mantra

It's been over two months since we increased the surveillance on her, yet the target has only interacted with non-infected.

It's very easy to make a marginalized person living in the slums with no family or friends disappear. It is hard to use said person to lure out the Infected.

We only need one...

And I can finish the job.

Hello. Do you read me?

I'm here.

The new visitor who arrived at the target's apartment around 12:40 is a noble who traveled here from Deity Grypherburg.

She entered the building wearing a disguise and left at about the same time that's you recorded in your log.

Your deductions were correct; she used sign language the entire time. I have transcribed and translated the conversation. You can go to the records room to get a copy of the transcript.

You aren't the one who was talking to me this morning.

I don't know what you mean. I'm the one who is talking to you now.

Is there anything else I need to know?

Not at the moment.

Roger. I'll be online.

The visitor has her back to the surveillance team and is wearing a hat.

(Sign language)

Here, the target says, 'Please remove your hat. It's safe here.'

The visitor turns around, surveys the room, and removes the hat. The visitor and the target, move to a different place, giving the surveillance team a clearer view of their movements.

(Sign language)

The visitor says, 'I can't take it anymore.'

The rest of the transcript contains only translated sign language, verbatim.

I can't take it anymore!

There are eyes everywhere! They're always watching me!

I have no place where I can rest. Even when I lie down next to my husband at night, I just lay there, eyes open, until the sun comes up!

I have no idea who's been sending wave after wave of their minions here. The new butler even knows the name of my favorite childhood cloudbeast!

Even the panhandlers know where I go and what I like. It's so creepy!

That butler... perhaps it's his job to know those sorts of details.

Easy for you to say. You will never understand what it feels like to be constantly watched.

At least we are safe for the time being, ****.

The visitor's name has been redacted.

You can tell me how you're feeling, and I'll hear you out.

How do you know my name?!

Your husband told me. He thinks I'll be able to calm your mind, so you won't be so anxious all the time, so you won't feel like there are hidden eyes and ears trained on you at every moment.

I will not speak. I will not say a word to anyone, no matter who.

That's just how I feel about this country. I cannot trust anyone here, including him, including you.

So I think we should just continue 'communicating' like this.

The visitor then starts complaining about the omnipresent surveillance, the war, and the plight of the poor. During this exchange, the target soothes the visitor, offering some comfort, before politely sending them on their way.

Are you still there?

It appears that the target is still asleep. What do you need?

I forgot to record the first visitor who arrived at the apartment today. Do you remember who it was?

Visitor 05; arrived at 3:11 AM. Any other questions?

No. Thanks.

3:11, not 3:10. His info was sourced from my records, not his predecessor's.

One minute... a problem... or a sigh.

I hope I'm overthinking this. I need to quickly obtain definitive proof that the target has come into contact with an Infected, or...

...At least produce some tangible results.

Madam?

(Shakes head)

I just heard...

I'm in position.

Roger that.

You're ten minutes late.

I have a legitimate reason. I had to go to the thirteenth floor to turn in a report. When I came back out to the elevator, it was under maintenance. I had to take the stairs.

Hmph. That old elevator is always under maintenance.

So, have you found anything?

I submitted a full report on our surveillance of the target. I included a copy of the log from Visitor 97's visit.

The Visitor 97 thing was all thanks to you.

You're going to snitch on that noble already? You really are impatient.

All we do is to preserve the honor and purity of Ursus.

—Right. For Ursus.

For Ursus.

What I do not tell him is, as long as the higher-ups on the thirteenth floor are willing to take five minutes to review the report, they'll all come to the same conclusion...

The same conclusion reached by each and every individual that has served in my position:

The target poses no danger, so we can reduce both her threat level and her surveillance level.

If they really can't figure it out, so be it. At least my report on the venerable Visitor 97 will give me a tangible result to show for my recent work.

It might buy me some more time.... maybe.

The target is alone. Visitor 05 left an hour ago.

There are no footsteps, nor sounds of the door opening or closing. However, without warning, humming sounds, of various frequencies, begin to resonate continuously throughout the room.

I'm not sure what I'm hearing.

What's that?

Uhh... what's that noise...?

Bzzz... bzzz...

(Noise)

Hey!

Damn! Lost connection!

The sound comes and goes, intermittently.

She might be sending some sort of signal. I'll use the spectrum analyzer!

I'll use this microphone, right. I've gotta convert it into an electronic signal. There's the receiver—

Now, to analyze the code!

Aha. It's a military identification code.

I must decipher this message before the noise stops. I have to do it!

'Sul...li...van'

A name, huh? One of the Infected, maybe?

I'm so tired that I don't even realize that it's also MY name...

Until...

'You're also...'

'...being...'

'Sullivan, you're also being listened to.'

The sentence hits my mind like a lightning bolt. It arrives without warning, as if—

As if someone is right here, speaking to me.

The one who is listening in on others... is also being listened to.

Words cannot describe how I feel when that thought dawns on me. That damned thing isn't important. What's important is that—

The sound stops. The speaker returns to dead silence.

I think about the elevator 'under maintenance,' and how there were more Gendarmerie than normal at the entrance to the stairwell.

This is just the worst kind of horror story.

Shit.... shit, shit, shit!!!

Deserter—

—surround him—

Take him down, and then send the second team to catch that damned doctor.

Move out.