Soul Exchange Scale

Pain!

Unbearable, excruciating pain!

That was Tang Qi's first sensation upon regaining consciousness. Pain surged over him like a tide, pain that no means could avert, as if it were acting directly upon his soul. Its sources were his head, the wrists of both hands, and the ankles of both feet.

As he howled instinctively from the pain, aged, hoarse voices continuously drilled into his mind like the buzzing of flies. It was a convoluted, obscure language, yet strangely, Tang Qi understood every word.

"Great Demon of Judgment, please heed the call of your believer, Old Morgan. Grant this lowly believer's soul a young body. In return, I offer a fresh, young soul as a sacrifice. Please enjoy it to your heart's content, great Demon of Judgment..."

Demon of Judgment? Who was that?

Was this a prank? Hadn't I been drinking with my coworkers at a bar?

Had I been kidnapped?

Wait?

Was I hanging from a cross?

When Tang Qi realized this, the pain seemed to ease slightly. He finally stopped howling and forced his eyes open. His widening field of vision was first filled with shadows, then gradually cleared from a haze. At that moment, an extremely terrifying and bizarre scene entered his eyes.

Before him was a blurry black bubble of shadow. Judging from its extended boundaries, Tang Qi himself was inside the bubble. The source of this enormous black bubble was a huge, strange scale that seemed to be made of bronze and covered in mottled colors.

At either end of the scale, atop the bronze pans, floated a blurry glow. They both seemed to be... human-shaped?

That was right. Human-shaped.

Tang Qi's gaze pierced through the hazy light and saw their true forms.

On one end was an unconscious youth. He had delicate features, a pale complexion, and a thin build. He seemed to be having a nightmare, his face filled with terror.

On the other end was an extremely aged old man—a Black man. His skin was loose and dark, but he was awake. He knelt hunched over on the bronze pan, his hands held in a strange gesture as he muttered prayers, as though pleading for something.

And the direction of his prayers was precisely where Tang Qi was.

That was right. It was him.

Although the entire scale swayed back and forth, constantly changing direction amid creaking sounds, no matter how it shifted, the Old Black Man always faced Tang Qi as he prayed.

"Could it be... that Demon of Judgment is me?"

"Buzz."

The moment Tang Qi realized something and gathered his courage to look down, his already agonized mind exploded with pain, as if a massive hammer had smashed into his skull. Countless afterimages surged forth, and amid his howls, he finally saw his true predicament.

He really was bound to a cross—a very special cross.

At the center of the enormous scale, every part Tang Qi could see was engraved with blood-red skull patterns. They seemed like symbols, perhaps words, while a bizarre, terrifying aura drifted between those patterns.

When Tang Qi tried to twist his body to see more, pain more intense than anything before came flooding in. Its source was still his head, wrists, and ankles.

Amid another agonized howl, Tang Qi saw his own body. It too was wrapped in a hazy glow and hung upon the Skull Cross. Five sharp nails pierced through his skull, both wrists, and both ankles.

Tang Qi was terrified. He had suffered such injuries, yet he had not died?

"No, that's not right. I'm already dead. I'm in a soul state now."

"These two are souls too."

Tang Qi suddenly realized an incomparably horrifying fact. The terror already on his face became downright twisted. As a distorted soul howling upon a cross, he watched as the Old Black Man seemed to regard all of this as perfectly normal and prayed with even greater excitement.

At the same time, Tang Qi's gaze suddenly pierced through the black bubble, allowing him to see the scene outside: a study that looked spacious and luxurious, with massive bookshelves, a desk made of some sort of mahogany, an extravagant crystal chandelier overhead, and all sorts of exquisite little ornaments. Every detail proved the owner's wealth and taste.

But at that moment, everything was spoiled by the two "corpses" on the floor.

There was no blood, no mess, nor any sign of a struggle, but two corpses were indeed lying side by side on the ground.

One corpse belonged to a youth with black hair, delicate features, a pale complexion, and a thin, frail body. He wore well-fitted, meticulously tailored clothes in some unfamiliar foreign style.

The other was an elderly Black man with ordinary features and a gloomy air about him, dressed in what appeared to be a butler's uniform.

Around them stood burning candles the color of blood. Strange patterns had been drawn in white powder between them, and an ancient bronze scale rested directly above the space between their heads.

"What is this...?"

"Phew... huff..."

Calm down. I have to calm down. Tang Qi desperately held himself still and took several deep breaths, forcing himself to calm down.

After a long while, he finally said in a trembling voice, "So, I had some drinks, woke up, and transmigrated into a demon. My soul is hanging from some damn cross, and I've gotten mixed up in an obviously evil ritual. That Old Black Man who looks like an Old Butler seems to be the one who started this ritual. He prayed to me, asking me to give him a younger body, and he's even already found a target?"

Combining the Old Black Man's prayer with the scene before him, Tang Qi slowly deduced his true circumstances.

Yet he still could not move. He could not break free from the five nails. The slightest movement would plunge him into boundless agony.

Now, Tang Qi had two choices.

The first was to agree to the Old Black Man's request, help him change bodies, and complete this evil ritual. A vague premonition appeared in Tang Qi's mind: as long as he opened his mouth, he could devour the soul of the unconscious youth on the left side of the scale.

That was the process of completing the ritual. Once one side of the scale no longer had a soul, the other side would naturally sink and trigger some mechanism, allowing the Old Black Man's soul to enter the extremely young body below. He would transform from an aged Black man into a delicate young man.

Tang Qi's second choice was naturally to refuse the Old Black Man. He had no idea what the consequences of that option would be. Transmigrating into some inexplicable demon was bad enough. Wouldn't it be even worse if he could not even remain a demon?

"How should I choose?"

Suppressing the pain, Tang Qi laboriously swallowed saliva that did not exist and shifted his gaze away from that "sacrifice."

He was now a hungry demon, filled with longing for souls. Tang Qi could feel himself rapidly weakening. The five nails brought him more than mere pain. If this continued, he felt that he would soon dissipate completely.

But if he agreed to the Old Black Man, Tang Qi's best possible outcome would be to remain the so-called Demon of Judgment, attached to this scale and sealed away at the bottom of some box, waiting for the next customer to arrive.

Could he accept such an ending?

"No. I'd rather dissipate completely than become such a lowly, despicable demon."

"There must be another way. There has to be."

"Think. I can figure this out."

His intense desire to survive made Tang Qi's mind work as never before. Yet in his previous life, he had only been an ordinary urban office worker. He had only been a demon for mere moments. Faced with such a dead end, how could he possibly devise a path to survival in so little time?

And time was passing quickly.

One second!

Two seconds!

Three seconds!

Tang Qi's twisted soul grew fainter and fainter. The Old Black Man, who had been praying all this time, raised his head in surprise, seemingly wondering why his ritual had not worked. At this point, Tang Qi could see clearly that this Old Black Man was absolutely an evil existence.

That aged face was filled with gloom and cruelty. His blurry soul was packed with black Silk Thread, a murky and wicked man.

But what kind of being the Old Black Man was no longer seemed important. Tang Qi's head grew heavier and more muddled. He even felt that he had lost the strength to devour the sacrifice. Perhaps in the next second, he would dissipate.

Or fall asleep.

At that final moment, Tang Qi suddenly had an absurd thought. He wanted to see whether his current pose truly looked exactly like Jesus.

As soon as that thought surfaced, Tang Qi's view abruptly shifted. He actually saw his own blurry soul nailed to the cross in an awkward pose, truly looking exactly like Jesus.

"Hm?"

"This is...?"

Tang Qi suddenly froze. His eyes went vacant, as though he had seen something unbelievable.

Fortunately, he did not remain dazed for long. He quickly came back to his senses.

He stared intently at the strange interface that had appeared before him at some point.

Name: Tang Qi.

Status: Weak.

Class: Demon of Judgment.

Information Fragment One: As the Demon of Judgment, your duty is to place the sacrificer's soul into the target body after receiving the sacrifice.

Information Fragment Two: Before you render judgment, neither soul may leave. You may devour the sacrifice on the left, but unless the sacrificer on the right acts voluntarily, you cannot harm him.

Information Fragment Three: As the Demon of Judgment, once you leave the Soul Exchange Scale, your soul will dissipate within three seconds.

Information Fragment Three: If you choose not to render judgment this time, the sacrifice will automatically be absorbed by the scale, and you will fall into slumber.

"What is this? My Cheat System?"

As a veteran online novel enthusiast in his previous life, Tang Qi naturally knew the standard benefit of being reborn or transmigrated: some kind of Cheat System.

Tang Qi had thought that, having become a demon, he would not receive such treatment. He had not expected it to suddenly appear now.

"There's a chance. My only chance."

Tang Qi paid no attention to the rest of the interface. His gaze was entirely fixed upon the second and third Information Fragments.

Excitement flowed through him like a warm current, forcibly making Tang Qi's increasingly faint soul solidify somewhat. Borrowing that recovered strength, Tang Qi opened his mouth and spoke in a hoarse, low voice that even surprised himself.

"Lowly believer, your sacrifice... is not enough."

At that moment, Tang Qi's outward appearance was like that of a truly twisted demon. Howling and roaring, he spoke.