Then let the witch offer her loyalty

You just can't understand why they're crying.

They didn't start the war.

Their friends and relatives were not in the war zone either.

Those refugees were people who had nothing to do with them.

If that's the case, why cry?

You really don't understand.

In the cartoons we usually watch, the villains often have the upper hand at first, but somehow the heroes always manage to turn the tables.

Whenever the scene of the good guys defeating the bad guys is shown, the other kids cheer and jump for joy.

But you find it ridiculous.

Why should justice always prevail?

Whether it's justice or evil, the one who has the last laugh should be the stronger one, not the one whose stance they hold.

Because of your many differences from others, your childhood was very unhappy.

However, being good at lying, you hid this unhappiness, making everyone, including your mother, think you are a sunny and cheerful little girl.

Until he was 9 years old, an accident happened.

It was a weekend, and some of the neighbor's kids came over to play.

While the housekeeper wasn't looking, you let them play with matches and set fire to the pile of fallen leaves in the backyard, causing a big fire.

The fire engulfed most of the garden, burning the once colorful flowers to ashes. The branches and leaves twisted and broke in the flames, making a tearing sound that mingled with the terrified screams of the children.

At that moment, you were stunned.

Not because of fear.

In fact, you have never experienced the feeling of "fear" from childhood to adulthood.

You were overwhelmed by the "beauty" before your eyes.

Burning petals fluttered in the air, as elegant as dancing fire butterflies. The vibrant colors faded in the firelight, leaving behind the purest black. With each breath, in addition to the heat, there was also the unique fragrance of charred flowers.

The flames raged and raged, seemingly releasing a tremendous sense of power. Every burning flame and every petal turned to ash revealed an indescribable wild beauty.

That strange beauty born from chaos and destruction brings you an unprecedented shock and leaves you intoxicated.

Later, the fire brigade arrived and put out the fire, and your mother rushed home after hearing the news.

Once she made sure none of you were injured, she immediately took you to see a psychologist for counseling.

When asked by the doctor how they felt at the time, the other children cried and said, "The fire was so scary!"

Only when you laugh and tell the doctor, "Setting fires is so much fun!"

You were so happy that you forgot to lie.

For the first time in your life, your mother looked at you with a strange gaze, her eyes filled with a sense of fear.

Since then, your mother has spent significantly more time with you. Even though she is very busy with work, she still makes time to spend a few hours with you every day.

After school, she would take you to do volunteer work in the community, cleaning the streets, playing with the children in the orphanage, visiting the elderly living alone, and patiently teaching you what kindness is.

During holidays, if there's no need to work overtime, she'll take you on trips to eat in other cities, experience rural scenery that you can't see in big cities, and show you what beauty is.

She also patiently taught you etiquette, the most representative of which was the "cluster etiquette".

Keep your back straight, place your left arm at a 30-degree angle to your ribs, make a fist with your left hand and extend your thumb upwards at a 90-degree angle, with your palm facing inwards and placed 3 centimeters from your heart, make a fist with your right hand and wrap it around your left thumb, with the tips of your knuckles protruding 2 centimeters, and form a 120-degree angle between your wrists.

This is an official imperial etiquette used on formal occasions, named for the gesture resembling holding a bouquet of flowers.

Your mother loves you with all her heart as you grow up, and she takes you to experience all kinds of beautiful things—things she considers beautiful.

To be honest, you don't understand what's so wonderful about those things.

You don't want to be a volunteer whose labor is being taken for free, you don't want to be an emotional dumping ground for orphans, and you don't want to do half a day of housework at the homes of unfamiliar elderly people just to get a "This child is so well-behaved".

You dislike wasting your hard-earned vacation just to go to a completely unfamiliar place, eat some strange food, and then see those boring mountains and rivers.

But the more uninterested you seem, the more your mother will try to influence you with those things.

You can vaguely sense that she seems to want to use these so-called "beautiful" things to erase something in your heart.

And so, you grew up day by day, and finally turned 18 and became an adult.

You have almost no memory of those years growing up.

Because every day is the same, without any change.

Yes, change.

Your life has remained unchanged for a long time.

Your mother guides you like a horse-drawn carriage, making you only able to follow the tracks she has laid out.

This reminds you of the etiquette she used to teach you.

30 degrees, 90 degrees, 3 centimeters, 2 centimeters, 120 degrees.

The distance and angle must be exactly as correct.

Her education was successful.

Under your mother's meticulous yet strict upbringing, you never did anything like burning down the garden again. You excelled in your studies and became the well-bred young lady in everyone's eyes.

But you hate this unchanging life.

After your 18th birthday ceremony, feeling bored, you went to the theater to see a performance.

There's a character in the play who captivates you the moment he appears on stage.

That was a clown.

The Joker is so unconventional, never caring about worldly opinions, doing what he finds interesting.

The clown can perform magic tricks to cheer up a little girl he doesn't know, leading her out of the shadows of her life; he is so kind.

The clown can also plunge a dagger into a person's heart from behind, letting out a sharp laugh amidst the blood—it's so evil.

The Joker never changes himself for others, never suppresses his truest desires, and is always laughing heartily. He doesn't care about morality or restraint, and only wants to make the world what he thinks is a better place.

As you become increasingly engrossed and captivated by the clown's dramatic performance, your soul seems to merge with his.

At that moment, you feel as if you are standing on the stage, the lights engulfing your figure, the air filled with the unique smell of old wood in the theater, and you and the clown dancing together with outstretched arms, unrestrained and wild.

You feel like a flame rising from the abyss, burning and spreading wildly, burning away all rules, etiquette, and constraints in that instant.

happy!

So happy!

You haven't felt this way in ages!

Especially when you see the end, when the Joker sits on his throne amidst the corpses of his victims, grinning wickedly in the raging flames, you feel your blood vessels burst, your blood exploding into fireworks, and you're so excited you almost scream!

You absolutely love the Joker!!!

After the performance, you, as a VIP, easily entered the backstage area.

You can't wait to see that clown.

However, when the actor playing the clown learned your identity, he became so nervous that he dared not breathe, behaving timidly in front of you, showing none of the crazy charisma he displayed on stage.

You then realize that the person in front of you is not a clown at all.

It's nothing more than a superficial imitator.

An ordinary mortal.

A month later, at your mother's suggestion, you participated in the Imperial Examination.

You simply don't understand why those simple questions, whose answers are obvious at a glance, make other test takers scratch their heads.

And those interviewers were so simplistic; you could easily see through the deeper meaning behind their questions and then give them the perfect answers they wanted to hear.

And so, with first place in both the written and oral exams, and a huge lead that completely crushed the second-place candidate, you successfully entered the same organization as your mother—the Tribunal for the Judgment of Crimes.

You thought this job would be fun, but you're wrong. Life here is more boring than the first half of your life.

Everyone works day after day under the rules and regulations. Each person is like a cog in a machine, only knowing how to do their job honestly and not daring to overstep the rules.

Especially where you are, your colleagues will be silent, even the most outspoken troublemakers will carefully check if their clothes are buttoned up properly.

You often have the illusion that these conventional colleagues aren't human at all, but rather living corpses.

Happiness does not exist here.

And just like that, your life became stagnant, completely unchanged.

This reminds you of the traditional ceremonial ceremony.

30 degrees, 90 degrees, 3 centimeters, 2 centimeters, 120 degrees.

The monotonous life is driving you almost crazy. Countless times, you've imagined burning this numb and boring life to ashes, just like you did when you burned down the garden as a child.

But I have to admit, your mother's parenting was incredibly successful.

What she taught you over the years has become a lock on your mind, firmly suppressing the restlessness in your heart.

Whenever an impulse arises in your heart, the instinct deep within your soul will whisper to you: "Go, the purpose of life is to be happy, do whatever you want."

But the lock your mother put on tells you: "No, you can't become a monster."

Two conflicting thoughts, appearing simultaneously, torment you, tear you apart, and drive you almost insane.

Finally, you gave up the struggle.

You begin to fight against fate in an extreme way—nihilism.

In your spare time outside of work, you would empty your mind, not think about anything, and just quietly space out by yourself.

Since life is stagnant and one can see the end of life at a glance, why not waste time?

Let us live and die in nothingness like corpses.

That's what you're thinking.

until...

...

...

...

In the office at dusk, a white-haired girl gazed at the distant sky through the floor-to-ceiling window, her crimson eyes reflecting the colors of the sunset.

The setting sun shone on Luo Lingyou, splashing golden rays of light. She curled up in the chair, like a cat idly daydreaming.

Time flowed slowly, the sky gradually darkened, and Luo Lingyou's soul seemed to fall with the setting sun. The frequency of his blinking slowed down, and his consciousness began to sink into darkness.

"Squeak—thump." Just as she was about to fall asleep, a slight noise woke her up again.

Several colleagues have returned; they are all judges stationed at the Administration Bureau, and they are in charge of different departments than me. They will be working overtime tonight.

The word "judge" sounds cold, but in the end it's just a profession. Underneath the uniform are people, and they all have normal human emotions.

At this moment, several judges were sharing milk tea ordered from a takeout order, chatting and laughing.

During informal working hours, the atmosphere was relaxed. They opened their computers to work on their respective documents, sipped milk tea, and chatted about recent interesting events.

"Hey, there's a performance review for conversion from a temporary to a permanent position at the end of this month, right?"

"Yes, the Administration Bureau and the Court of Justice are working together; it will start next week."

“A few days ago, my dad’s classmate came to my house to inquire about employment in the court and the administration bureau. He said his son didn’t pass the national civil service exam and wanted to try to get a non-permanent position to get a permanent one. My dad advised him to hurry up and leave because the competition was too fierce.”

"I laughed. These days, getting promoted from a temporary to a permanent position is like hell, especially in our two units. They can really wear you down to death, and they'll try to persuade as many people as possible to leave."

"Speaking of which, did you guys know that a few days ago a non-official operator solo-killed a Witch Agent?"

"I know, Chen Moxin, she's a temporary agent seconded to Group 9 of Special Investigation Division 7. I asked Lao Luo about her at noon, and he said he'd nominated Chen Moxin for the promotion assessment list."

Luo Lingyou was in a daze, but when he heard Chen Moxin's name, his unfocused eyes suddenly came to focus.

She blinked, turned her chair around, and asked, "What were you just saying?"

Luo Lingyou's chair was facing away from everyone, so no one noticed her.