Chapter 101: Chapter 71: Mai Mingle - On the Importance of Taking a Nap
In her eighty-six years of life, this was the first time she had ever lifted a chair and brought it down on someone’s head with enough force to kill.
It was also the first time in her eighty-six years that she felt the excitement and craving deep in her blood, stirred by violence. A fierce, animalistic impulse screamed within her, urging her to lift the chair again, to keep smashing, to destroy the entire restaurant and shatter every face inside.
’...Is this dark side of humanity what created the residents of the Nest?’
The thought flowed like cool water into her scorching, restless blood. Mai Mingle hastily backed away from the wife, her heart pounding in her chest.
Perhaps humans truly are seventy percent water, and life’s circumstances are but a vessel. The light a person casts is merely a reflection of the vessel that holds them.
She steadied her breathing and turned toward the restroom. Just one face left, and she could finally get out of this damn restaurant.
As she walked past the clock, Mai Mingle glanced up. In a few more minutes, these residents would be able to get up from their chairs. She didn’t know what she would be facing then—just thinking about it made her blood run cold.
In this cramped restaurant, she didn’t just have to face the residents—she had to face fifteen of them.
’The mouth—where on earth is that mouth?’
Pushing open the restroom door, the woman touching up her makeup was there, just like the previous times, already holding a hand out behind her as if she had been expecting her.
As she moved to hand over the eye, Mai Mingle felt an irrepressible anxiety, tinged with despair, welling up inside her.
’An hour and a half. That shouldn’t feel short, so how did it fly by in the blink of an eye? If I didn’t have to keep running back to the restroom to deliver each face, I’d have at least ten minutes left—’
The memory of that conversational "fork in the road" flashed in her mind like a sudden spark.
"What’s wrong?"
The woman touching up her makeup held her hand stretched out behind her, urging, "Didn’t you find the eye? Give it to me."
Mai Mingle’s hand, holding the eye, was only a few inches from the woman’s upturned palm, but she froze.
She had been constantly worried about time, every passing minute feeling like another stone weighing her down. But she hadn’t realized that she herself had been unconsciously wasting time all along.
’...Unless I hand it over, it seems the woman can’t just reach out and take it.’
"Will they be able to enter the restroom soon?" Mai Mingle asked, pulling her hand back.
"Just give me the eye," the woman said impatiently.
"Answer my question."
"Give me the eye!" the woman shrieked.
"See? I should have known something was wrong sooner."
Mai Mingle stuffed the eye into her pants pocket, her hand still gripping it tightly, the eyelashes pricking her skin. "You told me that as soon as I found a face, I’d be acknowledged by the rules and wouldn’t have to worry about it being stolen. But at the same time, you’re the one who told me to bring each face back to you immediately... Why?
"You told me over and over that time was tight, and the more time passed, the more danger I’d be in. But don’t you realize that running back here every time I find a single face is the biggest waste of time there is?"
Whether it was the adrenaline from her earlier outburst finally fading or simply her own exhaustion, Mai Mingle was so tired she could barely stand. She moved to the side and slid down the wall to the floor. Wiping her forehead, she found her fingertips slick with sweat.
"Didn’t I tell you? This way I can start ’eating’ as soon as possible..."
"If you need the mouth to ’eat,’ then you can’t eat the other faces I bring you anyway. My coming back would just be a waste of time."
Mai Mingle wondered why she hadn’t seen through this simple logical problem sooner. "So that means one of two things: either you don’t need a mouth to ’eat,’ or that whole story was a damn lie."
"I don’t need a mouth to ’eat’!" the woman shrieked, her voice thin and irritated. "You’ve already figured that much out!"
"Then what’s the point of you eating?" Mai Mingle asked. "You said at the beginning that only when you start eating can you strengthen your control over the restaurant—the diner with the pearl necklace outside said the same thing. Is that right?"
The woman touching up her makeup suddenly fell silent.
After waiting a few seconds and seeing that it didn’t seem to intend to answer directly, Mai Mingle spoke again.
"Then logically, the more faces I bring you, the more you eat, and the stronger your control over the restaurant should become... But that’s not what’s happening, is it? In fact, no matter how many faces I bring you, your control over the restaurant is only getting weaker. That’s why, as time passes, the diners outside are becoming freer. Isn’t that right?"
"That’s all determined by the rules..." the woman said in a thin voice. "You don’t understand. I can’t rewrite the rules either."
"If the rules have already decided everything, then what’s the point of you eating or not? It can’t improve your situation at all." Mai Mingle shook her head. "If that’s the case, then there’s only one explanation for why you made me bring back the faces one by one."
The woman touching up her makeup paused, then said, "The third half-hour is about to be over, you know?"
"You just want me to waste time. You want to drag this out until the diners are free to move so they can kill me," Mai Mingle said. "You said it yourself: my death would be a great source of nourishment. And once I’m dead, the rules go... offline, right? Then the faces will return to you. That’s the ideal situation for you."
"That’s right. I never hid that from you," the woman said with a laugh. "What kind of new discovery is it to just repeat what I’ve already told you?"
"So how would you achieve this ideal outcome?" Mai Mingle ignored it, organizing her thoughts as she spoke. "By wasting my time, ensuring I can’t find all the faces, and letting the diners kill me."
"I can’t ensure you won’t find all the faces. I gave you all the clues. If you can’t find them, that’s your problem..." The woman paused, then let out a little "uh-oh" and chuckled. "The third half-hour just ended, you know."
Mai Mingle turned her head. In the silence of the restroom, she could only hear her own breathing. She thought she heard the sound of a chair leg scraping across the floor as it was pulled out, but she didn’t know how much of it was her imagination.
"If you think the other diners won’t come into the restroom, you’re mistaken," the woman continued. "Hiding in here won’t keep you safe."
"So, for you, what’s the worst-case scenario?"
Mai Mingle knew she was taking a risk, but some risks had to be taken. "Even though that wife was setting a trap for me earlier, what it said was logically consistent with the information you gave me before. So I think there’s one thing I can probably believe... that as long as I’m not dead, and you don’t have all the faces back, the rules don’t end, and the task is still active.
"For you, this is the worst-case scenario, right?"
"Not dead? How can you not die?" the woman scoffed. It seemed like she no longer cared about the eye Mai Mingle hadn’t given her. "They’re coming. Are you ready?"
This time it wasn’t her imagination; Mai Mingle could already hear footsteps in the short hallway outside. They seemed hesitant, not fast, but they were drawing closer to the restroom, step by step.
She let out a sharp breath. Her throat was tight with tension, and the exhale shuddered into the dead-silent air.
"I think there’s something else you said that was also true, because you had no reason to lie to me then."
The footsteps had almost reached the restroom door. And that was just the first one. Behind it, several more pairs of feet were quickly catching up.
"’Before you find all the faces, the other diners can make a move on you. But after you find all the faces, they, like me, can’t kill you. In fact, they have to see you off properly.’"
The woman’s back was ramrod straight; she didn’t speak.
"I found it. The seventh face."
Mai Mingle took the cap off the lipstick. Staring at the faint scratches on the tube of color, she raised her voice. "As long as I’ve found it, the rules acknowledge it, right?"
The restroom doorknob turned slightly, and the door was pushed open a crack.
"The seventh face is on the back of your head. The first time you explained the rules of the task to me, you couldn’t help but smile at me from within your hair." Mai Mingle held up the lipstick. "The scratches on the lipstick are from your hair. You said the seven faces were scattered throughout the restaurant... You never said they were only in the dining area. The restroom, naturally, is also part of this restaurant."
The restroom door stopped moving.
"Now that I’ve found all seven faces, none of you can touch me. But I still have an eye in my hand... one I haven’t given you yet."
In the dead silence, Mai Mingle let out a low laugh. "You’re just one face away from returning to normal and regaining control of the restaurant, but now you’re stuck in a stalemate... This is the worst-case scenario for you, isn’t it? What do you think? Do I feel like rewarding a liar with the final piece?"
"You... What are you going to do?"
Mai Mingle put the lipstick away, shoved her hands into her pants pockets, one hand gripping the eye, the other gripping the lipstick.
"Nothing," she said. "I’m tired. I think I’ll take a nap."
