Artifact Report

Chapter 402 Fu Tailan - Not Because He's Very Smart

He was still standing in the apartment.

Fu Tailan was split in two: one half was in the familiar apartment where she had lived for two years, and the other half was missing a person she had just met.

His partner knows he is still seventeen. Tonight, the rain is torrential, and he is all alone.

Even if you discover it's a hallucination, are you still unable to escape?

That's a bit strange.

Fu Tailan closed her eyes and felt the sensation in both hands: one hand gripping the doorknob, the other the machine gun.

If he didn't look at it, he wouldn't even be able to feel the shape of the door handle... It had no weight, no temperature, no shape or material.

What color was it? What form was it? I can't remember at all. Even if it was a hallucination, shouldn't I remember what it looked like in the hallucination?
Similarly, he couldn't recall the details of Hazel's face. What color were her eyes? Did she wear earrings? Did she have freckles?

When I reached out to grab it, there was nothing there.

Only the impressions of "doorknob" and "hazelnut" were projected into his mind like a 3D projection—strangely, his brain was so easily convinced.

No, it can't even be called being "persuaded"; it's more like... more like the body was removed. The brain is directly immersed in sensory signals, everything is more real, more intense, and closer to the soul than reality.

What's even stranger is that the machine gun in his right hand felt heavy and clearly weighty.

His fingertips traced the welding lines of the machine gun, the texture of the handle, each screw... he even touched the manufacturer's stamp.

Such a wealth of detail cannot be explained by hallucination.

The machine gun actually exists—how is that possible?

One hand holds absolute reality, the other holds vague concepts.

Even though you know it's all fake, your mind is still deeply immersed in a hazy sense of "reality," unable to wake up—ah, so that's how it is.

No wonder it looks so familiar.

“This is a dream,” Fu Tailan said somewhat indistinctly. “I…I’m trapped in a dream.”

After he finished speaking, nothing changed.

Why can't I wake up? Is this an effect caused by an illusion? But even if it's an illusion, it has to end eventually... Could it be that the conditions for ending the effect haven't been met?
Is it enough to simply be aware that you are dreaming?

Fu Tailan kept his eyes closed; the rain poured heavily on him, his wet clothes felt so heavy they seemed to press him into the earth, and his hands and feet were icy cold.

“It made me pick up a real gun in my dream…” he murmured, “because you wanted me to shoot a target.”

No matter where Fu Tailan was captured by the dream, the target was definitely not near him.

This can be seen from the content of the dream: if we follow the dream, Fu Tailan will "enter the nest" and then inevitably have to run around and search in the nest - this "searching process" should lead him to the shooting target in reality.

Once the target enters his firing range, he will probably "find" the hazelnut in danger in his dream.

"Is the condition for ending the dream to be a shooting?"

Fu Tailan suddenly understood and smiled softly. "The ultimate goal is to shoot the target. Once the goal is achieved, there's no need for the dream to continue. So... what if I fire the gun prematurely? Can you predict that someone will wake up halfway through the dream?"

Before he finished speaking, he had already raised the machine gun.

He raised the gun into the torrential rain and unleashed a barrage of bullets into the sky—the gunshots pierced his eardrums, shook the four walls of the apartment, and shattered the dreams that still lingered in his mind.

Fu Tailan opened her eyes and woke up from her dream.

He was standing on a street shrouded in darkness by the storm; for a moment, he even thought he had returned to his lair.

Blackmore City, which is often jokingly said to still have traffic jams even in the nuclear winter, is currently deserted, with not a single car in sight.

The streetlights, neon signs, and building lights, almost like flickering candle flames, were torn apart by the long, dark wind, drifting in the rain in wisps.

Fu Tailan slowly lowered the gun, and when it was halfway down, she turned the muzzle and aimed it at her left shoulder.

A resident's face peeked out from his left shoulder. He knew it was a resident's face, not a human face—though in his peripheral vision, it was blurry and he couldn't make out the details.

Because no human face is like...like a dream.

How to describe it?
No human being has ever seen a "dream". Humans can only dream, walk in their dreams, see the world in their dreams, and talk to the people in their dreams... But the "dream" itself is just a series of neuronal signals that cannot be seen with the naked eye.

Until now.

Fu Tailan couldn't describe it in words; but even a slight glance out of the corner of his eye was enough for his brain to clearly receive the signal of "dream"—he dared not turn around, for fear that if he did, he would fall into the dream again.

"How did you find it?" the resident on the shoulder suddenly asked.

Its voice was like ocean waves shrouded in thick fog, indistinguishable between male and female, each word brimming with countless emotions... as if it had condensed the dreams of countless people and dripped them into its throat.

“Hazelnuts don’t exist.” Fu Tailan said with a calmness that even surprised herself, “That’s your biggest mistake.”

"...Oh? But you clearly cherish her. You even picked up a gun."

"A mistake is a mistake."

The image of hazelnuts was rapidly fading from her mind, leaving only a faint, bitter aftertaste. Fu Tailan whispered, "...Am I not a good target? Creating a dream that will make me fall into its depths, I think that would be very difficult, wouldn't it?"

The residents were quiet for a few seconds, then flew into a rage—when it was angry, it was like a dream that filled one with anger, extremely contagious; if one was not careful, even Fu Tailan would get angry along with it.

"You're awake, fine, but you still dare to look down on me! Your soul is empty, no one cares about you, you're full of scheming, you have no faith, nothing matters to you, what's the difference between you and a piece of dead flesh? I carefully wove such a beautiful dream for you, and you still take it for granted and become self-righteous!"

Fu Tailan had just rested the machine gun on his arm and shoulder, and the residents didn't even move, clearly showing no regard for it; now, the more it spoke, the angrier it became, and it gradually drifted away from his shoulder.

It has no physical form; no matter how many times you glance at it, your brain only has one perception—"a dream floating in the rain".

"If you were to weave a dream, with your empty soul, what nonsense could you possibly come up with? You woke up halfway through, what's there to be proud of? It's just because your life is pathetic. Don't give me that air of superiority."

As long as Fu Tailan is not affected by its emotions, she will not get angry because of its words.

Ultimately, these are all things he knows perfectly well.

"I shouldn't have come to you; you're not even a contestant."

The resident's tone suddenly changed. "I originally thought that even though you're not a competitor, as long as you fire a shot, you'll be of some use... This really shouldn't have surprised me. You were just a superfluous person to begin with, how could I expect you to be of any use?"

Fu Tailan remained silent for a while, involuntarily going over his words in her mind several times.

“The dream I just fell into was something you specially ‘wove,’” he whispered.

"What else do you think?"

Fu Tailan smiled silently, then suddenly turned her head, her gaze fixed on that dream in the pitch-black rainstorm.

"That means..."

Even though it had no physical form, it seemed to be truly fixed in place by his gaze, not only stopping its outward floating momentum but also unable to help but ask, "What are you talking about?"

"It's hard to trap me unless you deliberately weave a dream, right?"

Fu Tailan squinted, his gaze sinking deeper and deeper into the dream formed by the resident. His tone became increasingly like a murmur in his sleep: "...I've been watching you the whole time, so you don't have to worry about falling into the dream again, right?"

"What are you going to do?" The dream floated in the rain, as if it were gradually being separated by his gaze, revealing the material of the dream.

“Don’t be afraid,” Fu Tailan soothed her almost gently. “I just want to see what kind of dreams are hidden inside you.”

"what?"

The next second, the machine gun suddenly crashed heavily to the ground with a loud bang—before Meng could react, Fu Tailan had already reached out and grabbed it.

"Huh? Huh? Huh? How? How did you do that??????"

(End of this chapter)