Chapter Twenty: Mai Minghe · Jonah’s Cry for Help

Mai Minghe was jolted by a shock that felt as if countless electric currents had surged through her entire body. She frantically exerted every ounce of strength she possessed to shove the sliding door forward. Her reaction was swift; before Jonah could squeeze his body through, the door slammed shut, pinning his neck firmly.

If only she could choke him to death like this, things might be simple.

Unfortunately, the door was pressing against the artery on the side of his neck. While it left his face suffused with blood and made his breathing labored, his windpipe remained free of fatal pressure. As long as he could breathe, he retained his strength. He hooked one hand onto the edge of the door and pushed back with all his might toward Mai Minghe.

The creature could even speak.

"Do you know?"

His breathing was ragged, yet his words were clear and complete: "Anyone who lingers in the Nest for more than seven days, or dies within it, has not only their body but their spirit, memories, emotions, experiences, and even their stray thoughts broken down, piece by piece. They are transformed into other forms, becoming a part of the Nest. You’ve lived a long life, haven’t you? You must have had your fair share of wicked thoughts, too. I wonder what kind of spectacle will emerge when you die here... It is quite rare to find someone who survives until their seventies before dying in the Nest."

She felt as if she understood, yet somehow, she didn't.

After death, one’s emotions, memories, and experiences all become part of the Nest? What did "a part" mean? Could her own memories turn into individual residents?

As if reading her thoughts, Jonah chuckled with a hoarse, rattling breath: "I am so curious to see what will emerge from eighty-six years of life..."

Was Jonah saying all this just to shake her resolve, as he had before?

Mai Minghe braced herself against the door, gritting her teeth. *He’s miscalculated,* she thought.

"Is it because Jonah always has to train the newcomers that you can't help but try to 'educate' me, too?"

Even as her muscles quivered and her body trembled, she didn't stop talking. Her voice was shaky but steady: "Living inside a person like some kind of intestinal parasite, you have no life experience. Who goes through a whole lifetime without suffering or hardship? But life always gives you little glimmers of light and tenderness when you least expect them."

"Even if you kill me here today and use me as raw material to produce more residents, I won't be in pain or anger. I didn't have many days left anyway, lying in bed day after day like a withered husk. The best parts of my life are long gone. But before it all ends, I get to be young again, to live once more, and to die as the person I remember myself being—who else gets such luck? This is the kindness fate has granted me. I’m quite happy about it."

"Shut up!" Jonah couldn't break in, but he roared hoarsely, "Shut up!"

"When one gets to my age, it’s hard not to be a bit long-winded once I start talking."

Jonah seemed genuinely enraged; he stopped speaking himself, pressing his lips into a thin line. The human and the head-creature, amidst their own heavy, labored breathing, engaged in a silent, reversed tug-of-war.

Mai Minghe, unable to help herself, spoke again.

"Since you've burrowed into Jonah's body, does he have no autonomy left at all? Hey, young man, are you still in there? Can you do something about that brain parasite? This can't go on."

Jonah’s face had long since burst with capillaries, covered in shocking, dark-red spots, looking like a bloated purple grape. Yet he seemed not to care, nor did he respond to Mai Minghe’s words; he continued to pull at the door.

People are prone to getting stuck in a rut; now it seemed that even things that weren't people were just as stubborn.

Mai Minghe knew her physical strength was no match for Jonah’s.

Even if she had regained her youth, that was only compared to her eighty-six-year-old self. Jonah was strong, fit, and accustomed to life-and-death struggles—they were never on the same level to begin with. Moreover, elderly people have poor appetites; before she fell into the Nest, she had only eaten a few crackers and a bit of egg, all of which she had vomited up. Looking at the mangled corpse of the "child" on the floor, she actually felt a twinge of hunger.

She had only held on this long by taking advantage of her position. If this stalemate continued, she was bound to fail.

Mai Minghe glanced at the mangled corpse on the floor again and suddenly sucked in a cold breath between her teeth: "Huh?"

The flash of surprise caused her grip to loosen instinctively.

Jonah reacted instantly, following her gaze and lowering his head. Mai Minghe had been waiting for this moment. She seized the opportunity, threw her entire weight forward, and slammed the sliding door shut with all her might. A hoarse, dry scream escaped Jonah as he was caught between the door and the wall, sounding like a crushed, hollow rubber hose.

"A child's trick, and it actually made you look down," Mai Minghe said, though her heart sank.

She had hoped that when Jonah looked down, she would have a chance to close the door completely.

Now, the situation was no different than before, and she had no idea how much longer this stalemate would last.

Air wheezed in and out of Jonah’s throat intermittently, each breath sounding more difficult than the last.

Had his windpipe been crushed?

Because he had turned his head, it was difficult to tell from her angle.

"I... I..." Jonah faced the wall, his voice muffled and raspy. It didn't sound like speech; it sounded like a leaking balloon. "I am... a hunter sent by the Morgan family..."

Even now, he was still worried about introducing himself?

Just as Mai Minghe felt a surge of doubt, she sensed something unusual and continued to listen.

"My name is Jonah Jenko... This is my fifth day in the Nest..." he said with great difficulty. "Please... go to the Morgan family... call for rescue..."

Goosebumps erupted across Mai Minghe’s skin.

Perhaps because something vital had been compressed, temporarily blocking the resident’s control, the person speaking to her now was not a Nest resident intent on killing her, but Jonah, a hunter from Blackmoor City, begging for his life.

"Where are your companions?" Mai Minghe asked, struggling to speak herself. "Can you call them here? As you can see, I can barely save myself."

Her limbs had long since begun to fail her, and she had been telling herself "hold on for one more second" over and over again to keep going.

"Get out... get out of the Nest immediately..." Jonah continued to gasp.

"I can't get out," Mai Minghe interrupted. "Can you control your own body and stop the residents from hunting me? The Nest exit is still very far from here—"

"No, no... It lied to you."

Mai Minghe clamped her mouth shut, her teeth clicking together.

"How the path was created... is how you return..." Jonah’s throat made a clicking sound twice, then fell silent.

Just as Mai Minghe’s heart sank, fearing the resident had reclaimed control, he spoke again, out of the blue: "You fell in through the television... television... go back. You have already walked the path once, so you will have a feeling when you see it again..."

"But if I let go, the residents will regain control over you, won't they?" Mai Minghe, unable to hide her anxiety, said, "Even if I could run, I don't know if I could find the tele—"

The word "vision" was cut short in her throat.

Her gaze remained fixed deep within the room.

After a few seconds, Mai Minghe asked in a low voice, "When I see the path, I will know it is the path—is that what you mean?"

Jonah’s throat hissed, as if he could no longer answer her.

Mai Minghe couldn't help but swallow, her heartbeat loud enough to hear in her own ears.

In the dimness, she could barely make out a small door at the other end of the room.

Although the medical imaging room had no windows leading outside, there was a small room partitioned off inside. That door led to the small room, and next to the door was a glass window facing the X-ray machine.

When she had been looking for a weapon, she had only searched nearby, so she hadn't paid any attention to the small door or the window. Now, she suddenly realized something—when she had gone for X-rays in the past, the doctor would often sit in that small room.

Why sit there?

Because the doctor needed to operate the equipment and view the images.

From the edge of the window, she could see the silhouette of a computer screen. Without light, everything was blurry; if she hadn't been paying attention, she might not have realized it was a screen.

The screen was used for medical imaging, and it was quite large. The feeling she had while lying on the bed, the desperate urge to reach the television, suddenly ignited in Mai Minghe’s heart like a wildfire, burning brighter and brighter.

Could it be that her path wasn't a television, but a "screen"?

That didn't make sense; when she passed the nurses' station, she had seen computer screens on the counters, so why hadn't she felt anything then?

That question wasn't important right now; this was no time to ponder it.

"Hey, Jonah?" Mai Minghe called out. She wanted to confirm her guess, but there was only a gurgling sound in Jonah’s throat.

"How should I find the Morgan family? Do you have... their phone number?"

You wouldn't find a hunter family in the Yellow Pages—oh, right, there were no Yellow Pages anymore. People used to worry about not being found and would register their home numbers in public directories. Nowadays, it was the exact opposite; people seemed most terrified of "privacy leaks."

The world had changed.

How was she supposed to find the "Morgan family"? Was it on a smartphone? She couldn't let a good kid die because of some wretched parasite.

Mai Minghe called to him a few more times, but Jonah gave no response.

She looked at the screen in the small room, the wildfire in her heart burning.

If her guess was wrong and she risked running to the small room only to find she couldn't return to Blackmoor City, it would certainly be the end of her. But staying in this stalemate would also lead to her death.

Since there was danger either way, she might as well act.

Mai Minghe took a deep breath and lowered the foot she had been using to brace the door.

She let go. As the pressure on the door eased, the resident instantly revived. The moment the sliding door was shoved open by Jonah’s shoulder, Mai Minghe sprinted toward the small room.