Chapter 422 - 367: Brianna: Future Self and Original Goal

The surprise of hearing her own name was instantly replaced by another question.

'Wait, did the host just say this was the December 5th broadcast?'

There were indeed ways to "steal time" in the Nest, but they were few and required harsh conditions. Brianna had only crawled into the house; it was impossible that she'd lost two or three days in the process.

Ever since dying in the Nest and becoming a partial resident, her mind, in addition to Nest-related information, was now filled with likes and dislikes that bordered on prejudice—for instance, the mere thought of "the host" filled her with an inexplicable sense of disgust.

The host was famous among the Nest's residents, but being famous didn't mean he was well-liked.

They were all residents, yet it insisted on being secretive and mysterious, always acting as if it was a cut above everyone else. Who in the Nest couldn't see through its little games?

The broadcast announced December 5th, but wasn't it just something it said today? Did its mouth get ripped open so wide that just opening it once made it jump forward more than two days?

'Get some dignity. Even residents need a little shame.'

To show her disgust, Brianna faced the old-fashioned radio and made a dry-heaving sound, like a cat about to cough up a hairball.

This came from the part of her that was a resident; residents were never subtle or roundabout, and they never held back.

"Hear that?" She heaved again, then reached for the radio once more. "That's what I think about being your guest."

"If you had taken Jin Xueli's radio on December 2nd, you wouldn't have been able to hear what happened later, you know?"

The host spoke faintly, as if he could see her.

'It couldn't possibly be nearby—'

The thought had barely entered her mind, and before Brianna could look around, the next voice from the radio—hard and furious—startled her so badly she snatched her hand back as if zapped by electricity. "Shut up!"

…That was her own voice.

Even though it sounded a little unfamiliar—the voice hoarse, the breathing heavy—Brianna still recognized it.

'What's going on? Is there a resident who can imitate my voice?'

Although Brianna was wary of being tricked, she couldn't help but wonder: what would she hear if she didn't take it now?

'No, this has to be a trap… though she couldn't figure out its purpose.'

"For the sake of our listeners," the host said unhurriedly, "could you please tell us what you originally planned to do with the radio after taking it on December 2nd?"

When the host spoke, only its voice floated in the eerie silence.

But when the broadcast switched to Brianna's voice, she heard a background noise like boiling water—a world simmering faintly, its chaos suppressed under a lid. Only the piercing shriek of a car horn broke through Brianna's first sentence.

"Why didn't you just threaten me not to take it?"

On the broadcast, Brianna's voice was heavy, so heavy it was almost heartbreaking. 'Was she crying?' "Why did you let me know?"

'Know what?'

Before the host could speak, the her on the radio suddenly let out a laugh. It held no mirth, just air rushing past dry vocal cords.

"No, no… I should thank you. I should cooperate with you. After all, this is my goal too… I had already made up my mind… Knowing is actually better."

'What in the world is going on?'

As Brianna pulled her hand back from the radio, she realized her fingertips were trembling slightly.

"I originally planned to take the radio out of the Nest and lock it in a private vault."

That was right—though Brianna had only just seen the radio and hadn't had time to think about what to do with it, the thought of a vault had already faintly crossed her subconscious.

After taking over Jacqueline, she had learned from her memories that Westley had a highly secret, custom-built underground vault, which was perfect for storing the target Illusion.

Besides Westley and Jacqueline, no one else in the world was supposed to know this information. Yet now she was hearing it from the radio…

'Does that mean the person on the radio really is me?'

"I see," the host said, his voice almost gentle. "Locked away in a multi-layered, custom-built vault, you can't hear the broadcast. Even a radio from the Nest has places where it can't get a signal."

From the radio, Brianna heard herself let out a short, sharp, half-formed howl—which then cut off abruptly.

It was as if the moment she opened her mouth, she realized that no matter how tragic her howl, it could never break through the heavy, wet cloth pressed over her face. She could only be dazedly submerged in a screaming, snow-white silence.

"Please say a few words to our listeners," the host said, offering a rare chuckle. "You should know what to say. After all, you've already been through it once."

Brianna stared fearfully at the radio sitting deep in the darkness. She couldn't see a thing.

But she heard her future self, her voice trembling, say, "Don't move from that spot."

She was talking to herself.

"Just stay in that room and wait…"

Brianna's voice was like a dried butterfly specimen, unaware that it had already cracked, trying to flutter its wings only for pieces to crumble off. "The broadcast will come on again. When you hear it, you'll know…"

"Thank you very much for your cooperation." The host sounded like a reporter conducting a live interview, only when he spoke, there was dead silence behind him. "So, could you please explain why our listeners can't take the radio somewhere else to listen?"

The Brianna on the radio sneered. "Isn't it because you're afraid it'll affect your plan?"

"It's more convincing when it comes from your own perspective," the host said patiently.

The Brianna on the radio took a deep breath.

"You were the one who told me that if the radio was taken on December 2nd, my plan concerning Morando would fall short at the final hurdle. It took me so much effort to make her think I was dead…"

"Excellent, excellent," the host said, seemingly satisfied. "Please allow me to add something. This wasn't my prediction, guess, or even a threat at the time. This is something that actually happened. On December 2nd, you took the radio, which not only caused me considerable trouble, but also caused your own plan to fall short."

Neither the Brianna on the radio nor the one in the room made a sound.

Her future self might have understood, but the her of this moment couldn't figure it out—she clearly hadn't touched the radio, and the broadcast had started just in time to stop her. If it never happened, how could it be called "something that actually happened"?

"The only reason this broadcast exists is because I used a remarkable method."

Not understanding was so annoying so frustrating what did it mean was there something she didn't know

"I've always been full of admiration for you." The host was spouting nonsense again, the kind that made one's skin crawl. "To fight so desperately for an insignificant, ordinary person made of flesh and blood… Love is truly a potent form of self-indulgence."

'Maybe I should just smash the radio.'

"The dead can't be brought back to life, not even with the power of the Nest. So you were planning to…" The host paused pretentiously, as if in thought. "Your original goal was to win control, use the Nest's power to completely become Jin Xueli, and then close the Nest, wasn't it?"

'Why did he say "original" goal?'

"Why do you say 'original' goal?" The Brianna on the radio immediately asked, her tone wary.

…Of course. The future Brianna would naturally know the question that had just arisen in her mind today.

'So when she had the chance to ask, she naturally would. That must be it, right?'

"It's nothing, just confirming," the host said with a laugh.

Brianna was still waiting for her future self to speak, but she didn't expect the "interview" to end just like that.

Next, she only heard the host addressing the listeners: "I have great respect for my guest. It is only with my assistance that she has been able to advance her plans and smoothly accept this interview today. Allow me to wish her good luck, and I hope she gets everything she desires."

The broadcast ended.

In the air, the aftershocks of the sound waves spread out in ripples, widening, and gradually fading into silence. Darkness once again squeezed into her ear canals.

Brianna reached out her hand several times, but ultimately did not pick up the radio.

She decided to listen to her future self and wait here for a while—though the broadcast hadn't said how long she should wait.

Out of caution, she crawled back out and carried Jacqueline's body inside.

This room didn't allow anyone other than "Jin Xueli" to enter, not even Vulture. But the current Jacqueline was no longer considered a person; a corpse was naturally closer to an "object," so it entered smoothly.

Jin Xueli had only just left the Nest and was probably still sleeping. Even if she woke up, she wouldn't come back in right away, so there was no need to worry about being cornered in the room and caught red-handed.

Brianna positioned Jacqueline's body, shooed away something that was bending over in the dark to sniff the corpse, and waited for a long, dull time. The radio remained silent, and she started to feel a little drowsy.

She lay on the floor, folded her arms, and carefully turned her head to rest it on them—so she wouldn't mess up her disguise if she fell asleep.

Jacqueline's phone was placed beside her, making it easy to check the time.

Usually, when they had nothing to do and were tired of entertainment, residents would just laze around and sleep. When she had gone out earlier, Vulture had been sleeping on the road like a puddle of mud—that wasn't a metaphor. It was an earthy yellow, runny puddle of actual mud.

Brianna felt like she had only dozed off for a short while.

She hadn't had a single dream since she died, but this time, she unexpectedly dreamt of Morando.

Morando was wiping her sniper rifle. They seemed to be in their living room, but Morando still fired several shots out the window at some unknown target, as if adjusting the sights. BANG. BANG.

"Aren't you afraid you'll hit a passerby?"

Brianna was sitting in the wind, her feet—she had feet, she had feet again!—dangling and swaying in the howling gale.

Morando turned her head, and her gaze seemed to imprint the blue sky over a glacier onto her soul.

"…You have feelings for those passersby?" she asked with a low laugh, her words slurred.

No, that wasn't right. Morando didn't seem to have said that.

The wind was too strong; Brianna had to strain her ears, trying to parse the memory.

It sounded like she said… like she said, "You have feelings for that rooftop"?

'Rooftop? What rooftop?'

Brianna opened her eyes.

The wind, the gunshots, Morando's voice… None of it had been a dream.

The radio had turned on. On the screen of Jacqueline's phone on the floor, the words "December 3rd" were lit up.

On the radio, Jin Xueli was speaking, sounding a little ill at ease. "I can hardly say I saved you… you saved my life. That day you were zoning out at Between the Backlight, I just brought you home…"

When Brianna came to her senses, her face was pressed against the radio.

In her nostrils, her chest, her mind, her ears, there was only pitch-black, dead silence.

…Huh?

Huh huh huh huh huh?

Was this referring to the day Brianna let Morando think she was dead?

Huh?

Why did a small part of her also want to kill Morando?

Come to think of it it's so funny no way kill her kill her no way I was clearly prepared for this I was clearly hoping things would turn out this way kill her

Impossible otherwise wouldn't there be too many people she wants to kill killing so many one by one would be such a hassle so funny so funny so funny