"Huh..."
Victor Langdon's forehead was drenched in sweat as he woke up from yet another nightmare.
He was panting heavily, like a drowning man just pulled from the water. Looking around in terror, he found himself lying on his bed in his apartment.
Victor let out a shaky sigh of relief.
"What the hell is going on? Two nightmares in a row?"
He lifted the quilt and started to get out of bed—but the moment his feet touched the ground, a chilling thought flashed in his mind like thunder.
Wait...
Wasn't he supposed to be driving to his mistress's house this morning?
He had been on the road—so why was he suddenly back in his apartment?
Before Victor could make sense of it, the entire apartment began to shake violently. The next instant, the ceiling collapsed, crushing him from the waist down. Dozens of steel rods pierced through his body, nailing him to the floor.
Agonizing pain flooded his body like a raging tide. Even fainting felt like a luxury.
After what felt like an eternity, Victor heard voices shouting nearby—rescue teams.
He looked around and saw that all the surrounding buildings had collapsed in what looked like a massive earthquake. Firefighters and police officers were digging through the rubble, pulling survivors from the ruins.
"H–Help... Help..."
He tried to cry out, but no sound came from his throat.
He wanted to move, but his arms were pinned to the ground by the steel bars.
He could only watch helplessly as rescuers carried people away one after another—none of them even glanced at him.
The pain was unbearable, but the despair was worse.
Two rescuers passed by him. One of them looked down briefly, then told the other calmly, "He's gone. Focus on the ones still alive."
Victor's eyes widened in disbelief.
He wanted to scream that he was still alive—but his throat refused to make a sound. He wanted to struggle, but every tiny movement sent waves of searing pain through his body, as though his flesh was being sliced apart.
Fear. Helplessness. Pain. Despair.
The emotions tore through him, and in that moment, he suddenly remembered the terrified cries of those young girls—the ones he had hurt.
When his strength finally left him and he closed his eyes in hopelessness, a faint sound of rushing water reached his ears.
He opened his eyes again—only to find himself lying on a broken raft, drifting endlessly across a desolate sea.
Around him, countless sharks circled, their fins slicing through the water.
Two streets away from the New York Courthouse...
Linen sat inside an unlicensed van, casually eating an orange.
In the passenger seat, Victor Langdon sat motionless, trapped in the illusion created by the Eye of Judgment. His face twisted from pain to despair to terror, reliving the worst moments of his life again and again.
Watching him silently, Linen took another bite of orange and dialed a number on his phone.
The line connected.
"Senior, did you handle the thing I asked for?" Linen asked calmly.
On the other end, Jessica's voice came, cheerful and confident. "Of course. This is the first time you've ever asked me for help since we've known each other."
"Don't worry—Uncle Sean, the top prosecutor in New York, is an old friend of my father. He's watched me grow up. I've already spoken with him. As long as we have solid evidence of Victor Langdon's crimes, Uncle Sean will take the case himself and make sure that bastard gets life in prison."
Then, Jessica's tone turned curious. "By the way, junior, did that creep Victor Langdon offend you or something? Do you want me to find someone to—"
"He didn't provoke me," Linen interrupted coldly. "I just hate men like him. That's all."
Jessica paused, then nodded. "Yeah. People like him don't deserve to live in this world anyway."
After ending the call, Linen tossed another orange slice into his mouth.
Originally, he had planned to personally visit the presiding judge at the courthouse. But now that Jessica had handled it, there was no need for him to step in directly.
After all, he and his senior had... worked together enough times that he didn't want to cause her unnecessary trouble.
Finishing the last slice of orange, Linen put on the Judge's Mask once again and released Victor Langdon from the illusion of judgment.
When Victor returned to reality, his mind was blank from the endless cycles of pain and death. The moment he saw the masked figure before him, he let out a panicked shriek, trembling uncontrollably.
He didn't even know how he would die this time—but he knew it would be terrifying.
"Victor Langdon," Linen's cold voice echoed, "You are guilty of molesting young girls. Do you plead guilty?"
Seeing that the hellish figure didn't immediately strike him down, Victor burst into tears.
He didn't want to suffer anymore. He didn't want to die again and again.
"Yes! I plead guilty! I'll turn myself in! I'll confess everything!" he cried, snot and tears streaming down his face.
"Remember your words," Linen said coldly. "If you don't confess this time... I promise you'll die in fear and despair forever."
"I will! I swear I will!" Victor screamed, shaking like a leaf.
With a low humph, Linen started the van and drove toward the courthouse.
When they arrived, he opened the door and kicked Victor out onto the pavement.
Victor collapsed to the ground, sobbing uncontrollably as he watched the van disappear into the distance.
For the first time, he wasn't angry. He wasn't afraid of the police or the court.
He was just... relieved.
Because after dying in nightmares again and again, even prison felt like mercy.
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