Chapter 76

Chapter 76

"I pledge to bear arms for the safety of humanity."

"I vow to judge each fellow with fairness."

"Though flawed, I remain righteous."

Boli recited these words slowly.

"This is the Oath of the Judicature," he said.

An Zhe was taken aback. He had heard the last phrase of this oath before.

After spitting out that blood, his body felt unexpectedly light, and his senses grew numb. The biting winter wind no longer made him shiver; instead, it brought a sense of ethereal emptiness, as if he might dissipate into the air at any moment. Supporting himself against the railing, he lowered his head to examine the badges.

On the hexagonal badges, an image was engraved: the symbol of the Judicature, two intersecting rhombus-shaped stars resembling compass points. The stars pointing north, south, west, and east were slightly larger, with the southern one elongated, forming a shape similar to a cross. The smaller ones, pointing northeast, southeast, southwest, and northwest, nestled beneath the main cross.

An Zhe had stared at these sharp, angular forms more than once. The dark silver material, the pointed star edges, and the straight lines all conveyed an awe-inspiring sense of solemnity and justice.

Boli traced the surface of the cross with his fingers, perhaps having sketched its shape more than once; the badge's design was worn with deep marks.

"Ink was put to paper by one of my colleagues," Boli spoke, gazing at the distant night sky amidst howling winds. "We hoped that the Cross would guide humanity in the right direction."

"You… aren't you a scientist from the Fusionist faction?" he asked softly.

"I am," Boli replied.

His tone was light, like a sigh. "I was the head of the Fusionists and also the founder of the Court of Judgement. The Fusionist faction was the precursor to the Court."

An Zhe suddenly recalled the long corridor in the Court of Judgement, where portraits and dates of birth and death of each successive judge were lined up. At the end, the frame had been removed, with names and dates scraped away, leaving only an indistinct letter "P". It was the record of the first judge, but for some reason, it had been erased by those who came after.

The Northern Base was a melting pot of different human races, and An Zhe wasn't sure which language Boli's name originated from. However, he could vaguely spell out "polly" using the phonetics.

But in his mind, the Fusionists and the Court of Judgement held vastly different beliefs. One aimed for humans and monsters to coexist safely, while the other mercilessly eradicated all fusion hybrids attempting to enter the base. They were worlds apart, leaving An Zhe unsure of where to begin questioning. Boli said, "It was an accidental occurrence."

An Zhe had heard many people recount the history of the base. Their calm narrations were like limited lights illuminating the corners of a dark room, allowing him to piece together the entire picture.

"The retention of consciousness after infection seemed to be a matter of chance. Yet, we still believed that everything in nature follows a pattern, though our abilities were limited, and we hadn't yet uncovered those patterns. Our research continued, delving deeper and deeper into that field, growing more and more frenzied." As he spoke, Boli slightly closed his eyes, a faint pain surfacing on his face. "One test subject, for inexplicable reasons, split into two halves, but maintained a unified consciousness. One half escaped the laboratory, while the other remained in the observation room. Because it appeared to be staying there, we didn't notice anything amiss promptly—the half that escaped caused an utterly devastating catastrophe."

An Zhe was aware of that calamity – a leech had contaminated the entire outer city's water source.

"Boli," he said, "the outer city was completely exposed. The base had to distinguish between hybrids and humans, eliminating the hybrids promptly. The Fusionists were the root cause of this disaster. Yet, it's us who are most familiar with the differences between monsters, hybrids, and humans through our research on infection and mutation."

In that instant, An Zhe grasped something. The Court of Judgement wasn't initially a military institution; it belonged to the Lighthouse.

"All experiments were suspended, samples destroyed, and test subjects terminated. However, the base still offered the Fusionists a chance at redemption. We established the Court of Judgement overnight, drafting detailed rules for judgment, and carried out trials across the entire city. In those ten days, we killed half the population of the base," Boli revealed slowly. "The infection was contained, and the purity of human genes was preserved. After that—the system of judgment continued. The catastrophic event that the Virginia Base faced only further validated its correctness."

"I was a Fusionist for ten years and a judge for four," Boli spoke in a slow, somber tone. A wry smile crept onto his face, but it seemed more like a silent cry of grief. "My original intention was to ensure a peaceful life for everyone, yet every day, I slaughtered my fellow humans. Each of these fourteen years has added to my burden of sin."

An Zhe defended him. "But you protected the base."

"No," Boli corrected. "I was slaughtering the innocent daily."

An Zhe argued on his behalf. "You established the rules, ensuring that judgments were carried out according to them. Innocent lives wouldn't be taken unjustly."

Boli's response was like a thunderbolt.

"There were no rules of judgment," he stated casually.

An Zhe's expression blanked for a second as he struggled to comprehend the words. He asked with difficulty, "Not... at all?"

"More accurately, there are no definitive criteria to identify an alien species with a hundred percent certainty," Boli's voice sounded like a sigh. "We established the judgment rules based on our lifelong research, examining them from all aspects – appearance, behavior, and thoughts. We determine their species through different reactions to external information, but it can't guarantee absolute accuracy. In fact, the rules only identify eighty percent of the alien species. The remaining twenty percent relies on experience, intuition, and... expanding the execution range, killing even if there's a chance of error rather than letting one slip by."

"The first and ironclad rule of the true judgment criteria is that under any circumstances, it must never be disclosed to the outside world. We don't strictly follow the criteria; the Court of Judgment leaves room for wrongful killings in the name of absolute safety." Boli's voice grew softer. "When I was stationed at the outer city gate, with each life I took, there was an eighty percent chance they were genuine alien species, and a twenty percent chance that I knew they might be human but still chose to shoot them out of caution. Among those eighty percent of alien species, there was a one in ten thousand chance they possessed human consciousness, and a six and a half in ten thousand chance they could regain their human consciousness years later."

His voice became hoarse. "I still find it hard to recall those four years."

An Zhe visualized such a scenario, imagining himself as a judge.

He said, "So, that's why you left the base?"

"I couldn't withstand the inner pain. In the war between humans and alien species, I failed to hold on till the end." Boli gazed at the night sky. After a long silence, he continued, "Initially, I suffered over killing my own kind, and then, even the deaths of the aliens became unbearable. I had spent too much time with them, knowing that every monster has its own life. My hands were stained with blood, making me a sinner. Later, I defected from the base with a few colleagues and joined the Highland Institute to continue the Fusionist research. We embraced alien species, and I've been atoning for my sins all my life. A hundred years have passed since then."

A hundred years.

An Zhe looked at Boli, slightly puzzled.

Seemingly understanding his confusion, Boli smiled. "I've lived too long."

"In the wilderness, infections are the most inevitable," Boli rolled up his sleeve, revealing a chaotic pattern of black markings on his right arm. "I was accidentally infected by a member of the research institute. Before I lost consciousness, I left them."

"But perhaps because the person who infected me was conscious, or maybe luck was on my side, I woke up." A smile tugged at Boli's lips as he continued, "I thought only a few seconds had passed, but in reality, decades had gone by. My consciousness seemed to have traversed time and space in an instant. Can you guess where I ended up?"

An Zhe shook his head.

"I was still in the research institute," Boli said. "They found me, even though I was an unconscious monster back then. They didn't give up on me. I had protected them before, so they protected me in return. That's how human emotions work — what you give is what you get. In this age, trust between humans is more precious than life itself, yet I received it."

Looking into Boli's gentle and serene eyes, An Zhe finally understood the deep bond that existed between Boli and the members of the research institute.

"I don't regret leaving the base back then," Boli concluded, "but I'll never forgive myself for my cowardice and incompetence."

An Zhe replied, "Because of your noble character."

Pausing for a moment, he added, "Because you are too merciful."

Boli's affection for every soul was the very reason for his agony. In times of peace, he would undoubtedly be someone who wouldn't even harm an ant—yet here he was, forced to point a gun at his own kin.

"Compassion... Compassion is the most prominent weakness of humanity," Boli said, "Compassion towards oneself is the beginning of selfish desires, and compassion towards others is the cause of wavering faith. I cannot be utterly indifferent and heartless, and thus I am destined to be an unqualified judge."

As the words faded, they fell into a long silence.

Contemplating Boli's words, An Zhe's brow furrowed slightly. He thought of someone.

"But a judge once told me," An Zhe said softly, "the source of a judge's conviction is not cold detachment, but mercy. Not for any single individual, but for the collective fate of humanity. If one holds an unwavering belief in the primacy of human interests, then there can be no wavering."

Boli gazed at him and softly asked, "But how does one hold such an unwavering belief?"

"How can one dedicate their life to the greater good of humanity," he enunciated slowly, "if they do not harbor mercy for every person?"

An Zhe was taken aback.

His fingers hanging at his sides trembled slightly. He finally understood why every time he faced Boli, he would always think of the utterly different Lu Fen.

Boli closed his eyes, his voice rough, "This is the origin of all the suffering for the Judges."

"Abandoning humanity, wantonly slaughtering the innocent, ultimately being executed by the base. Or maintaining clarity, only to succumb to unbearable pain and descend into madness — these are the two fates that await every Judge," Boli said slowly. "The moment the Details were finalized, their tragic ends were sealed."

An Zhe was unable to articulate his emotions in that instant. He found it hard to breathe, gazing at the cross-shaped badge in his hand.

"If… if there were a Judicator," he said, "one who had been vigilant for many years, guarding the city gates, and whose judgments were never wrong…"

Suddenly, he grasped something, his voice trembling. "No one could hate him more. Because while other Judicators might execute only dozens each year, he took thousands. In truth… it wasn't because he enjoyed pulling the trigger. It was because only by his hand could the risk of wrongful execution be minimized."

He understood now. He finally understood. A chill ran down his spine as he asked Boli, "What kind of person would he be?"

Boli's answer was simpler than he could have imagined.

"He's a solitary man," Boli replied.

Something crashed down within him, like a boulder rolling and battering An Zhe's heart.

He fell silent for a long time until Boli inquired, "What are you thinking?"

"I…" Mist formed before An Zhe's eyes. "I'm thinking… I'm thinking…"

He was thinking about Lu Fen.

Once, he had thought Lu Fen to be cold and unfeeling, and later acknowledged the man's unwavering conviction. He knew that Colonel Lu would dedicate his life for humanity's vague destiny. He knew that Lu Fen would suffer and feel loneliness, but it was not until this day that he truly comprehended the unimaginable, colossal entity that the man faced within himself.

He'd once claimed to understand Lu Fen, but it wasn't until this very moment – when they were separated by thousands of miles and would never meet again – that he truly comprehended him.

"Boli, I know who the Judge you mentioned is; Tang Lan has brought him up many times. If possible, I really wish I could meet him," Boli said.

"He..." Clutching the badge tightly in his palm, An Zhe's tears finally fell. "He was a Judge for seven years and killed many... Everyone hated him."

"But he was kind to me," he smiled, though his eyes burned and his nose reddened. "In truth, he was good to everyone."

"You called yourself a complete monster," Boli remarked. "As a Judge, I didn't find any difference between you and humans. What about that Judge?"

"He couldn't be sure." An Zhe's fingers trembled slightly as he gazed at the distant, rolling mountains. "The first time we met, he let me go."

"Sir," he said, "if the Arbiter lets an Other pass once, would they do so a second time?"

Boli simply looked at him with gentle eyes.

"He let me go a second time, and many times after that," An Zhe continued. "Eventually, he found out that I was an Other."

"But..." He wanted to say something, yet found himself unable to. It felt as if someone was gripping his heart tightly, trapping him in an inescapable bind. He yearned to break free, but it was impossible.

"I'm sorry..." He confirmed that he couldn't form a complete sentence. His voice trembled as he continued, "I... When I think of him, I... just want to cry."

Boli held him in his arms. "Don't cry, child."

"Live on," he said. "You'll meet him again."

"I won't meet him anymore," An Zhe clutched Boli's arm, as if grasping for the last straw amidst an emotional storm. He couldn't stop his tears from falling, so he could only close his eyes, trembling, and rest his forehead against Boli's shoulder. "I wish... I wish I had never met him."

"Why?"

An Zhe was unable to say anything.

"You can tell me anything here, child," Boli whispered softly. "You don't have to deceive me, nor do you have to deceive yourself."

An Zhe choked up, his sobs intensifying. He didn't understand human familial bonds, but in front of Boli, he seemed to grasp their essence. It was like facing a kind father, a loving priest, or a forgiving God. Kneeling in the temple of Jehovah, he could confess everything as any ordinary mortal would – but in reality, it wasn't to any other person or deity; it was to himself.

"I...," he opened his mouth, his entire body trembling from the intense pain. His mind was blank, yet he managed to break through his emotional barriers and blurt out, "I want to see him..."

"I want to see him." He repeated the phrase almost in despair, "I want to see him, sir, I really do. I don't regret leaving him, but I... I regret it so much."

"I know... I know." Boli patted his back gently, soothing him.

"You don't..." An Zhe contradicted himself. His emotions were torn apart, and sorrow engulfed his soul like an endless ocean. He wouldn't be surprised if the torment of his unrequited love eventually killed him.

"I've lived several decades more than you, child," Boli said. "You're still young and have much to learn."

"I..." An Zhe looked up blankly. He couldn't refute or argue; there was indeed something weighing heavily on his chest, intangible and indistinct, but he couldn't find the words to describe it.

His gaze drifted past Boli's shoulder, gazing at the boundless night sky. He murmured, "I don't know... what?"

Thump, thump.

In the brief silence, An Zhe heard his own heartbeat. He had a sudden premonition that Boli's next words might alter the course of his life.

He listened to Boli's breath.

"You don't know," Boli said softly in the stillness. "You love him."

An Zhe's eyes widened in surprise.

Across the sky, the aurora danced, its deep green hues resembling turbulent ocean waves sweeping from south to north, dissipating only to be reborn.

He trembled violently.

A profound intuition struck his soul like a meteor crashing into the earth, illuminating every corner of his world with brightness. He didn't truly understand the significance of those three words, but he knew, in his heart, that they were true.

He was utterly stunned, even forgetting his sorrow as he stared transfixed at the distant aurora. It wasn't until Boli released him and gently wiped away his tears with a handkerchief that he came back to himself.

"I don't understand why," he murmured.

Before he could receive an answer, another, more pressing question seized him.

"Does... Does he love me too?" He looked pleadingly at Boli. "Does he love me? I'm just... I'm a pariah."

"Did he say anything to you?"

An Zhe shook his head. Their time together had been frighteningly brief. "But he did kiss me," he said.

However, he was uncertain about the meaning behind that kiss. On that day, words had seemed so inadequate; they could only express themselves through actions.

"You're still alive," Boli said. "Did he let you go?"

"It was I who left him. He's always been a competent judge, and I knew he wouldn't let me off easily," An Zhe said slowly. "Back then, all I wanted was to leave him and find a place to end my life. But his gun ended up in my backpack, which is how I managed to return to the Abyss."

"His gun ended up in your backpack?" Boli echoed the statement.

An Zhe softly hummed in response. A hint of playful amusement gleamed in his eyes. "He likes leaving his things scattered around here."

Boli Joan's hand gently caressed his hair.

"You should know, silly child," Boli said, "that a Judicator never parts with their weapon. It's an unyielding rule that dates back a century."

An Zhe gazed steadily at him in silence. Finally, he clamped his lips tightly together.

"I don't know," he said. "I truly don't know."

"Regardless of the reason," Boli told him, "he must have loved you too."

"Would a Judicator ever love someone like me?"

"I don't know," Boli replied, "but I've lived alongside countless Others for a century too—if you still consider me fit to be a Judge."

Staring into those gray-blue eyes that seemed to hold all knowledge, An Zhe thought Boli must understand why Lu Fen liked him. However, he didn't dare to ask. If Boli didn't offer an explanation, there was certainly a reason behind it.

Vivid images flashed before his eyes: a widow in the city gates cursing him with a hoarse voice as she lost her husband; Du Sai falling forward after a bullet pierced through the back of her head at the supply station square. Countless silhouettes emerged, their desperate cries and trembling fears, along with the love that seeped deep into his bones. Dark figures rose, converging and stretching upward, fueled by love, hatred, mutual loathing, and fear. They pushed him to the peak of a howling, icy mountain, where he looked down upon the masses of living beings.

No one approached him, no one truly understood or loved him. Those who admired him would rather commission a false puppet with all they had than speak a single word to him.

As for... the mercy and favor of the Judges, it was something no one dared to even dream of. What kind of chilling terror and unimaginable honor was that?

He, an Other standing in stark opposition to humanity, secretly yearned for such a thing. And yet, he had once received it.

At least, for that brief second when Lu Fen placed the gun in his backpack, across billions of years, the Judge had left the pistol with an Other, betraying his lifelong conviction to love him.

Just like in the fairy tales in children's textbooks, when the clock struck twelve, some returned to the abyss, while others returned to the base.

Like a sandstorm gradually subsiding, with the tolling of the bell, the dust settled, and An Zhe's heartbeat returned to its ordinary rhythm. He had been granted an unimaginable gift, but instead, he found utter calmness.

He felt content, more than content.

"Should there come a day when humanity is safe," An Zhe said to Boli, "when you meet him, please… Please don't tell him that I was here."

Boli replied, "No one can lie to an Arbiter."

"Then say that I came and left," An Zhe said. "I've gone far away, possibly anywhere in this world."

Boli gazed at him with a tender and sorrowful look.

"I truly wish that God would bless you both," he said.

But An Zhe slowly shook his head.

"But I cannot love him, nor can he love me," An Zhe whispered softly.

"Unless—unless the day comes when mankind falls. But I hope that day never arrives." At that moment, a serene calm enveloped him.

Countless translucent white ice crystals emerged from the gaps between the aurora and clouds, drifting downward. The silent mountain and night scenery came alive with this flurry, as snow began to fall.

An Zhe stretched out his hand, and hexagonal snowflakes landed on his fingertips. Their beautiful shape melted away in the warmth of his skin, condensing into a translucent, sparkling droplet.

"I've only known you for three months," he said. "But that's my entire life."

The wind howled louder, carrying thousands of snowflakes into the gray corridor, like willow catkins swirling in the spring breeze. An Zhe looked up, and all that he had thought forgotten unfolded before his eyes, dissolving into shimmering fragments.

The tumultuous waves calmed, and the ebb and flow of hidden tides ceased. He felt neither sorrow nor joy; he simply found the snow beautiful.

His joys and sorrows, meetings and partings, were like the birth and death of all tangible things in this world – fleeting snowflakes that melted away in an instant.

"Are you cold?"

"No, I'm not anymore."

He etched the shape of that snowflake in his memory, and in that very second, he attained eternity.

The aurora illuminated the abyss.

Suddenly, the sound of shattering glass echoed from the laboratory.