Rotten Apple

The system's final judgment threw all three of them into a complete panic.

"No! I choose the white cup instead!"

Meng Yinyin tried to pull her hand back like a madwoman, but the black cup seemed to have grown into her palm. Blackish-red slime began crawling up the cup's walls and onto her fingers.

Luo Qi screamed frantically. He tried to get up and run, but two Faceless Attendants pinned him firmly to his seat.

"Let go! Let go of me! I don't want to play anymore, okay?"

Zheng Chuan still tried to make a last desperate struggle, raising his axe and chopping at the cup.

But before the axe blade could touch the rim, it was engulfed by the blackish-red liquid surging from within the cup and dissolved into a puff of white mist.

[Judgment has taken effect.]

[Cannot be revoked.]

Isolde's hand, which had been supporting her chin, paused slightly.

She had considered one black and two white, and she had considered two black and one white.

She had even considered the possibility that, for one brief moment, the three of them might lose their minds and willingly choose the white cups together.

But she had never imagined that all three of them would so neatly choose black.

After a brief moment of surprise, Isolde suddenly laughed.

It began as a soft sound, then grew clearer and clearer until she could barely suppress it.

"Impressive." She raised a hand and clapped lightly twice. "There was clearly a path where you could all live, but you simply had no interest in it. I suppose adversity really does reveal true colors."

She looked at the three people who were about to be swallowed, and the smile on her lips turned cold.

"But that's good too, because this is more like the people I remember."

The three of them did not understand what she meant, nor could they possibly understand.

Isolde had merely confirmed something at last.

What happened in her previous life had not been an accident. They had not been forced into becoming that way by their environment. They had always been rotten to the bone.

And now, these ugly souls and filthy human nature were precisely what she welcomed most.

Dark-red formation patterns lit up beneath their feet, trapping them firmly in their seats.

Zheng Chuan was finally afraid. He shouted himself hoarse.

"Isolde! Spare me! I'm willing to be your dog!"

Luo Qi sprawled across the table and desperately stretched out a hand toward Isolde.

"I... I know where the other teams' camps are! I can tell you a lot of information! Don't kill me!"

Meng Yinyin struggled like a madwoman, her eyes filled with nothing but venomous hatred.

"You monster! You'll die a horrible death!"

Isolde looked at them. Instead of the satisfaction she had imagined, she felt only a faint weariness.

So these were the people she had hated for so long. Once stripped bare, there was barely anything to them.

Greedy, cowardly, selfish—without even the originality to be truly evil.

She raised her hand, then lowered it lightly. The three black cups shattered at once.

A tide of blackish-red liquid burrowed into their eyes, ears, noses, and mouths.

Their screams exploded through the Banquet Hall, only to be swiftly swallowed by the Blood Feast Formation.

Three murky souls were forcibly ripped from their fleshly shells.

They twisted and struggled like three fish caught on hooks.

[Zheng Chuan's soul has been confiscated.]

[Luo Qi's soul has been confiscated.]

[Meng Yinyin's soul has been confiscated.]

[Blood Feast judgment complete.]

The three souls writhed together wildly in the middle of the long table.

Their roars, curses, and shrieks all fused together, like a pot of boiling poison soup churning the surrounding air so violently that it made one's eardrums ache.

[You obtained: Sin Souls ×3]

[Home-Field Advantage activated.]

[You obtained active skill: Judgment Synthesis]

Try searching for the author if you can't find the book title. It may have simply been renamed!

[Skill Type: Growth / Soul Affinity]

[Skill Description: The lingering souls of targets you have defeated, judged, or marked can be compressed into special fruits according to their quality.]

The next second, all three souls were squeezed together and condensed into an apple amid the final flash of red light.

A rotten apple.

It was only the size of a fist, its skin streaked black and red, as if it had been soaked in blood and dredged from rotten mud.

Through the splits in its flesh, three blurry human faces could vaguely be seen.

They were still crying and wailing inside, but their voices were as faint as though they had been locked at the bottom of a distant well, drifting in and out.

The apple fell from midair, landing softly on the long table before rolling toward Isolde.

She lowered her eyes to look at it and suddenly fell into a daze.

By all rights, she should have been disgusted.

She should have felt her stomach churn as violently as it had when she first saw Valen's pile of rotten flesh.

But strangely, she did not.

Perhaps because she hated them too deeply, or perhaps because the original owner's lingering soul was gradually awakening.

She actually found this rotten apple a little... cute.

Like a carefully crafted work of art, full of grotesquerie and the scent of death.

The moment that thought surfaced, even Isolde fell silent for a second.

It did not seem like something she would think. It was more like an instinct left behind by this body.

Or perhaps the Castle's new owner privileges were teaching her how to enjoy her spoils of war.

Isolde reached out and picked up the rotten apple.

Its cold, slimy texture spread across her palm, yet it was not as disgusting as she had imagined.

She clearly knew that this thing was absolutely abnormal.

But the next second, as though drawn by some invisible force, she opened her mouth as if possessed and took a light bite.

The rotten flesh burst between her teeth, and something cold and viscous slid down her throat into her stomach.

Isolde's pupils abruptly contracted.

She could feel a chaotic flame trying desperately to burn her.

Very quickly, another, gentler force surged from the depths of her soul.

It wrapped around those filthy things little by little and melted them away.

Some strange nourishment moistened her body through her blood, flowing deep into her internal organs.

[You devoured a "Judgment Fruit."]

[Filthy lingering souls ×3 have been converted.]

[Soul stability increased.]

[Personal attributes greatly increased.]

[Active skill: Judgment Synthesis proficiency increased.]

[Mask of the Thousand-Faced Witch: Unknown mutation occurred.]

Isolde suddenly snapped back to her senses.

She lowered her head and stared at her empty hand.

Then—

"Bleurgh!"

She braced herself against the long table and began retching violently.

What had she just eaten?

She had eaten a rotten apple formed from the souls of three rotten people?

Was this really not some kind of reverse punishment?

Lia, who had been standing quietly nearby, somehow produced a silver basin and thoughtfully held it out before her.

"Miss, I think you need this."

Isolde: "..."

But just as she took the silver basin and continued vomiting her guts out, a very soft laugh suddenly sounded by her ear.

She knew that laugh well. It had appeared when she drove the bone nail into her own heart.

It seemed to come from a great distance, yet also seemed to have always been hidden in the deepest part of her body.

A young girl's voice, gentle and syrupy, carrying an almost sickening delight, whispered in her ear.

"Well done."

"My dear Isolde."

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