Chapter 729: Shattered Memories

As the sword—an artful yet impractical weapon—pierced through his body and memories, the strange and intense conflict within Lu Xin suddenly quieted, as though every hand desperately stretching his skin ceased its frantic struggle.

Countless swords embedded in him sent streams of blood cascading down their blades, pooling at his feet into a tiny river.

Within that stream, more black strands began to grow.

These strands crept over his body, sewing his lips shut and stitching his eyes closed.

Trapped in a memory prison, he was completely cut off from the outside world.

At that moment, his Mental Power unwittingly spread, gradually merging with Teacher Xiao Lu’s own.

That eerie, playful laughter and game-like chatter began to expand relentlessly, growing ever more tangible.

Throughout Qinggang Satellite City No. 2, everyone seemed to glimpse the silhouettes of children darting in the shadows.

They laughed with joy, as if bathed in sunlight.

Yet the happier they laughed, the more an oppressive guilt suffused the air.

That overwhelming guilt was enough to drown all reason and memory.

……

……

At the same time, Number Eight stood guard before Teacher Xiao Lu.

The black suit and white shirt he wore were stained red with blood, as if vast, blooming scarlet flowers had erupted.

His trembling hand clutched the Judgment Sword hidden within his suit, which quivered in sync.

It seemed to urge him to strike the girl before him, to end the trial swiftly.

Yet Number Eight merely held onto a suitcase, standing rooted in place.

Wounds blossomed across his face and forehead like cracks in porcelain.

“Why me?”

He murmured, his gaze vacant, “Why was I left behind?”

“Number Nine, Number Nine, weren’t you supposed to stop me?”

“Why didn’t you just kill me instead of leaving me here alone?”

“……”

His voice was filled with bewilderment as the torturous strain nearly drove him mad.

“Because he believes in you…”

A gentle voice whispered into Number Eight’s ear—a peculiar tremor of Mental Power that sounded like a woman’s lament:

“Though your stubborn anger might make him want to beat you up, and though he despises your tattle-telling, you are still his family. You grew up with him in the orphanage, the very family that gave him his earliest memories.”

“Number Eight, he hopes you can become like Xu Jing—truly free of this number…”

“……”

“……”

Hearing that voice, Number Eight’s body shuddered even more violently, tears welling up in his eyes.

Looking at Teacher Xiao Lu on the sofa, his emotions surged uncontrollably.

……

……

“Was my past really wrong?”

Lu Xin, imprisoned within his memories, stared blankly at his life.

He once believed he’d never fear judgment.

After all, he had been active, healthy, and striving—practically perfect.

Yet once the force of judgment took hold, he realized how utterly miserable his life truly was.

From the orphanage to the Business Company, and then from the company to being recruited by the Special Cleaning Department…

Was there anything in his past life he hadn’t regretted?

Oh, there was—so many regrets.

Every decision could have been better, every mistake less foolish. A careful review of each chapter of his life revealed countless moments worthy of deep shame, urging him to want to slaughter his past self.

Everyone faces an ultimate curse: wishing they hadn’t done that one thing…

Lu Xin watched every past version of himself.

He saw them impaled by the Silver Judgment Sword, their chests gushing blood as they stood silently before him.

He watched as each face twisted in pain or shame.

They lined up like a long dragon—tracing back to his earliest memory and stretching right before him.

In that moment, a single thought surged: to nullify all the past.

Driven by immense anger and shame, he began swinging one Judgment Sword after another.

He ruthlessly plunged each blade into every version of himself.

Only by killing his past selves could he erase the mistakes committed long ago.

Sword after sword pierced his body, imbued with hatred and denial for who he once was.

In his memories, he waged a slaughter.

He murdered every stage of his life.

Whether it was the self secretly playing Tetris at the company or the one discreetly pocketing red packets.

Whether he was the one bullied at work or the one desperately acting in front of Teacher Xiao Lu…

Finally, he passed through a long, blank void—the true missing piece of his memory—and returned to the beginning…

…the orphanage.

This was where it all began, and where the current pain of everyone had taken root.

Lu Xin loathed this place—and the person he was at that time.

So he stormed into the orphanage, clutching a Judgment Sword that had already ended many lives, reaching the end of his memories.

Or rather, the source.

There, he saw the very first person in his memory.

A little boy crouched in a pale laboratory corner, hugging his legs in silence.

He lifted his head, locking eyes with Lu Xin—bloody and wielding the Judgment Sword.

The boy’s eyes were startlingly clear, his expression unnervingly empty.

“Is this my earliest self?”

“Is this the little monster who killed everyone in the orphanage?”

“……”

A strange sensation enveloped Lu Xin.

Slowly, he raised the Judgment Sword, pointing it at the little boy huddled in the corner.

He knew that killing this earliest self would bring true relief—a genuine release.

Yet, for a sudden moment, Lu Xin hesitated.

It was his unwillingness to let go.

It was that very reluctance born of the grand illusion Teacher Xiao Lu had once exposed, the fatigue that made him resentful.

He stared at the little boy, his hand gripping the sword trembling slightly.

This boy was the source of his memories and the root of his sins—the origin of the orphanage’s tragedy and his painful life.

So, by eliminating him, everything would be resolved.

He would be utterly annihilated, and every past mistake erased.

From this moment on, there would be no more guilt.

When Lu Xin looked at the little boy, the child slowly lifted his head and stared silently back.

Shadows of various shapes materialized around them, illuminated by a piercing, ancient light.

He recalled the scenes of being observed in a vast, empty room.

The moments when he was strapped to an operating table and gradually dissected.

The times when, amid deafening noise and blinding light, they examined his emotional shifts.

And the countless moments by surgery tables where cries and struggles went unanswered.

Few have experienced such torment.

Facing his past selves, locked in mutual, wordless dialogue—a debate of their intertwined lives.

There were no words exchanged, yet countless opinions were silently traded.

Staring at the little boy huddled in the corner, Lu Xin was unsure whether to strike him down or…

……

……

“Bypass him. Carry out the judgment!”

At the same time, the executioners outside sensed Lu Xin swiftly retreating into himself.

They could feel the Judgment Power completely overwhelming him, as if polluting him from deep within. Countless black strands rapidly closed in on Lu Xin, altering his appearance and Mental Radiation bit by bit.

Even his clothes were on the verge of turning into the same black suit as his.

Just a little more, and the final, complete contamination would occur.

The birth of an executioner.

They dared not rush the process, nor were they able to speed it up. So they all made one unified choice.

Like a torrent, they flowed into Red Moon Elementary School, around Lu Xin’s body, and into the teaching building—or even directly through its walls. Like massive shadows, they gathered around the office.

“It’s time for judgment…”

“Xu Jing, complete your duty as an executioner…”

“……”

Different faces began to emerge from the walls beside the office.

They were reflected in the glass window.

They were born from Teacher Xiao Lu’s hallucinations, all silently staring at Number Eight.

Because he had accepted Teacher Xiao Lu’s accusation, the final key lay with him.

Yet, amid countless gazes, Number Eight stood in silence, his body trembling.

Until completely surrounded by executioners, he lost every ounce of choice.

His condition stabilized as he quietly set his Silver Suitcase on the ground.

He looked up at those cold faces and whispered, “I can’t carry out the execution.”

“Slash!”

Suddenly, the faces around him turned angry and chilling.

But Xu Jing, looking at them, remained more composed than ever and quietly said, “Because I feel she wasn’t wrong.”

“I cannot kill someone who willingly bears sin out of kindness.”

“……”

“You are an executioner of the Midnight Tribunal.”

Countless faces responded in unison, their voices like crashing waves: “What you must do is execute.”

“You cannot defy the Judgment Power…”

“……”

“I am an executioner of the Midnight Tribunal…”

Xu Jing slowly looked at each of those faces.

It was as if he were seeing not just their visages but something deeper.

He murmured, “But I, too, was raised in the orphanage, someone who once depended on her…”

As he spoke these words, he reached inside his suit and retrieved the exquisite Judgment Sword.

Then, glancing down with a hint of reluctance,

he gently tossed the sword to the floor and picked up a nearby vase.

He looked at the executioners with resolve.

At that moment, his hair was disheveled, his skin riddled with cracks, his white shirt dull and crumpled, and his appearance as if a thug were wielding a brick—his most humiliating moment ever.

Yet, his eyes shone brighter than ever.

……

……

“Clang…”

In the memory prison, facing the impassive little boy, the Judgment Sword fell from Lu Xin’s grasp.

He did not thrust the sword at the child cowering in the corner.

Instead, he slowly approached, crouched before him, and gently extended his arms to embrace him.

How could one blame a little boy who had been confined to experiments since childhood?

Even if that little boy was himself…

……

……

“Betray the Midnight Tribunal, and you betray fairness…”

“You too must be judged…”

An outburst of anger seemingly struck the hearts of the executioners, twisting their expressions.

The distorted airwaves around them began to peak layer after layer.

One by one, the executioners bypassed Lu Xin and walked into Red Moon Elementary School.

In the office on the third floor, Number Eight, holding a vase, displayed his ferocity towards the executioners.

Like a child who once only knew how to complain and get beaten, he had finally learned to fight.

At the school gate, Lu Xin stood motionless as the hands that once stretched his skin gradually vanished.

It was as if the conflicts in his memories had finally subsided.

Within the memory prison, holding the little boy in his arms, he began to reexamine his past self, pondering deeply.

One version after another appeared in the lab—some older, some younger—with bloodied bodies, some with hair in disarray like a bird’s nest, faces filled with confusion, some clutching an envelope—Chen Jing’s first Payment—and others standing silently by a window veiled in darkness, alone, gazing out.

Lu Xin’s heart suddenly began to tremble violently.

In truth, not a single version of himself had been slacking.

They had merely existed in the past, helping him endure the harshest times…

His earliest self, indifferent to everything, lacked the emotions he now cherished.

So how could he blame that detached, unfeeling self for merely observing the world?

The version of him who first entered the company, avoiding mistakes by mimicking others;

And how could he fault that rigid version, who only knew overtime?

Nor the self who, upon reuniting with Teacher Xiao Lu, had forgotten the past and smiled to greet her?

Every version of himself had shaped the one he was today…

So why reject the past?

Life isn’t meant to be regretted—just like complex calculations always yield one result. The current self was merely projected onto the past, and given the data of that time, he made the same choices.

It was perception, emotion, desire, understanding, instinct, and memory that determined everything.

Before accessing his Mental Core, he was nothing but a marionette controlled by that data.

Every past version of himself had helped him, ensnared in that tumultuous time, find his true self.

Contemplating this, a sense of relief slowly spread over Lu Xin’s face.

Yet even he couldn’t have foreseen that in this memory prison, as every version of himself prepared for reconciliation, in a corner of the lab the little boy he held—the very first him—suddenly wore an expression of surprised curiosity.

……

……

“Slash!”

When countless executioners surged into Red Moon Elementary School, charging toward the office on the third floor, Lu Xin abruptly woke up.

His eyes, once sewn shut, were forcibly opened amid their actions.

In the struggle, the black strands ripped his eyes apart, leaving a bloodied, fleshy mess.

Yet, within that gruesome blur of flesh, a strange radiance still emerged from his eyes. The inner void that had emptied after Teacher Xiao Lu’s deception now stirred with a subtle, bizarre emotion. Everything from the memory prison blurred away except one scene, which came into stark focus:

When he was very young, a future version of himself gently embraced his earliest self.

Maybe no one really cared about him…

But sometimes, the embrace one gives oneself is just as warm.

……

……

“Slash, slash, slash…”

At the same time, the executioners following Lu Xin and those who had been watching him all halted. They had assumed he would be completely contaminated and become one of them, but then something unexpected occurred.

The contamination process was smooth and inevitable—like poisoning someone and merely watching them drink the toxin.

Yet, unexpectedly, they discovered that he hadn’t died…

That was Lu Xin: despite suffering the most violent and total contamination, he opened his eyes instead.

Alive sparks shone in his gaze.

“You all…”

Amid the executioners’ view and overwhelmed by the force of judgment, Lu Xin began, slowly prying the black strands from his lips. His voice, though wavering, insisted, “You all want to judge and condemn me?”

“I refuse…”

“……”

The executioners abruptly halted at Lu Xin’s words.

Meanwhile, on a distant rooftop, Mom and Sister, watching Lu Xin, burst into passionate emotion.

Sister, unaware of what had transpired, felt an inexplicable excitement at the change within him.

Mom’s eyes glowed with light, as though the heavy burden in her heart had finally lightened, even bringing tears to her eyes.

……

……

With a note of uncertainty, Lu Xin’s body swayed slightly. His tone was detached—as if reciting a dispassionate statement—but that calm was the embodiment of his understanding and reconciliation with his past self:

“Even if my life began with a misunderstanding, it is still my life.”

“Maybe it’s riddled with flaws, but I won’t let others dictate it…”

“If you intend to judge me from a pedestal above the rules, then let me ask…”

“……”

At that moment, his voice sharpened from muffle to clarity.

The black strands on his body snapped away, vanishing completely.

The Judgment Sword embedded in him melted in an instant as if exposed to searing heat.

It transformed into droplets of fiery red juice, slowly trickling down to his feet…

Black shadows began to gather like a sullen night, interlaced with faint, excited laughter.

Lu Xin’s gaze shifted to each executioner before him, his voice taking on a taunting tone:

“Do you even have the right?”

“……”

“Hiss…”

At that moment, all the executioners stepped back simultaneously.

They lifted their hands in unison, pressing them against Lu Xin.

They could not accept what they saw. How could anyone possibly escape judgment?

Everyone in this world harbors dark secrets, and thus every soul has a reason to be judged.

Such is the might of the Judgment Power.

No one can escape judgment, least of all this man before them…

Under their Mental Power, layers of air ripples enveloped Lu Xin, as various judgment forces invaded every facet of his being, dredging up his darkest recesses and warping them.

But this time, they soon discovered that reality was not as they had imagined.

Under their influence, the scene before them twisted, distorted, and pulsed.

It was as if the lines were scrambled and reassembled—a cascade of flickering illusions paraded before their eyes.

Lu Xin allowed their Mental Power to work on him, yet his smile remained unchanged, even as the surroundings flashed erratically.

In one vision, Lu Xin stood at the school gate blocking them.

In another, behind him appeared a bizarre, decrepit building…

The air fell silent for a moment, then movement stirred within that old building.

Shattered windows were pushed open one by one, and in the dark room, pairs of eyes emerged.

Each executioner felt a chill as they sensed the strange Mental Power emanating from within, their hearts lurching as if lifted by an unseen hand. Their eyes fixated on those windows, hands trembling.

Gradually, they made out faces slowly emerging from the windows of that old building.

Every face was Lu Xin’s.

Some youthful, some aged; cold, some smiling; ferocious, others gentle…

Every face was Lu Xin’s, though the bodies varied wildly.

Some were set upon a spider-like body, others entwined with enormous octopus tentacles.

Some were mere patches of stitched-together flesh; others were lanky, nearly touching the ceiling.

Some were nothing more than fragments of tissue clinging to the ceiling, with only a head dangling.

All those faces smiled at the executioners.

When Lu Xin, standing before the building, spoke in a languid tone, they all echoed as one:

“Your so-called judgment is merely a process of unearthing every dark corner of a person’s soul and condemning them…”

“I choose to face the world with my kindest side…”

“Yet you only wish to question me…”

“……”

Suddenly, a smile spread across his face as he murmured, “Have you ever considered: if everyone were to reveal their true selves…”

“Who would break first—the world, or me?”