There Is a Judge in the Mortal World

The day her brother-in-arms and fiancee held him under the bathwater, Shen Yan was thirty years old.

A year later, he woke up in his own bed.

He had exactly one year left to live.

A nameless book had appeared on his bedside table.

Write someone's name in it, and they would die the way they had harmed others.

He sentenced seventeen people, and every sentence came true. The accuracy began to frighten him.

Then he saw his grandfather's handwriting:

"The one who harms people is my son."

His father was a human trafficker who had handled 132 victims.

His grandfather had sentenced the wrong person once. He tore out that page and ran.

Now the book was in Shen Yan's hands.

On the last page was his own name.