Chapter 81: Chapter 57: Fu Tailan: The Thing He Wants Most (3)

The flip side of this assumption was that ’as long as you see the alert, it won’t appear a second time.’

Judging from Green’s behavior, this flip side, at least, seemed to be indirectly supported.

After all, if the alert would appear a second time as long as the trigger conditions were met—regardless of whether he’d seen it before—why would he have given Fu Tailan another chance to meet those conditions?

He would have avoided meeting Fu Tailan again, to say nothing of physical contact, just to prevent Fu Tailan from receiving a second alert.

It was precisely because Green had seen the alert that he never received a second one.

In other words, in Green’s impression, the "Amber Alert" was something that only appeared once.

Thus, it was understandable that he developed the belief that ’once it’s dealt with, I’ll never see it again.’

Although proving the flip side didn’t guarantee the original premise was true, as long as there was a possibility of triggering the "Amber Alert" a second time—no matter how slight—Fu Tailan had to try again and replicate the previous scenario.

Thankfully, the odds fell in his favor.

"I hope you don’t blame me for resorting to this."

Fu Tailan entered the password, opened the flat box, and took out his real phone. "Until I’ve confirmed the contents of the Amber Alert, I can’t let anything slip..."

He suddenly stopped, his words trailing off.

Fu Tailan stared at his phone without blinking, the screen’s light washing out his vision.

Outside the car window, the dazzling, decadent neon lights of Blackmoor City seemed to recede, growing ever more distant.

"...Tailan?"

Longzhen’s voice calling to him from behind sounded as if it were coming from another world. To Fu Tailan, it held no meaning; it was a ripple on the water’s surface, vanishing in an instant.

All he could see was the notification on his phone.

! Urgent Nest Information Bulletin !

This was the only line of complete human text, flanked by yellow triangular warning signs, each containing a bold exclamation mark.

The script used for the majority of the message was definitively not of any human language on Earth. It was as if black ink had been twisted and churned into writhing, insect-like shapes that seemed intent on crawling deep into one’s soul.

But interspersed within this "Nest script" were many characters and pictograms that Fu Tailan could recognize and understand. By ignoring the non-human language and picking out only the parts he could read, he could assemble a message that was, more or less, coherent.

The Secret Nest Dominance Game

Sole Competing Team

Items Collected: Key (pictogram), a Tongue (pictogram), a Black Cube (pictogram), Word Processing Software (pictogram)

Brianna

Items Not Yet Collected:

Old-fashioned Radio (pictogram)

Time (text)

???

Sole Competing Team: Massive Advantage

Conscripting New Rival: [Fu Tailan]

’...My interpretation should be correct, right?’

’The content of this message... It must be saying that in the "Secret Nest Dominance Game," the sole competing team has already collected four items.’

’Judging by the presence of the "Key," this competing team has to be Westley. And since they’ve already collected four items, they hold a massive advantage.’

’And now the "Nest Dominance Game" is conscripting me, Fu Tailan, to be Westley’s rival? And there are a total of seven items to be collected?’

’In other words... the "Time Illusion" that Westley commissioned the Morgan Family to find is one of the objectives in the "Nest Dominance Game," isn’t it?’

Fu Tailan still had many questions and uncertainties. For example, did the game have a time limit? And the notification didn’t specify what reward the winner would receive.

’...Perhaps it felt no explanation was necessary.’

’After all, the name of the game is the "Nest Dominance Game," isn’t it?’

At this thought, Fu Tailan spoke softly.

"Miss... do you have an Illusion on you that’s related to time?"

The young woman standing before him, Mai Mingle, kept her eyes lowered, lost in thought.

Her hair, though combed, was still a messy, uneven thatch, as if she had cut it herself at home with scissors. It was hardly a style one would expect from a woman her age—’she’d certainly put a lot of effort into looking like a vagrant.’

"I’m sorry, Miss," Fu Tailan said, slowly tightening his grip on her wrist. "Because I... no matter what it takes, I want to be free."