the electric shock as bad as I thought? He woke up so quickly... no, he must have been awake for a while.’

’Did he use the opportunity of Dad’s last words to find that compression Illusion? What incredible luck. Too much of a coincidence.’

’This is bad, this is bad. This is going to be tricky. The distance... right, attack range.’

Brianna took several quick steps back, staring at him, her heart pounding.

"Don’t be scared. If you had entered my attack range, I would have acted already. Like I said, it was a matter of two steps."

Fu Tailan was holding a gun in his left hand—no, that wasn’t right. It looked a bit like a gun, but the "trigger" was on its back. His right hand was hovering over the "trigger," seemingly ready to press down at any moment.

"It’s pretty powerful, but as you can see, this thing is awkward to use."

Fu Tailan lowered the muzzle slightly. He pressed his right hand on the "trigger," gave a hard pull upward, and the electric baton on the floor let out a sharp CRACK. After a flash of distorted white light, it was compressed into a dark, unrecognizable lump.

"You have to hold it with two hands, pull like this, then press it back... No wonder he managed to compress the wallet but didn’t have time to compress the lighter."

’The only thing I have left that can be used for an attack is the Black Cube.’

But compared to a "weapon," the Black Cube was more like a trap.

She would have to take it out, turn it to the correct orientation in her hand, find the "character input face," and give it a command... Before she could finish this series of actions, Fu Tailan would have probably already compressed her into a meatball.

"Alright, what do you want?"

Brianna raised her hands as if in surrender. "Are you going to kill me?"

Fu Tailan tilted his head, studying her for a moment.

"Shouldn’t you be counter-attacking me right away? You have three target Illusions on you. Is it because none of the three Illusions you have are suitable for attacking? Hmm, that Black Cube does look like it needs to be set up in advance..."

Brianna gritted her teeth and said nothing.

"While I don’t want to kill you, that’s not to say I’m incapable of it."

Fu Tailan frowned slightly. "It’s just... you didn’t die tonight... which is very strange. The things you have aren’t suited for offense, and I was prepared to kill you, yet you still survived the night..."

’Does he think I still have some trick up my sleeve?’

’Is that why he hasn’t acted rashly?’

But even Brianna herself didn’t know what could save her now. No, if she was going to survive, she must have played a card that Fu Tailan couldn’t refuse...

Just then, a long, piercing siren suddenly rang out from the main hall of the safe room.

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