Damn, I recarneted As A Judge in Fantasy World

Chapter 96: Raymond Mill Flour Theft Case [4]

"I see. You survived that hell, so why didn't you ask for help?"

…

A terrible silence fell over the courtroom.

Defendant Basset said nothing.

Even his outstanding acting skills were of no use now. I had hit the nail on the head. I was going to drive the point home.

"You said your children were in the residence hall? Court reporter, bring them here immediately."

"Yes!"

The court reporter's voice boomed with authority.

Unlike when I had summoned Baron Relbrandt, his gaze was sharp, as if he were ready to sever Basset's head right then and there.

After quite some time, the court reporter returned, accompanied by a pair of siblings who looked as if they had been through a lot. G

I smiled softly at the frightened children.

"Kids, don't be nervous. We're here to clear your father's name."

"Yes."

"Okay, then answer me this: Where did you live a year ago?"

"It's a village very far away," the boy answered.

Given that it was only the words of a seven-year-old, I could understand it even if the exact place names weren't mentioned. I smiled broadly and continued asking questions.

"Yeah. Good job. I heard there was a flood there back then. Do you remember?"

"Uh… I think that's what it was."

"Your house was washed away by the flood, and you ended up here. Right?"

"Yes!" The child, who had been looking around nervously, smiled brightly as he spoke. His face beamed with confidence in his answer.

But then, I turned my gaze sharply toward the defendant, Bassett. Stay updated with m-v l|-NovelBin.net

"The details differ from what the children remember."

"That, that's…!"

"Of course, I'm sure you've already discussed it. Even if you weren't sure if it was a fire or water."

The audience was shocked. Something completely different from the testimony had just come out.

"Are you saying that everything I've told you so far is a lie?"

"Wait a minute, then surely… those kids aren't your real children?"

The gallery filled with murmurs.

The shock was palpable. Everyone had understood Bassett's circumstances and felt sorry for him. With this, the theft case seemed nearly concluded.

Originally, it was a simple legal issue. All that remained was the decision of whether to be lenient toward him or not.

But I had no intention of ending it here.

'It still smells bad.'

Even though his lie had been exposed, Bassett's expression remained calm.

His face had turned pale, but he was gradually regaining his composure.

Honestly, he wouldn't beat up a middleman for stealing a few sacks of flour, would he.

He's probably thinking he can just serve a few years and then walk free. But I don't think it's right to let it go at that.

I decided to throw out the words that had remained ambiguous until the very end.

"Let me ask you one more thing. Did you start that fire back then?"

"Huh?"

Bassett's eyes, which were just starting to regain their composure, wavered greatly.

It seemed like he hadn't expected such a question out of nowhere. He was on trial for a flour theft case, so what did the fire in Picant Village have to do with it?

But I had every right and reason to ask.

The doubts that had been sprouting in my mind had already borne fruit.

"Why are you so flustered? Like you really did start that fire."

"No, no, no way. I, I don't know anything… I'm just a victim."

"If you answer with a trembling voice, it will only increase suspicion. You need to explain clearly why you ran away from there. Right now."

I looked down at Bassett with a stern expression. In earth, even if the defendant confessed, it would be of no use.

It's clearly stated in the Constitution and the Criminal Procedure Act that a defendant cannot be punished when his confession is the only evidence.

But there's nothing like that here. If you wanted to survive, you had to come up with some kind of rational reason.

'Of course, I don't have high expectations.'

The suspicion that Bassett started the fire was just that—a suspicion, with no evidence whatsoever. I just poked at it because something didn't smell right.

But at that very moment, the girl who had been quiet until now slowly raised her hand. I waved my arm to quiet the room and then got straight to asking a question.

"Okay. What's your name?"

"Helen."

"If you have something to say, feel free to say it. But you have to be honest."

"Yes, I don't lie."

"Okay. Go ahead."

Finally, Helen pointed at Bassett and said, with a cold expression you wouldn't imagine from a six-year-old child, "That man set the fire. He stabbed my mother with a knife before that."

"Did you see that happen?"

"Yes, I was going to the back room. That's when I got caught and brought here."

The whole story was revealed by a six-year-old child.

Adults tend to ignore children.

At that age, they think, kids don't understand. What would a child know even if they saw it? Something like that.

But children are human too, and by the age of five or six, they have sufficient cognitive abilities. Enough to even understand the meaning of death.

I picked up the gavel with a very distorted expression.

"I sentence defendant Bassett, who caused great harm to the community through murder, arson, and theft, to 60 years in prison."

*Bam! Bam! Bam!*

The death penalty would have been too merciful for a guy like that. I want to make him rot in hell and die a painful death.

***

Murder, arson, and theft.

Some might ask why such a guy was kept alive. That's understandable, considering the maximum punishment in modern society is death. But this is a world of utterly dark fantasy. Life in prison is much more painful than death.

'Besides, the chances of being released are less than 20%.'

Especially in the case of long-term inmates who were incarcerated for 10 years—more than half of them come out disabled.

But, would I just send a guy like Bassett to the guillotine? Such a merciful sentence should not have been handed down to a heinous criminal.

'I have to give him a taste of hell.'

Besides, there was another reason why he had to be caught. Isn't this the monster that destroyed an entire village? A guy like that gets arrested for simple theft and complains about it?

"It's strange. It's so strange."

"What are you talking about?"

As I was muttering to myself, I heard Baron Relbrandt's voice next to me.

I was currently on my way to see Bassett in prison. I was going to give him a taste of hell first, and then I was going to drop some bait. If you lure him into a plea bargain, he'll confess anything.

"No. How about Bassett?"

"I didn't give him any special treatment because he was sentenced to 60 years. I just sent him to the Erset mine."

"That's enough."

There were three workhouses in the Capital Correctional Facility.

The first was to be mobilized for quarry and wall repairs, which was the easiest.

Next was the nearby open-pit mine.

Originally, this was the end, but a new, toughest part had been created.

The Erset mine, which had been closed down recently, was selected as the new work site.

Since the ground was very unstable, there would probably be a huge number of casualties. In a place like that, of course, you have to deploy guys who don't mind dying.

Clank!

"Here it is, Your Majesty."

"Thank you."

Baron Relbrandt opened the iron gate himself.

A cloud of dust rose up along with a sour smell. The conditions were so poor that it made you wonder if people could live there, even though it was a newly constructed building.

It was probably built like this on purpose because this is a world where the human rights of violent criminals aren't taken care of at all.

Knock knock.

"C-164. Get up."

Baron Relbrandt kicked the sagging man with his foot. Unlike when he spoke to me, his tone was very stern.

A man with disheveled hair, bound in heavy restraints, raised his head feebly.

A person who had lost his name and was now called C-164. It was Bassett, the vicious criminal.

After a while, Bassett's gaze slowly turned around. From Baron Relbrandt to me.

"Kwaaak!"

Crunch!

He started having violent fits.

How could he not go crazy and freak out when I was the one who put him in prison for 60 years?

But I just waited with cold eyes for the struggle to end.

'So what can he do?'

The restraints and chains were tightly binding his entire body. Bassett just screamed. He couldn't do me any harm. Oh, there's one more disgusting thing left.

"Kyaaaaak!"

He spat phlegm. But his actions didn't last long.

Bam!

"Whew!"

Baron Relbrandt quickly struck his head, causing Bassett to collapse helplessly, drooling.

"You look so pathetic. I thought you would have been reformed by now."

"It's only been three days. He hasn't really gotten a taste of prison yet."

"I'll make sure he's educated on your next visit."

"It seems like he's determined to carry the burden alone until the end, but I doubt that will last."

"Well, if he keeps his mouth shut, he'll be locked up for 60 years or die before then."

Swish.

At that moment, Bassett raised his head. It seemed like he had figured out something from the conversation between me and Baron Relbrandt.