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墨書 Inktalez
The morning sunlight streamed through the curtains, casting mottled shadows that danced across the floor, as if whispering some indescribable emotion.
Yet these shadows did nothing to dispel the gloom that lingered in my heart.
Last night’s conversation with the 741 Bureau felt like a silent yet violent storm, shattering my reason into fragments. It was a secretive and oppressive dialogue, where each word seemed to tear away the veils hiding my innermost feelings, exposing the emotions lurking in the corners of my mind.
“Ms. Lin, this ‘revenge plan’ has been completed,” the voice of Shadow was as calm as still water, devoid of any fluctuations.
I struggled to calm myself, but the image of Su Qing being taken away replayed in my mind like a haunting echo.
Her eyes were filled with terror and despair, her carefully applied makeup now a blurred mess from tears. The once formidable and confident “workplace elite,” who showed no mercy to others, now resembled a small beast stripped of its fur, trembling pitifully; even the word “miserable” felt inadequate to describe her state.
“Please! I beg you, let me go!” she screamed, attempting to struggle against the two men in black uniforms who held her down firmly.
She even knelt and pleaded for mercy, her cries hoarse and desperate, yet none showed her any compassion.
It was the first time I had seen her so humble and wretched, a stark contrast to her usual lofty demeanor. This scene should have brought me satisfaction, yet my heart felt hollow.
The revenge was successful.
But why did it feel as if something was blocking my chest?
---
Before parting, Shadow stood at the stairway and said to me, “Ms. Lin, you did well.”
His tone was as calm as if he were stating a fact, as if this were just another ordinary task. His indifference sent chills down my spine.
Yet, those words brought me no comfort.
I gazed at his expressionless face, trying to find a hint of humanity within it, but found nothing. That face was like an exquisite mask—devoid of warmth and emotion.
He turned and walked away, his steps brisk and cold, as if he had just finished dealing with a trivial matter. Meanwhile, I stood frozen in place, unable to move.
All night long, I lay in bed tossing and turning, my thoughts tangled like a ball of yarn shredded by a beast. The image of Su Qing kneeling and pleading replayed in my mind incessantly, her cries nearly piercing my eardrums. And that phrase from Ying—"You did well"—felt like an invisible shackle binding me, making it impossible to break free.
Is this what I wanted? Is this justice? Or is it merely revenge?
---
A few days later, I received a notification from Bureau 741.
The message was brief to the point of being cold: "Ms. Lin, Su Qing has been detained in 'Moral Judgment Prison.' You are eligible to observe her trial as an informed party."
Moral Judgment Prison—
Just the name sent shivers down my spine.
It was not a place accessible to ordinary people; it existed outside the legal systems of all nations, established specifically by Bureau 741 to imprison those who had evaded secular laws yet violated the fundamental boundaries of humanity. Rumor had it that everything here was built on the principle of "law without virtue cannot stand," and every prisoner would face the most severe and thorough judgment of their lives—a moral interrogation that penetrated the soul and struck at the essence of their being.
The 741 Bureau, an entity that exists like a ghost, wields power that ordinary people can scarcely touch. They navigate the gray areas of morality, executing their tasks with an almost absolute indifference and rationality. They do not rely on the law, nor do they adhere to procedures; they act solely based on a so-called "moral" compass. Such power fills me with fear and a lingering sense of unease.
As I stood before the heavy metal door, I found myself hesitating.
What lies behind this door?
What will this place be like?
Ying stood beside me, gently pressing the identification device. The door emitted a low mechanical sound and slowly creaked open. A rush of cold air hit me, mixed with an indescribable sense of oppression that made my nerves tense involuntarily.
The corridor stretched endlessly, its walls smooth and silver-gray, devoid of any decorations or signs. Only the fluorescent lights overhead flickered with a cold white glow, illuminating the space as brightly as day while exuding a suffocating chill.
Ying walked ahead without looking back, his voice steady and calm as he said, "Ms. Lin, please follow me."
We finally stopped in front of a pure white room.
There were no windows, no clocks, and nothing to evoke warmth; even the air seemed to carry a sterile, antiseptic smell of cold indifference. In the center of the room sat a solitary chair, where Su Qing was waiting.
Her head hung low, her face pale as paper. Her hands gripped the armrests tightly, her knuckles protruding from the strain. It seemed she sensed someone approaching and slowly lifted her head—
The moment she saw me, her entire body jolted as despair and pleading filled her gaze.
"Lin, Wei... Weiwei..." Her voice trembled and was hoarse, as if laced with tears, but I merely stared at her coldly, offering no response.
At that moment, a deep and authoritative voice suddenly resonated from all directions:
"Su Qing, do you know your crimes?"
The voice seemed to emanate from the very fabric of the space around us, penetrating deep into one's mind, leaving no room for resistance or escape.
Su Qing shook her head violently. "No... no, I don't know..."
She attempted to mask her inner turmoil with panic, but the tremor in her voice had already betrayed her true fear. No one responded to her; no one came to her defense.
Suddenly, countless screens illuminated the surroundings, each displaying the "masterpieces" of Su Qing's life.
Stealing my life, framing the innocent, participating in illegal transactions...
Each scene was as vivid as if it had happened just yesterday—there was nowhere to hide!
It particularly highlighted how she had originally been destined for a lowly fate, dying from AIDS, only to encounter a sorcerer who took her as a godmother and taught her methods of stealing life. She had taken away the destiny that rightfully belonged to me. I could have made significant contributions to the country, yet because of her, I had sunk into a quagmire of despair!
What was even more terrifying was that these images were not merely for spectators; they directly affected the prisoners' minds, forcing them to experience firsthand all the crimes they had committed and the suffering endured by their victims!
Su Qing began to scream. She tried to cover her eyes, but those images had already etched themselves deeply into her consciousness—there was nowhere left to escape!
"Enough! Enough! Please, let me go!"
She cried out with a heart-wrenching scream, using every ounce of strength to struggle, but no one responded, and no one stopped this ordeal. This was a moral judgment, not meant for punishment, but to make the sinner truly aware of her mistakes and pay the price for them!
---
When the judgment ended, Su Qing had collapsed on the ground, trembling uncontrollably like a dying little beast, helpless and despairing.
She tried to get up but found her body completely unresponsive, leaving her limp on the ground with eyes that were hollow and devoid of any life. I stood at a distance, coldly observing it all, feeling neither sympathy nor satisfaction.
In that moment, I finally understood—
Revenge was never about bringing oneself joy; it was about ensuring that evil received its due reckoning!
---
A few days later, I resigned from my job and left the city.
I needed time and space to regain my balance—or rather, to find my true self again.
Sitting on the minibus heading to the mountain village, I watched as the towering buildings gradually faded from view. For the first time, I felt an unprecedented sense of relief.
Here, there was no clamor or deceit; only blue skies and white clouds, along with endless fields of rice.
When the car came to a stop, a girl with braids ran over and grabbed my hand. She looked up at me with her bright, clear eyes and said, "Teacher, you’re new here, right?"
"Yes," I replied, squatting down to gently ruffle her little head. "From now on, I’ll be teaching you how to paint rainbows. How does that sound?"
The little girl burst into a fit of giggles, her laughter ringing out like wind chimes, making it impossible not to smile along with her.
---
Time flew by quickly; each day was busy yet fulfilling.
The village children loved to gather around me, handing me their crooked yet innocent drawings with their tiny hands. The elders would take my hand at dusk and chat about everyday life, sharing stories of the past that helped me understand the truest form of existence.
Gradually, I realized I had changed—from a cold, rational corporate elite to someone willing to humble myself for these children and elders. I found myself beginning to enjoy this simple and pure way of life.
---
One night, as stars filled the sky, I sat alone in the courtyard, lost in thought as I gazed at the bright moon.
Suddenly, the System Interface appeared before my eyes, its golden digits flashing "100%." But this time, I didn’t question it or delve into the secrets behind it… Because at that moment, I finally understood its purpose—it wasn’t there to ensure my revenge was successful or to make me a stronger person; it was there to help me find my own path to redemption! This number wasn’t about victory; it was about reconciliation—with the past, with others, and with myself!
---
At that instant, a soft and warm light emanated from the System Interface, slowly enveloping my entire being. My heart settled into an unprecedented calmness, as if cradled in a gentle embrace from my mother—safe and warm.
Then it vanished, never to appear again.
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