Damn, I recarneted As A Judge in Fantasy World

Chapter 93: Raymond Mill Flour Theft Case [1]

Count Schultz received the first batch, but it was never released to the public. Since he paid a high price, it was only fair that he would expect corresponding benefits. "I'll probably put it out in the South, which is my main stage," he mused.

How he conducted his business was of no concern to me.

Production would continue to increase regardless. With the Midias problem somewhat resolved, it was time to return to my main business—not the courts, but the governorship of Deliat.

"Why do I suddenly really not want to go?" I muttered to myself.

The original goal of 80% recovery was already ambitious, but now they wanted more. Moreover, the goal setting was vague—raise it to a level where it's okay to pay tribute?

Didn't that mean I'd have to sit in the governor's seat until I felt like I'd become the emperor? The thought made my head spin.

But as a former civil servant, I was strict about following orders. Doing things properly was a problem for later.

"Your Majesty, we have a guest," Cordell McNeil suddenly spoke up, emerging from the shadows.

I wasn't surprised because I had noticed the noise in advance, but anyone else would have been startled.

"How long are you going to keep doing this?" I asked.

"As a knight of the escort, I must stay close to the Duke," Cordell replied.

"When I fought the incarnation of fire, I couldn't even see the tip of your nose."

"I was at meeting with the Imperial Guard knights back then, wasn't I? The Black Agent has his own duties as well."

"Yes, yes, I guess so," I said, walking away, playfully grumbling. Cordell McNeil had his circumstances.

He had to pass on the information he had collected while escorting me to his superiors. He must have been quite busy in many ways. Besides, he probably never dreamed that an accident would occur in the Carriers Duchy.

"But why you came to bring news of Sir McNeill? Where are the servants?" I asked.

"Actually, I didn't receive it. I just found out about it while scouting the area. I was in the bell tower just a moment ago."

"Ah, I see," I said, impressed by his loyalty.

As Cordell McNeil had said, a servant soon came running and announced the visitor's presence.

"Who did you say the guest was?"

"This is Judge Emir Colund."

"Please bring him to the living room."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

As I turned around, a thought suddenly occurred to me. It wasn't business hours yet.

What on earth brought him all the way to the Carriers Duchy? Even if it were close to Amman Perias, it would still take an hour by carriage.

"Now that I have guests, should I offer them some tea?"

Despite the dark world I lived in, it still had everything. The nobility often enjoyed tea, though the teacups and the teapot were all made of silver, making the handle too hot to drink from immediately.

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I didn't bother with wrapping the handle in cloth—I thought it would look odd.

There was even a maid whose job was to hold the silver cup's handle for me. It wasn't like I was checking the temperature of a stove or anything.

"It would be great if we could make a tea set out of porcelain... Oh?"

I suddenly thought. Adam's products were mostly trays and cups. Because they were easy to make, they could be mass-produced. But now it was time for sales to start dropping. The time had come to seek change.

Since I had been pleasing the common people, I should also satisfy the needs of the nobles.

I was enjoying imagining new business ideas when a knock on the door interrupted me. A familiar voice followed.

"Nice to meet you, Your Honor."

"I am on leave. Isn't Judge Emir the presiding judge now?" I replied.

"Haha! That was just a temporary assignment. How have you been?"

"Yes, thank you for your concern. Please have a seat."

"Thank you," he said, sitting down.

Even though they were subordinates, they were still customers.

Politeness was necessary.

I poured us strong tea. The silver cup had cooled down enough that there was no need for the maid to check the temperature.

"It smells good. Where is it from?" Judge Emir asked.

"It's a weed growing around the house," I said.

"Pfft!"

He almost spat out the tea, glaring at me with resentful eyes. It seemed he wondered why someone of my status was playing such a prank.

"By the way, what brings you here? It doesn't seem like something that would warrant a sudden visit," I inquired.

"Ha, haha. That's true, but... something quite troublesome happened," he replied.

"Why can't it be resolved on its own? Didn't you delegate all the authority you have?"

"But the parties strongly desire the presence of His Highness the Duke of Carriers," he admitted.

"What are you talking about? Since when have they been arguing about such things?" I asked.

The capital court randomly assigns cases.

Judges only had the power to refuse; they could not choose trials as they pleased. But now the parties were trying to choose the judge?

That was absurd.

In times like this, the answer was to just follow procedure. But I couldn't help but be intrigued by Judge Emir's next words.

"The parties are crying out loud in front of the court. They are denouncing their pitiful circumstances."

"It's not like it's some kind of mortal sin. What are they doing?" I asked, puzzled.

"People who feel sorry for them are pouring in petitions," he explained.

I sat with my brow furrowed, lost in deep thought.

If I listened, it seemed like it would set a bad precedent, but if I ignored it, I feared public criticism. It was a nerve-racking situation.

No matter what choice I made, it felt like it was going to be the worst.

"Let's find out what's going on," I decided.