Hearing Nagu's words, the other convicts quickly realized the trap.
"Of course! Why walk forward when we can just jump back to the observation platform and be done with it?"
Ten steps were nothing for these convicts, especially those with enhanced physical abilities or access to spirit-based tricks. Even without such powers, most of them could still make the leap back effortlessly.
But as they glanced at Ash's Executioner, which was growing rapidly in size, they immediately cursed under their breaths.
"That bastard Nagu!"
The message was clear: the moment they turned back, they'd be playing into the audience's hands, feeding their need for a spectacle.
Ash immediately realized his mistake.
Nagu's suggestion wasn't advice—it was bait. The audiences were invested now.
Viewers don't just watch the Blood Moon Trial; they participate. The system thrives on interaction, and what could be more interactive than giving the audience the power to punish disobedience?
As soon as Nagu planted the idea, Ash's vote count skyrocketed exponentially.
Ash turned toward the live feed on his interface.
「Ash Heath: 42,354 votes」
「Walcas Uhl: 31,002 votes」
The Executioner behind Walcas was equally massive, only slightly smaller than Ash's.
Catching Ash's glance, Walcas smirked. The elf suddenly leapt from his platform, landing gracefully on the steel wire. With unmatched poise, he walked the wire as if on a casual stroll.
Votes surged again.
"Of course," Ash muttered, watching Walcas's smug display earn him over two thousand votes in an instant.
"Walcas, you pretentious bastard. You're almost as hated as I am. Almost."
Ash tapped the interface curiously.
「View Walcas Uhl's criminal history?」
He selected "Yes."
A playback window opened, showing the elf's first-person perspective during his crime. Walcas crept through a university laboratory, stealing data from a console before stabbing a fellow researcher.
The camera shifted, switching to the victim's perspective.
The terrified researcher crawled backward, snot and tears streaming down his face. "Please… please don't…"
Walcas's blade plunged forward, silencing him with a single, visceral scream.
Efficient, cruel, and calculated.
Ash winced. The seamless transition between the perpetrator and victim's memories was both mesmerizing and disturbing.
"How can anyone commit a crime here?" Ash muttered. "This memory system leaves nothing hidden!"
The mere thought of being caught committing a crime in this world felt akin to soiling oneself in a public square—utterly humiliating and impossible to deny.
Still, the raw footage left Ash questioning something.
"Why does Walcas, whose crime seems relatively mundane compared to mine, have nearly as many votes?"
Ash shifted to his own profile.
The footage didn't show his memories but rather those of the Blood Hunters during their raid on the cult's lair.
The scene was a twisted tableau: a cavernous chamber drenched in blood, rune-covered altars surrounded by mutilated corpses.
It was horrifying enough that Ash skipped ahead. The mere sight made his chest tighten, a phantom pain from the soul-searing Cleansing Flame.
"Damn," Ash muttered, gripping his chest. "Even the memories burn? I'm not even the real Ash Heath!"
Repeating to himself "I'm not Heath, I'm not Heath" three times, the burning subsided.
It was a chilling reminder of how the Cleansing Flame worked—merciless, undeniable, and absolute.
Scanning the other convicts' records, Ash found a variety of atrocities:
Harvey had indeed desecrated corpses, though Ash dared not watch the footage.
One convict was a serial killer, another a cannibal.
Yet another had led a violent gang, orchestrating massacres.
Among them, Ash's "crimes" stood out as the most egregious. Even without the news coverage painting him as a monster, the footage alone would have secured his infamy.
But Walcas's high vote count remained puzzling.
His crime was almost tame by comparison.
But there was no time to dwell on it. The other convicts had nearly reached the central platform, and Ash needed to act.
Ash examined his options.
The water below was infested with Finger Sharks. Falling meant instant obliteration.
The skies above crackled with volatile Storm Spirits, frying anything that dared take flight.
Flying and swimming were out.
That left the steel wire—a treacherous path requiring either incredible balance or a suitable spirit.
Ash stared at the wire.
Thin, sharp, and taut, it easily sliced into his palm as he tested it. Walking across unassisted was a death sentence.
"Looks like it's you," Ash muttered, summoning his lone spirit: The Doppelgänger.
The Doppelgänger appeared beside him.
The sudden appearance of an identical copy left little room on the cramped platform, nearly forcing Ash over the edge.
He gestured toward the wire. "You go first."
The Doppelgänger stepped onto the wire without hesitation, but as soon as its feet touched the surface, the sharp edge tore through its shoes.
Poof.
The clone dissipated instantly.
Ash grinned.
"So, it can walk… as long as I protect it."
Ash glanced at his prison-issued cloth shoes. They were comfortable but utterly unsuited for tightrope walking. He needed something sturdier.
His eyes drifted toward Nagu, standing confidently on the observation platform.
The man's polished steel-toed boots gleamed under the Blood Moon's light.
Ash smirked, his voice dripping with admiration.
"Regulator, your boots… They're magnificent! What brand are they?"
Nagu raised an eyebrow, caught off guard by the question.
"These?" He lifted a foot. "They're Nightlord Edition from Lanternlight. Took three months to order."
Ash's eyes lit up. "I knew it! The Nightlord Edition—my dream boots! They're perfect!"
"Indeed, they are."
"Regulator, may I ask…" Ash hesitated, feigning nervousness. "Could I wear them? Just once? As my final request before redemption?"
Nagu froze, his confident demeanor cracking.
"Excuse me?"
"I insist," Ash continued earnestly. "It would mean the world to me."
Nagu's expression darkened, his voice low and dangerous.
"This is highly inappropriate—"
"Don't worry!" Ash interrupted. "I don't mind that they're already broken in!"
The audacity left Nagu visibly seething.
His fists clenched, and his gaze burned with contempt.
"Very well," Nagu growled, his voice tight with barely restrained fury.