Damn, I recarneted As A Judge in Fantasy World

Eventually, the Marquis Yeats was brought to trial.

"We will now commence the trial of His Excellency, the Marquis Hugo Yates. Salute your honor."

Crazy, crazy! It looked no different than usual—spectators and court reporters paying respectfully. Even Judge Josep Padilla, who shouted in a loud voice, sat down. But the content was a bit strange.

"Your Majesty? Riot?"

Not only did he use honorifics for the defendant, but he omitted all the important details. If it were true, it would be correct to call it the special injury case of Hugo Yates.

I glared at Josef. As expected, the guy suddenly had a stinging expression on his face. He seemed to realize what I was trying to point out.

"Judge Padilla."

"Yes, Your Honor."

"Just follow the procedure. Who are you to change the name of the case?"

"…I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

Until now, I have never said anything about this guy's quiet behavior. It's a bit annoying, but he doesn't cross the line. But this time, the farting was excessive.

'I guess this was just a remark in case something goes wrong.' That is if he is found not guilty or is reinstated by order of the Emperor.

The Marquis of Yeats will retain his position, so he can make all sorts of fuss about it.

Perhaps then Josef would say something like this: 'Your Majesty! I did my best. Didn't you even purify the name of the incident and publish it?'

It was obvious what their hidden intentions were. I've been meaning to give it a try sometime, and today is that day. I guess I won't be able to act so openly from now on. If this guy has any sense, that is.

"…That's all."

The defendant's questioning and evidence examination were over in an instant.

Because the charges were admitted, the trial proceeded as a summary trial.

"The defendant swung a sword while drunk, injured twenty people, and showed no remorse. Please sentence him to 15 years in prison."

The prosecutor's sentence was appropriate. He was just like Alonzo Braden, who enjoyed hunting humans. He was also arrested for whipping thirty tourists.

The Marquis of Yeats cut down twenty men with his sword, so he deserved a similar sentence. But the Marquis Yeats did not seem to think so.

The defense attorney's final argument followed.

"The defendant was drunk at the time. He was in a state of mental weakness, so I hope the sentence will be reduced."

I was secretly a little surprised. There is such logic here too!

After all, wherever people live, they are all the same.

'Surprisingly, there is a provision for mitigation of punishment for mental weakness in the law.'

The problem is that the judges have so much discretion, but most things are covered.

Of course, I didn't want to look at this guy at all. If there had been a proper apology and compensation, the outcome might have been different.

But the Marquis Yeats did not take any action. He only knelt before the palace and asked the emperor for forgiveness.

'You should have done that in front of the victim.'

As Article 10 of the Criminal Act, deals with mental and physical disabilities.

It was a provision that reduced the punishment if a crime was committed while in a state of mental or physical incapacitation.

But at the same time, there were exceptions, and that was this: 'Actions that are free in their cause.'

If you foresee the occurrence of danger and cause mental or physical disability yourself, the mental weakness reduction will not apply.

Marquis Hugo Yates already had several instances of swinging his sword while drunk. Only, no one was hurt during that time.

But this time, he caused a ruckus at the party. The victims were nearby and unaware of the Marquis of Yeats's behavior. In that case, it could be seen that there was a possibility of foreseeing the occurrence of a risk.

"Dismissed."

I said with a determined expression. Then the lawyer's eyes became dizzy, and the Marquis of Yeats abruptly rose from his seat.

"No, what kind of ill feelings do you have towards me that makes you do this!"

It was a truly absurd idea. But I think I know why they came to that conclusion. Because originally, people judge others based on themselves.

'If I am like this, others will be like this too.'

So, all good people know that they are good, and all bad people know that they are bad.

For Marquis Yeats to say something like that must mean that he has ill feelings in his heart. It was quite easy to guess the reason.

It must be because not everything went the way he had planned. He was brought here without even being able to ask the emperor, and his request for a reduction in sentence due to drunkenness was also rejected.

I looked at the Marquis of Yeats with calm eyes and said:

"Defendant."

"Tell me. Let me hear what grounds you used to reject it."

"Have you reached an agreement with the victims?"

"Do you really have to do that?"

"Of course. Only then can we truly stand at the starting point of atonement. How can you claim to be mentally weak when you can't even do such a basic thing?"

"… … ."

The arrogant Marquis Yeats's ramblings finally stopped. Doesn't that sound right to anyone? If he show that he's are repentant, people will not say anything afterward. But it was as expected.

Just because he hear a warning once doesn't mean trash becomes normal.

"You can't punish me for that. I am! The greatest contributor to this country!"

It's out again. That fucking noise. Although I was shocked, I continued speaking without showing it.

"Whether the defendant is a public official or not, it has nothing to do with law enforcement. If he didn't want to be punished, he shouldn't have committed the crime in the first place."

"This person!"

"I hereby sentence the defendant, Hugo Yates, to 15 years in prison and a fine of 2,000 gold. This will be given to the victims as compensation."

Bam! Bam! Bam!

The gavel fell carelessly and struck the wooden board. At that, the Marquis of Yeats's face turned bright red. It seemed like the feeling of humiliation was much greater than the feeling of despair.

He must be doing that because he is confident that he can get out of it. Because one word from the Emperor could change fate.

'I don't care if my position is put at risk because of this.'

There can be no compromise in righting wrongs. I raised my head proudly and looked around the room. This incident was of great importance to the imperialist aristocracy.

Like the Marquis Yeats, aren't they all public servants? Under the protection of the highest authority in the empire, he has never been punished for anything he has done.

But, the privileges that had been passed down for over a dozen years disappeared overnight.

How could there not be a backlash? But what I received was not criticism, but applause.

Clap, clap, clap, clap!

"I knew this would happen! His Highness, the Duke of Carriers, is not one to compromise."

"I thought you only hated the Sierra nobles."

"No. He just destroys all the sinners."

"Yes. In front of him, party affiliation and such mean nothing."

"But isn't this a bit dangerous? After all, he is the Emperor's most favored public servant."

"Hmm! That's a bit… … ."

Of course, there were some voices of concern. After all, they put the top contributor in jail.

"Hey! Do you think he'll be safe after doing this?"

The Marquis of Yeats threw away even the dignity that was left, which was as small as an ant's tears. But there was no one who agreed with his rebuke.

Even the imperialist nobles were shaking their heads.

I looked at the courtroom reporters, not caring whether he was being rude or not.

Isn't the sentencing already over? Then, the execution of the sentence should have begun right away, but he was still standing there blankly.

"What are you doing? Get him admitted right away."

It seemed like I was using very difficult words, but the meaning was simple. I'm telling you to put him in jail. Only then did the knights of the court arrest the Marquis of Yates.

"Excuse me."

"What, what are you doing! You rotten things!"

Although his attitude was polite, his touch was extremely rough.

Finally, Marquis Yeats was led out, and I bowed my head to the audience. Then again, thunderous applause broke out.

At that moment, I was sure. 'Justice was set straight again today.'

As the Marquis of Yeats was dragged away, his furious yells echoed in the courtroom.

But I paid him no mind. Justice had been served, and that was all that mattered.

The crowd's applause began to die down as people slowly filed out of the courtroom. I stood up from my seat, feeling a strange mix of satisfaction and exhaustion.

Trials like this always took their toll, not physically, but mentally. Seeing people like Yeats, with all their arrogance and entitlement, reminded me why the empire needed justice to be blind.

As I prepared to leave, Josef Padilla, still standing by his bench, approached me cautiously. His earlier blunder clearly weighed on him, and now he looked hesitant to speak.

"Your Honor... I, uh, wanted to apologize again for my earlier actions. I overstepped—"

"Josef," I interrupted, my voice steady, "you need to understand that the courtroom is not a place for personal feelings or fears. The law applies to everyone, regardless of their status."

His face turned a bit pale, and I could tell he was trying to find the right words. After a moment, he simply nodded and muttered a quiet, "Understood."

I walked past him, out of the courtroom, where a group of reporters waited eagerly. Their faces lit up the moment they saw me, and their notebooks flipped open in unison.

"Your Honor! A moment, please!" one of them called out, pushing through the crowd. "What message does today's sentencing send to the rest of the empire?"

I paused for a second, knowing full well that whatever I said would be in tomorrow's headlines. I turned to the reporter, looking her straight in the eyes.

"It sends a clear message," I began, my voice unwavering. "No one is above the law. Whether you're a peasant or a noble, justice does not discriminate."

More questions followed, but I didn't linger long. My words were enough, and there would be plenty more to say in the coming days.

As I exited the courthouse, the bright sun stung my eyes for a moment. The fresh air outside felt like a relief after the suffocating tension in the courtroom. The streets were bustling with activity—people going about their lives, unaware of the trial that had just concluded.

I made my way toward my carriage when a familiar voice stopped me.