Chapter 725: Shattered Judgement

The chaotic, almost dreamlike gibberish spilling from Lu Xin’s mouth sent shivers down the throats of both Number Eight and the Old Security Guard. They sensed an unprecedented disarray, watching Lu Xin so intently that they forgot their earlier bickering—and even the enforcers waiting outside the small building—as a raw, primal terror welled up from within.

Even Teacher Xiao Lu, lounging on the sofa, couldn’t help but be drawn to Lu Xin’s presence, her eyes weakly fluttering open.

That single word ‘sorrow’ from Lu Xin penetrated her ears and set her body trembling uncontrollably.

“You…”

The Old Security Guard, gripped by Lu Xin’s hold on the double-barreled shotgun, felt as if the weapon had taken on a life of its own, completely beyond his control.

Though he was convinced that he harbored no malice toward Lu Xin, and that they were on the same side,

he couldn’t shake off the sense of dread.

He wanted to ask or explain something, but the moment his first word broke the silence, he realized his voice trembled uncontrollably.

“What you’re discussing now is so boring…”

Lu Xin cradled the shotgun in one arm while casting a piercing glance over at them.

That look made both Number Eight and the Old Security Guard shudder—it was shrewd and razor-sharp, as if it could see into the depths of their souls. Yet it seemed strangely out of place on Lu Xin’s face. Only after the shock did they realize that his tone wasn’t the same as usual.

“Everything is clearly under someone else’s control, but you all scramble to shoulder this responsibility…”

Lu Xin smiled faintly, his tone laced with scorn and mockery as he first turned to Number Eight and whispered:

“Don’t you know how utterly ridiculous you really are?”

“And what about your boss—the so-called Sword Bearer?”

“He’s never been a judge. He’s just…”

As he spoke, he lifted his other hand and pointed to his own head, adding, “His executioner.”

“He thinks he can wield authority, not realizing that he was never meant to be the master.”

“…”

Even as he spoke, a sneer of contempt flickered in his eyes: “All of you enforcers have become a laughingstock.”

“After all, your so-called judgment derives not from justice, but from contamination.”

“Everyone believes they have the right to decide who’s right and wrong, yet in truth, it’s merely prejudice.”

“You evaluate, you criticize, you vent—but you never truly judge.”

“Because of this inherent nature, there are only two ways for you to successfully condemn someone.”

“…”

Clearly, at this moment a mocking smile played on Lu Xin’s face as he casually revealed the true nature of the Midnight Tribunal.

“One way is if your power is overwhelming enough to completely contaminate someone—seizing control of their mind, extracting their confession by force. Just as when you despise someone and have the strength to let your hatred and disgust run wild, erasing or wounding the one you deem wrong from this world.”

“…”

“The other way is if the other party confesses willingly, thereby inviting your contamination.”

“And because your judgment is, at its core, a form of contamination, once the contract is sealed, you cannot defy its outcome. It’s like your words inflict harm, striking directly at the tender spots in people’s hearts.”

“But the absurd part is that those who willingly confess are often the ones who still harbor a touch of kindness, who are easily wracked with guilt.”

“So…”

His smile suddenly turned laced with irony, “Are you bullying the honest ones?”

“…”

Lu Xin’s words flowed rapidly, his ever-present cold smirk piercing Number Eight like a needle.

Number Eight, who was already shrouded in confusion and pain—and now struck by the stark change in Lu Xin—felt an odd kind of terror. Yet when Lu Xin casually dismantled the nature of their judgment with surgical precision, anger flared within him—a furious reaction to his beliefs being challenged. He lifted his head fiercely and glared at Lu Xin, shouting, “No, what you said is all wrong…”

“We pursue fairness. We judge those who have evaded their sins…”

“Our job is to offer even the weakest souls in this world a final solace…”

“Someone must stand up in this world…”

“Otherwise, it will remain shrouded in eternal silence and darkness…”

“…”

“This world truly needs someone to stand up.”

A deeper contempt darkened Lu Xin’s expression as he coolly remarked, “But sadly, this world is too flawed.”

“The victims aren’t perfect to earn your flawless sympathy; neither are the perpetrators fit to bear your perfect wrath.”

“How can such an imperfect world accommodate your immaculate sense of justice?”

“According to your logic, judgment is nothing more than a mechanical act of contamination—there’s never been any true crime or virtue…”

“So your so-called pursuit of justice is just a means to harvest souls while indulging a petty superiority complex…”

“And you’re not even judging those who have escaped their sins.”

“You’re judging only those who are weaker or kind-hearted.”

His words grew sharper, slicing through Number Eight’s heart like a sword—scrutinizing every imperfection, much like how Teacher Xiao Lu had once exposed every dark secret of her past.

“Even you know deep down he isn’t the culprit behind the orphanage’s misfortunes.”

“If there must be a culprit, it’s the Old Director.”

“But you dare not confront the Old Director. You even convince yourself that he saved your life and revived many of the other children in the orphanage, thus making him less evil—so you can temporarily endure the hatred you feel for him.”

“You go and look for him first…”

As he spoke, Lu Xin raised his hand again, pointing to his head, “because he’s relatively weaker.”

“He may be weak, but he possesses the kind of power you envy. So you must judge him first and then seize his mental strength.”

“Only by taking his mental strength can you even think of judging that Old Director.”

“But what does that make it?”

“To execute one judgment in order to achieve another?”

“Do you see it?”

“Your judgment is anything but pure…”

“…”

“…”

The more Lu Xin spoke, the broader his smile grew, as though he were witnessing an unbelievably ludicrous joke:

“Even you understand, don’t you?”

“Chasing fairness to execute judgment, or pursuing judgment to achieve fairness—the outcomes are entirely different.”

“If you truly want to judge, then by a single, unified standard, impartially condemn everyone. That’s true fairness. But when you can only judge the weak, you inevitably let the powerful off the hook; you spare those who, though they’ve erred, never admit fault. Your idea of fairness gets tainted—it ceases to be fair…”

“…”

At this point, his face was awash with disdain and ridicule as he whispered the truth:

“A judgment that cannot condemn everyone is itself subject to judgment…”

“…”

“I…”

Number Eight’s face turned unnaturally pale as cold sweat trickled down in layers.

Every retort he longed to make was suffocated in his throat before it could even form.

Every word vanished into thin air just before leaving his lips.

He realized that voicing his objections was utterly futile—he couldn’t answer the questions raised by his opponent.

He had no idea who was speaking at that moment.

Yet it was clear that their understanding of power existed on a completely different plane than his.

……

……

Clack, clack, clack…

At that moment, the pair of eyes in the sky suddenly sharpened, and streaks of blood trailed down with the light.

Across Qinggang, immense waves of mental power began to ripple, and the glass on the windows of the Teaching Building developed fine cracks.

In the courtyard, groups of enforcers looked up toward those eyes in the sky; then, in unison, they raised their wrists and checked their watches. It seemed they all knew the countdown had long reached zero—but with some yet unjudged, they couldn’t wait for Number Eight upstairs, so they advanced together, the air around the Teaching Building rippling densely.

……

……

Upstairs, upon sensing the enforcers’ arrival, Lu Xin finally abandoned the torment of Number Eight, a mischievous smile crossing his features.

He then slowly turned and fixed his gaze on Teacher Xiao Lu.

When Teacher Xiao Lu caught Lu Xin’s look, she instinctively retreated. Many times before, she had remarked that the Lu Xin of today was not the same as the one she once knew, yet in her heart she believed he had always been Lu Xin—unchanged at his core…

But now, in this moment, she truly sensed that Lu Xin had become someone else.

A faint, fleeting blush spread across her face as she managed to stutter, “I understand…”

“I suppose I too should be judged…”

“I was never as kind-hearted as I pretended to be, and… I never should have accepted your endless gratitude…”

“…”

Listening to her, a smile slowly spread over Lu Xin’s face.

He murmured softly, “You did have your moments of mischief and temper back then, but I still owe you thanks…”

“For not forgetting to take him along when you fled…”

“…”

After a brief pause, his tone softened further, showing hints of his old self as he whispered, “But don’t blame yourself. Even if the goodness isn’t 100 percent, doing something kind still deserves gratitude.”

“Just as when you cause harm without malice, you must still face punishment.”

“…”

Gradually, his voice grew deeper and more natural; finally, with clear, steady eyes, he nodded and said softly:

“I no longer hold you in the same regard.”

“But I will never let anyone, not even you, judge you.”

“…”

As he spoke, he slowly advanced forward, his last words directed at the Old Security Guard:

“Go and plug those children’s ears.”

“They’re too young to witness such a gruesome scene…”