Chapter 512 - 453: Mai Mingle’s Action Plan

Chapter 512: Chapter 453: Mai Mingle’s Action Plan

"Living Person’s Seat."

That was right. The small line of text was invisible from the side; you could only see it clearly by standing directly in front of the seat.

Mai Mingle wanted to reach out and wipe it to see if it was some kind of trick or illusion. After a moment’s hesitation, she didn’t dare touch it directly.

She took out her phone and used its corner to scrape back and forth across the words "Living Person’s Seat," which tickled the seat and made it giggle.

"How annoying. What are you doing, getting all handsy the moment we meet?"

The seat, which had just invited Mai Mingle to sit in its embrace, spoke in an overly deliberate, cloying tone. "So, are you satisfied with me now? I’m a ’Living Person’s Seat’ by nature. It can’t be changed, unlike that text label the man stuck on."

Mai Mingle straightened up without a word.

The main reason was, she had no idea what to say.

The line of text, "Living Person’s Seat," looked just like the words and patterns on the other priority seats, as if it were stitched into the fabric. If half her brain couldn’t clearly perceive one seat sitting on top of another, Mai Mingle would have assumed it was just an ordinary priority seat on the bus.

’Living Person’s Seat... A living person can sit there, and they’ll still be a living person after sitting down?’

’This really is the most logically safe priority seat so far, isn’t it?’

Thinking about the other priority seats on the bus, Mai Mingle didn’t even dare to sit in the "All-Natural Organic Priority Seat"—heaven knows if some part of this eighty-six-year-old body wouldn’t meet the "all-natural organic" standard—but at least she was fairly certain that she was, for the moment, a living person.

"There was a pregnant woman of the opposite meaning, so maybe there are priority seats of the opposite meaning too," Mai Mingle said tentatively. "Maybe you’re trying to trick me into sitting down, and you’re actually a ’Dead Person’s Seat’ or something..."

"Sigh. So full of suspicion and wariness," the Living Person’s Seat sighed. "Is it because you yourself often harm others that you’re so guarded?"

’How dare something from the Nest say that?’

"The pregnant woman of the opposite meaning, that was a bus stop, wasn’t it? Only those who boarded at that stop would carry the effect of the stop’s name. Look, we’re in the middle of our route right now, not near any stop. Where would I get an ’opposite meaning’ effect from?"

The Living Person’s Seat actually sounded quite reasonable when it started to explain things. "Besides, if you don’t believe me, why not just sit down and try it out?"

Even if she could barely accept it on a rational level, Mai Mingle would never be willing to sit down unless it was the absolute last resort.

"You wait," she instructed the chair. "I’ll think about it and come back in a bit."

The Living Person’s Seat "tsk"-ed.

’Will the words on it really not change?’

The thought of the words changing to something like "Nest Resident’s Seat" after she sat down made Mai Mingle’s heart feel like it had slipped on ice.

She walked over to the "Mobile Priority Seat" and carefully examined the label again.

’Does this thing really follow people?’

It was just a piece of A4 paper, torn in half, with jagged edges. The handwriting, which slanted across the page, looked like it had been written by the office worker himself with a thick permanent marker.

A piece of clear tape was stuck to the top of the label. Without even reaching out to tear it, you could tell it was already dangling precariously. But as Mai Mingle stared at it, mentally tearing it off countless times, it remained firmly stuck to the seat.

’Time to apply some external force, then?’

’What if the effect is canceled once the label falls off?’

Mai Mingle knew she was being a little too optimistic, but she still took out her phone, aimed for the tape, and gave it a few hard scrapes. Things in the Nest couldn’t defy gravity either. Sure enough, it fluttered down and landed limply on the seat.

Craning her neck to watch it, Mai Mingle slowly began to lower herself into an ordinary seat in the back row.

The text label didn’t move.

Mai Mingle bent her knees bit by bit, her bottom gradually nearing the seat. She gripped an armrest with one hand, her eyes never leaving the text label for a second.

When she was just a hair’s breadth from the seat, the text label seemed finally unable to resist the temptation. It suddenly sank into the seat cushion like a diver plunging into water, instantly "dissolving" halfway.

Mai Mingle whipped her head around. Just as she’d expected, half of the text label was already emerging from the seat behind her.

She leaped up. As she watched the half-sheet of A4 paper gradually emerge fully from the seatback, she could have sworn she saw a hint of disappointment in its movements. ’Must be my imagination, right?’

But regardless, the office worker hadn’t been lying.

As long as she tried to sit in an ordinary seat, the label would follow, turning it into an unusable priority seat.

’Aren’t the Nest’s traps supposed to have some semblance of fairness?’

’Why does everything on this bus seem designed to kill you, without offering any visible way out or chance of survival?’

Mai Mingle cursed under her breath. Filled with anxiety and frustration but with no solution in sight, she kicked the briefcase that the office worker had left blocking the aisle.

Something rolled out with a CLATTER, hitting the wall of the bus with a soft THUD.

Mai Mingle squatted down, her gaze passing over the jungle of feet beneath the unknown persons’ seats—feet branching into more feet, feet, feet, far too many feet, a number of feet that vastly outnumbered the passengers—

She quickly squeezed her eyes shut.

There were some things in the Nest that could invade and contaminate your mind just by looking at them.

The dense, branching jungle of feet under the seats was clearly one of them.

"What was that?"

One of the unknown persons on a seat grumbled. Amidst the dense web of layered feet beneath the seats, a few of them stirred with a RUSTLE, kicking the object. It rolled back into the aisle—it was a pen.

Mai Mingle immediately snatched it.

She looked at the pen, quickly stuffed it into her pocket, then picked up the light briefcase and opened every compartment. It was almost completely empty—almost.

She glanced at the half-torn sheet of A4 paper on the seat.

The office worker hadn’t lied. The contents of the briefcase really were a great help to her.

’The A4 paper was torn in half to make the "Mobile Priority Seat" label. So, logically, there should be another half, right?’

The Nest always adhered to logic in the strangest of ways.

However, Mai Mingle glanced back.

All the unknown persons were now seated, and Ashley was no longer pretending to be asleep. She sat with her arms crossed, staring silently at Mai Mingle. There was no telling how long she had been watching.

Mai Mingle couldn’t act with Ashley watching her, nor did she know how much Ashley understood about the situation. With no other choice, she let go, dropping the briefcase back onto the floor with a THWACK.

The Living Person’s Seat glanced down at the briefcase without a word, then looked forward again, pretending to be a real seat.

Even if Mai Mingle could get through this current trial, she still couldn’t resolve the biggest crisis: Ashley.

If she only played defense, constantly reacting and improvising, she would eventually reach her limit.

Whether on offense or defense, Mai Mingle was at a huge disadvantage compared to Ashley, who already had two fare points.

But she had to stop Ashley and ensure the latter would be completely cut off from the Nest Dominance Game.

A plan was already slowly taking shape in Mai Mingle’s mind.