Chapter 104 : Chapter 104
Chapter 104. A Man’s Romance
The entire place fell deathly silent.
Only the howling of the cold wind could be heard.
Viscount Gleiman sat on the ground with his mouth hanging open wide enough to fit a fist, his eyes bulging so hard they nearly popped out.
Chief Judicator?
That man who had stepped out of the carriage?
How was that even possible?
Captain Akash paid no attention to the horrified stares around him.
He extended that massive mechanical hand and presented a parchment scroll tied with a golden ribbon in his palm before Cicero.
His voice rang out loud and clear across the entire city gate.
“By the order of Her Highness Sylvia Van Astrelia, Acting Governor of the Northern Territory!”
“Mr. Cicero is hereby appointed Chief Judicator of the Northern Territory!”
“He is to assume office immediately and take full charge of judicial trials, public order rectification, and the establishment of special courts throughout the Northern Territory!”
That string of titles was like a series of explosive bombs, leaving everyone present with their minds buzzing.
Cicero accepted the letter of appointment without expression and did not even bother to give it a second glance.
He merely brushed the snowflakes from it lightly, then turned around and let his gaze pass over the crowd before settling on Viscount Gleiman, who was sprawled on the ground.
That gaze was calm.
It was like looking at a dead bug that had already been crushed underfoot.
“You are Viscount Gleiman, correct?”
Cicero’s voice was not loud, but in the dead silence, every word entered everyone’s ears with perfect clarity.
“Just now, you said you were going to arrest my entire family?”
Viscount Gleiman shuddered violently.
It was as if all the bones had been pulled from his body.
His trousers were instantly soaked, and the stench of urine spread through the air.
“A m-misunderstanding! My lord! This is a misunderstanding!”
He scrambled forward on all fours, trying to throw himself at Cicero’s legs, but a suit of Powered Armor stretched out an arm to stop him, and the cold muzzle of a gun pressed directly against his forehead.
“My lord! I was blind! I am a bastard! Please, for my father’s sake…”
With snot and tears running down his face, Viscount Gleiman kowtowed frantically, smashing his forehead against the snow until blood streamed down.
Cicero frowned slightly, as if he found the noise irritating.
He took out a spotless white handkerchief, covered his nose, and stepped back.
That gesture of disgust was more insulting than any curse.
“Your father’s sake?”
Cicero smiled.
It was a very cold smile.
“Very well. According to Article One of the former [Northern Territory Public Order Administration Punishment Act], assaulting an active-duty judicial official and attempting to murder the family members of a government officer—”
“Captain Akash.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Arrest him. Also, inform the Tax Department and the Inspectorate. Since this Viscount is apparently so wealthy that he can claim even the road at the city gate belongs to his family, they should conduct a thorough audit of the accounts of his father, the chief administrator of the logistics department.”
“Yes, sir!”
Two members of the Personal Guard stepped forward and dragged away the now-terrified Viscount Gleiman like a dead dog.
“No! Don’t! Spare me, my lord! I was wrong! I was truly wrong!”
His screams gradually faded into the distance.
Cicero adjusted his collar, then turned and nodded to the old men.
“You have all worked hard, seniors. Extra dishes for dinner tonight.”
Then he bent down, picked up his curious-looking daughter, and said gently, “Come on, darling. We’ve arrived at our new home.”
Escorted by the steel giants, the black carriage slowly rolled into the inner city.
All it left behind was a crowd of stunned onlookers who still had not recovered from the shock, along with the private soldiers groaning all over the ground, silently proclaiming—
The sky over the Northern Territory was about to change.
…
White Stone Avenue, Administrative Center of Winter City.
A black carriage with no family crest whatsoever slowly rolled into a magnificent estate under the escort of the steel guard.
This was the relocation site specially approved by Princess Sylvia.
There was a sentry every five steps and a guard post every ten.
Even a fly would have to verify its “identity” before it could hope to fly inside.
“Wow—!”
Emily pressed herself against the carriage window with her little face against the glass, her sapphire-like eyes filled with amazement.
“Daddy, the snowmen here are so big!”
Cicero followed the direction of his daughter’s finger and looked over.
Those were not snowmen at all.
They were two Magitech Puppets carrying out routine patrols, each as tall as a two-story building and clad from head to toe in heavy frost armor.
Every step they took made the ground tremble faintly.
“Those are the Princess’s big toys for protection.”
Cicero rubbed his daughter’s head, and his gaze softened.
“If Emily wants to see them later, Uncle Logaris can take you up for a ride.”
“Really?”
“When has Daddy ever lied to you?”
After settling his wife and daughter in, Cicero confirmed that the security level inside and outside the estate was exactly as Logaris had promised—so tight that not even a mosquito could fly into the bedroom alive.
Only then did he truly let out a sigh of relief.
The stone that had been hanging over his heart finally fell away.
A man with no worries behind him was the most terrifying kind of man.
“Come on, old friends.”
Cicero adjusted his collar and turned to the elderly men standing behind him, their hair already graying though their backs were still perfectly straight.
“Let’s go meet the boss.”
…
Private Alchemy Workshop, Lord’s Manor.
The atmosphere here was completely different from the solemn grandeur outside.
Scattered parts were everywhere, beakers bubbled with strange liquids, and the air was filled with the smells of burning and metal.
“So, you did it on purpose?”
Logaris tossed the wrench in his hand onto the table and looked at Cicero, who was leisurely drinking tea in front of him.
“Of course.”
Cicero set down his teacup and pushed up his gold-rimmed glasses, wearing that signature flawless professional smile.
“A new official takes office and must light three fires. If those fires fail to burn, then later on, this bunch of nobles will think I came here to beg for scraps.”
He pointed out the window.
“Viscount Gleiman was a perfect target. Stupid, wicked, and rich. And that father of his, the chief administrator of the logistics department, is an even bigger barrel of grease.”
“Using him as the first example would let me establish my authority, replenish the treasury, and conveniently test your bottom line as well.”
“Test our bottom line?”
Sylvia sat in a high-backed chair, idly playing with an exquisite feather pen in her hand as she looked at him with interest.
“That’s right.”
Cicero admitted it openly.
“I wanted to see whether the two of you would sacrifice a mere hired hand like me for the greater good when faced with the trampling of ‘noble dignity.’”
“And the result?”
“The result satisfied me greatly.”
Cicero pointed at the Powered Armors standing guard by the door.
“I have to say, Captain Akash looked very impressive.”
Logaris and Sylvia exchanged a glance.
This man was an old fox.
But he was exactly the kind of old fox they needed.
“All right, the work report is over.”
Cicero suddenly changed his entire demeanor.
The sharp and capable aura from just moments ago vanished instantly, replaced by a kind of almost fawning fanaticism.
Rubbing his hands together, he stared at a discarded armor model in the corner with shining eyes.
That look was even more affectionate than the way he looked at his own wife.
“Well… Boss.”
The way he said “Boss” was astonishingly smooth.
“Those iron shells that escorted me just now… ahem, I mean those suits of armor.”
Cicero swallowed.
“Could you perhaps… get a few sets for my bodyguard team too?”
Logaris raised a brow.
“What do you want those for? Those are military assault equipment. Are you planning to wear them to court? Do you also need a Magic Burst Gun to go with them?”
“Well, wouldn’t that make our judicial department look imposing?”
Cicero immediately began talking nonsense.
“Think about it. In the future, when we go confiscate those nobles’ property, if we dress too ordinarily, people will think some gang of hooligans showed up. But if we wear those…”
He made an exaggerated gesture.
“Just standing there would be enough. We would not even need to say a word before those nobles would piss themselves! That is what you call deterrence! That is what you call judicial dignity! That is what you call… a man’s romance!”
That last sentence was the real point, was it not?
Logaris found Cicero’s pathetic excitement rather amusing.
Who would have thought that this former clerical officer of the Homomorphic Court was secretly a full-blown mecha fanatic?