Soul Exchange Scale

Pain!

Unbearable, excruciating pain!

This was the first sensation Tang Qi felt upon regaining consciousness. It surged like a tidal wave—a type of agony that no amount of effort could avoid, as if it were acting directly upon his soul. The sources of this torment were his head, his wrists, and his ankles.

As he instinctively wailed from the agony, a series of aged, hoarse voices buzzed into his mind like the drone of flies. It was a convoluted, obscure language, yet, eerily, Tang Qi understood every word.

"O Great Demon of Judgment, please heed the call of your believer, Old Morgan. Replace the soul of your humble servant with a youthful body. For this, I am willing to offer a fresh, young soul as a sacrifice. Please, Great Demon of Judgment, enjoy it to your heart's content..."

Demon of Judgment? Who?

Is this a prank? Wasn't I just drinking with my colleagues at the bar?

Could I have been kidnapped?

Wait?

Am I being hung on a cross?

As Tang Qi realized this, the pain seemed to dull slightly. He finally stopped his wailing and, with immense effort, forced his eyes open. His expanding field of vision was initially filled with shadows, then shifted from hazy to clear. And then, a scene of extreme terror and horror reflected in his eyes.

Before him was a hazy, black shadow bubble. Judging by the boundaries extending from the bubble, Tang Qi himself was inside it. Releasing this massive black bubble was a giant, strange scale, seemingly made of bronze and covered in mottled colors.

On the bronze pans at either end of the scale, there was a hazy glow. They both seemed to be... human-shaped?

That's right, human-shaped.

Tang Qi's gaze pierced through the hazy light, seeing their true forms.

On one end was a young boy in a state of unconsciousness. His features were delicate, his complexion pale, and his build thin. He seemed to be having a nightmare, his face twisted in terror.

On the other end was an incredibly aged old man, a black man with loose, dark skin. He was conscious, hunched over on the bronze pan, his hands arranged in a strange posture. He was muttering, seemingly praying and pleading.

And the direction of his prayer was exactly where Tang Qi was.

That's right, it was him.

Although the entire scale was in a wobbling state, shifting directions with a "creaking" sound, no matter how it moved, the old black man always faced Tang Qi while praying.

"Could it be... that I am the Demon of Judgment?"

"Hum."

The moment Tang Qi realized this and mustered the courage to look down, his already throbbing brain felt as if it had been struck by a heavy hammer. Countless double images surged forth, and amidst his wailing, he finally saw his true situation clearly.

He was indeed bound to a cross—a very peculiar cross.

Right in the center of this massive scale, every part Tang Qi looked down at was engraved with blood-red skull patterns. They seemed to be symbols, or perhaps text, and a strange, terrifying aura drifted between these markings.

When Tang Qi tried to twist his body to see more, a pain more intense than any before surged wildly. The source remained his head, wrists, and ankles.

In another wail of agony, Tang Qi saw his own body clearly. It was also wrapped in a layer of hazy light, hung upon the Skull Cross. Five sharp nails in total pierced his head, his wrists, and his ankles.

Tang Qi was terrified. He had suffered such injuries—how was he not dead?

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

"These two are also souls."

Tang Qi suddenly realized a terrifying fact, and the look of horror on his face turned into a grimace. A twisted soul wailing on a cross, while the old black man witnessing it all seemed to think this was normal, praying even more excitedly.

At the same time, Tang Qi's gaze suddenly pierced through the black bubble and saw the scene outside: a spacious and luxurious study. A massive bookcase, a desk made of some kind of mahogany, a luxurious crystal chandelier overhead, and various exquisite trinkets all served as proof of the owner's wealth and taste.

But at this moment, the room was ruined by two "corpses" on the floor.

There was no blood, nor any signs of a struggle or fight, but two corpses were indeed lying side by side on the floor.

One corpse was a young boy with black hair, delicate features, a pale complexion, and a thin frame, dressed in well-tailored clothing with an exotic style never seen before.

The other was an elderly black man with ordinary features and a gloomy temperament, wearing what appeared to be a butler's uniform.

Surrounding the two were burning candles with the color of fresh blood, and a strange pattern had been drawn between them with white powder. In the center, above their heads, sat the ancient bronze scale.

"This is...?"

"Hoo... hoo..."

Stay calm, I must stay calm. Forcing himself to endure the urge to move, Tang Qi took a few deep breaths, compelling himself to remain composed.

After a long while, he muttered tremblingly: "So, I went out for a drink, woke up, and transmigrated into a demon, only to have my soul hung on a damn cross and dragged into an obviously evil ritual. That old black man who looks like a butler seems to be the initiator of this ritual. He's praying to me, asking me to help him swap into a younger body, and he's even already picked out the target?"

Combining the old black man's prayer with the scene before him, Tang Qi slowly deduced his true situation.

However, he still couldn't move. He couldn't break free from those five nails; any movement would plunge him into boundless agony.

Now, Tang Qi had two choices.

The first was to agree to the old black man, help him swap bodies, and complete this evil ritual. A premonition echoed in Tang Qi's mind: as long as he opened his mouth, he could devour the soul of the unconscious boy on the left side of the scale.

This was the process of completing the ritual. Once one side of the scale lost its soul, the other would naturally sink, triggering a mechanism that would allow the old black man's soul to enter the young body below, transforming from an aged black man into a delicate youth in an instant.

Tang Qi's second choice was, naturally, to refuse the old black man. The consequence of this option was something Tang Qi had no idea about. What would happen after a refusal? Transmigrating into some unknown demon was one thing, but if he couldn't even manage to be a demon, wouldn't that be even worse?

"How do I choose?"

While suppressing the pain, Tang Qi swallowed his non-existent saliva with difficulty and shifted his gaze away from the "sacrifice."

He was now a starving demon, filled with a craving for souls. Tang Qi could feel that he was rapidly weakening. The five nails brought more than just pain; if this continued, Tang Qi felt he would soon dissipate entirely.

Yet if Tang Qi agreed to the Old Black Man, his best outcome would be to continue as the so-called Demon of Judgment, attached to this scale, pressed to the bottom of a box, waiting for the next customer to arrive.

Could he accept such an end?

"No, I would rather dissipate completely than become such a lowly, base devil."

"There must be a way, there has to be a way."

"Think, I can think of something."

A desperate will to survive made Tang Qi's mind race like never before, yet in his past life, he was merely an ordinary white-collar worker, and he had only been a devil for a few moments; faced with such a dead end, how could he possibly devise a path to survival in such a short time?

And time was slipping away rapidly.

One second!

Two seconds!

Three seconds!

Tang Qi's distorted soul grew thinner and thinner. The Old Black Man, who had been praying, looked up in astonishment, seemingly puzzled as to why his ritual had not taken effect. At this moment, Tang Qi saw clearly that this Old Black Man was absolutely an evil existence.

That aged face was full of gloom and cruelty, and within his hazy soul were countless black Silk Threads—he was a corrupt, wicked man.

However, what kind of existence the Old Black Man was no longer seemed important. Tang Qi's head felt heavier and heavier, more and more muddled; he even felt he had lost the strength to consume the offering, and perhaps in the Next Second, he would dissipate.

Or, fall into an eternal slumber.

In this final moment, Tang Qi suddenly had an absurd thought: he wanted to see if his current posture was truly identical to Jesus.

When this thought emerged, Tang Qi's vision suddenly shifted, and he actually saw his own hazy soul in an awkward posture, nailed to a cross, truly identical to Jesus.

"Hm?"

"This is...?"

Tang Qi suddenly froze, his eyes dull, as if he had seen something incredible.

Fortunately, at this juncture, he did not daze for long and quickly regained his senses.

He looked intently In Front Of him at a strange interface that had appeared out of nowhere.

Name: Tang Qi.

Status: Weak.

Profession: Demon of Judgment

[Information Fragment One: As the Demon of Judgment, your duty is to place the soul of the sacrificer into the target body after collecting the offering.]

[Information Fragment Two: Before you perform the judgment, the souls of both parties cannot leave. You may consume the offering on the left, but unless the sacrificer on the right initiates it, you cannot harm him.]

[Information Fragment Three: As the Demon of Judgment, once you leave the Soul Exchange Scale, your soul Will Be At risk of dissipating within three seconds.]

[Information Fragment Three: If you choose not to judge this time, the offering will be automatically absorbed by the scale, and you will fall into a slumber.]

"What is this? My Cheat System?"

As a veteran web novel enthusiast in his past life, Tang Qi was well aware of the standard treatment after a rebirth or transmigration: the inclusion of some kind of Cheat System.

Tang Qi had assumed that in his state as a devil, he would not receive such treatment, but he had not expected it to Appear at this very moment.

"There is a chance, the only chance."

Tang Qi's gaze ignored the rest of the interface entirely, focusing solely on the second and third Information Fragments.

The excitement felt like a warm current that forced Tang Qi's increasingly thin soul to suddenly become a bit more solid. Borrowing this recovered sliver of strength, Tang Qi opened his mouth and spat out a hoarse, deep voice that surprised even himself.

"Humble believer, your offering... is not enough."

Tang Qi's exterior, at this moment, wailed and roared just like a true, twisted devil.