For the first time, the student council's underground sealing chamber was truly full.
The barrier was fully activated, with runes flickering on the walls like heartbeats.
The air was stifling, as if someone were watching you, though it wasn't cold.
Bai Ya stood in the center of the formation, her coat tossed aside and her arms covered in dense markings from old seals.
These weren't decorations; they were proof of having lived, died, and been suppressed again.
Li stood opposite her.
This time, he wasn't a witness.
Nor was he a judge.
He was the medium.
"First, let's make the rules clear." Bai Ya's tone was steady, but his eyes were icy cold.
"Once the resonance begins, what you see won't be 'clues,' but rather, fragments of the truth.
You cannot judge, interfere, or save anyone."
Li nodded.
"What if I can't help myself?"
Bai Ya looked at him and said calmly,
"Then you will become part of the false judgment."
The air instantly grew tense.
The ritual began.
The runes lit up like countless eyes opening simultaneously.
Li's sin seal began to burn.
It wasn't pain, but rather the sensation of being pulled away.
The next second, the world flipped.
When Li opened his eyes, he was no longer in the sealing chamber.
He was standing in a shattered version of a school campus. The classrooms were empty, the hallways were crooked, and the playground looked as if it had been squeezed.
Bai Ya stood beside him, but her outline was blurry and unreal.
"This isn't now," she said.
"It's the 'memory layer' recorded by the rift."
Ahead of them was something familiar yet strange—the sealing rift.
But it wasn't underground.
It wasn't in the sealing chamber either.
It wasn't even in "space."
It was a giant black line piercing the chests of countless students.
Li's breath hitched.
"What is this?"
Bai Ya answered in a deep voice:
"A corner of the truth."
The scene begins to zoom in.
Li sees a student sitting alone in his room one night. The screen displays the "Judgment Game" forum.
Emotional breakdown, guilt, jealousy, fear.
Then—
A black line gently touches his soul.
No violence.
No intrusion.
It was permitted.
Li suddenly realizes something.
"Wasn't the crack torn open?"
Bai Ya nodded, his tone as cold as a verdict.
"It was invited."
The scene continues.
Every student affected by the fake trial
at some point, longed to be judged.
They wanted to be understood.
They wanted to be forgiven.
They wanted someone to tell them, "You're not entirely wrong."
The crack isn't the entrance.
The crack is the structure of accomplices.
The resonance suddenly spiraled out of control.
Li's vision shifted to a different angle.
He saw another version of himself.
He was standing high above with an open eye of judgment.
He was expressionless, judging countless souls.
That "Li" showed no hesitation.
No confusion.
Only efficiency.
The voice of a white raven echoed in the distance:
"That's not the future.
"That's what you'll become if you abandon your humanity right now."
Li's throat tightened.
For the first time, he clearly understood that the fake judgment wasn't imitating him.
It assumed he would eventually reach that point.
The Sin Seal throbbed violently.
Bai Ya's expression changed, and he immediately broke the formation with a backhand strike.
The world shattered.
Li suddenly dropped to his knees on the floor of the sealing chamber, gasping for breath as if he had just been pulled from the water.
Bai Ya pressed down on his shoulder and whispered:
"Enough."
Silence.
After a long while, Li spoke in a hoarse voice:
"The core of the seal..."
Bai Ya continued calmly and cruelly:
"It's not underground."
"Not a ritual."
It is the collective souls of the students."
Li closed his eyes.
He finally understood why the trial had spiraled out of control.
This was not a battle.
It was a plague of choice.
One by one, the lights in the sealing chamber went out.
They weren't broken, but they dared not turn them on.
Li sat on the floor with her back against the cold wall. Although her breathing had long since become steady, her heartbeat wouldn't slow down.
The images she had just seen hadn't disappeared.
—they had merely retreated to the deepest layer of her consciousness, waiting to surface again.
Bai Ya stood not far away, erasing the runes one by one.
Her hands were steady, but Li could tell she was more tense than ever.
"You're still in resonance."
She didn't turn around, speaking directly to Li.
Li chuckled softly.
"Yes.
"The world seems to have gained another layer of filter."
When Li stood up, the world changed.
Not the scenery, but the density of information.
As students passed by in the corridor, he saw a faint shadow lingering around each one.
like a delayed soul, a beat behind the body.
Some were laughing, but their shadows were huddled up.
Some looked down at their phones; their shadows trembled.
Li subconsciously closed his eyes for a moment.
When he opened them again, the shadows were still there.
The resonance hadn't ended.
It had merely left him with a license.
Bai Ya finally turned around, saw his expression, and his eyes instantly turned cold.
"What you're seeing now isn't the ability.
It's the side effect."
The two stepped out of the sealed chamber as the barrier slowly closed behind them.
Bai Ya lowered her voice.
"What you just touched wasn't just a crack.
It was the very foundation of the entire 'Judgment Structure.'"
She stopped and looked directly at Li.
"From now on, whenever you use the Eye of Judgment,
You'll be watched by that system."
Li was startled.
"Watched?"
"It records whom you judge and how you judge."
If you waver, it amplifies it.
"If you're indifferent, it mimics you."
Her words were cold but not threatening.
They were facts.
Li suddenly realized that the reason the fake Judgment was becoming more and more like him
—wasn't because the imitation was good.
It was because it was constantly observing his changes.
Suddenly, a student collapsed around the corner.
A commotion erupted in the surrounding crowd.
However, the student's shadow was unusually clear. On the surface of his soul floated an unfinished "mark of judgment."
If Li wished,
, he could complete the judgment right then and there.
Highest efficiency.
Lowest risk.
It was also the most "correct" choice.
The mark of sin warmed slightly, as if urging him on.
Li stood still, his hand slowly tightening.
"No."
This time, he didn't open his eyes.
The student was taken away by medical personnel.
His shadow slowly faded around the corner of the corridor.
Bai Ya glanced at Li, but didn't speak.
She knew very well—
This wasn't kindness.
It was the first time Li had actively refused to "become a judge."
That night, an anonymous post appeared on the academy's Dark Web.
"Has anyone noticed that the judge didn't pronounce judgment?"
Replies quickly appeared:
"Is he afraid too?"
"Then do we still need him?"
"If he won't pronounce judgment, we can just do it."
When Li saw that comment, the light from the screen reflected in his eyes.
He finally understood—the fake judgment didn't truly want to replace him.
It wanted to force him into the only position:
Either he would pronounce judgment on everyone,
Or lose everyone.
There was no middle ground.