Chapter 105 : Chapter 105
Chapter 105. Revoking Immunity
“All right then.”
Logaris waved a hand grandly.
“All expenses are covered. Go pick them out yourself. However, the bulky, crude type used by the Personal Guard does not suit you.”
He walked deeper into the workshop, stopped in front of a wall, and pressed his hand against a rune stone panel.
Bzz—
The wall slowly slid open to both sides.
Several humanoid suits of armor stood neatly arranged inside.
Unlike the heavy models worn by Akash and the others outside, these suits were clearly slimmer and more elongated.
Their streamlined shells were a matte dark gray, and there were no exposed mechanical structures at the joints.
Instead, the joints were covered by a layer of black flexible material that looked like muscle fibers.
“This is the ‘Night Owl.’”
Logaris patted one of the suits on the shoulder.
“It is a prototype that has not entered mass production yet. It sacrifices about thirty percent of its frontal defensive power in exchange for extreme mobility and near-silent performance. It also has many solidified spellworks built in to enhance mobility and explosive burst capability.”
He turned to look at the old men, who had remained silent the entire time.
“I think this suits the tastes of you seniors much better.”
The former Judicators, who had been pretending to act aloof until now, were visibly moved.
What aloofness?
What composure?
Faced with those steel creations overflowing with mechanical beauty and brutal aesthetics, all of that had gone straight to the dogs.
The old man in the lead threw away his cane and moved with the agility of an eighteen-year-old youth, rushing to the “Night Owl” in two quick steps.
His trembling hand stroked the cold surface of the armor.
“These lines… this texture…”
The old man took a deep breath, and an intoxicated expression appeared on his face.
“It is as smooth as touching the thigh of a first love.”
Cicero: “...”
Sylvia: “...”
Half an hour later.
In the open ground outside the workshop.
“Hah!”
With a sharp shout, one Night Owl vanished from where it stood in an instant.
Only a blurred afterimage remained in the air.
In the next second, it appeared beside a massive boulder twenty meters away, and its mechanical right arm, already fully charged, blasted out like a heavy cannon.
Boom!
The granite boulder, half the height of a man, exploded into flying fragments.
“Fantastic!”
The visor of the armor opened, revealing the ecstatic face of that wrinkled old man.
He rolled his neck, producing a series of crisp cracks.
“It has been a long time since I felt like this… My waist does not ache anymore, my legs do not hurt anymore, and climbing five floors in one breath does not feel tiring at all!”
The power of Magitech perfectly compensated for the weakness brought on by the aging of the flesh.
“Oh, right.”
Logaris seemed to remember something.
He picked up a letter from the workbench and handed it to Cicero.
“This is for your daughter.”
Cicero froze for a moment, then was overjoyed.
It was a recommendation letter from Saint Arcadia Academy!
And judging by the gilded wax seal on the envelope, this was absolutely a handwritten recommendation from a professor-level figure, carrying enormous weight.
“I took the time to visit the little girl at the estate earlier.”
Logaris spoke casually.
“As for talent… it is only so-so.”
Cicero’s heart tightened slightly.
“But she has a good brain and strong logical thinking.”
Logaris changed the direction of the conversation.
“If she does not follow the path of a pure spellcaster and instead specializes in magitech structures or rune analysis, she might become an associate professor someday.”
As he spoke, he tossed over another heavy package.
“This is an introductory textbook I compiled myself, along with a few little magitech gadgets for practice. Let her take them apart and play with them when she has free time. Do not let her spend all day reading those knight novels about love and romance. That kind of trash ruins the brain.”
Cicero accepted the package, and his eyes grew a little hot.
“Boss.”
Cicero carefully tucked the recommendation letter into an inner pocket close to his body, and for the first time ever, his expression became utterly serious.
“Tonight, I guarantee I will come up with a proper set of regulatory proposals!”
…
Late at night.
The study in the Lord’s Manor was brightly lit.
The huge oak desk was covered with densely packed blueprints and documents.
That was the judicial reform blueprint Cicero had spent the entire night rebuilding in accordance with the current state of the Northern Territory.
“Ruthless.”
Sylvia looked at one of the drafts in her hand.
Even a ruthless politician like her could not help inhaling sharply.
[Special Act on the Revocation of Noble Judicial Immunity]
Every one of those words carried a bloody killing intent.
In the Astrelia Kingdom, when nobles broke the law, they were not punished the same way as commoners.
A commoner who stole a loaf of bread could have a hand chopped off.
But if a noble killed someone, all he had to do was pay a fine and spend a few days repenting in church, and nothing would happen to him.
That was what they called “immunity.”
It was also the strongest cornerstone of the old order.
Now, Cicero intended to smash that cornerstone to pieces with a great hammer.
“You want to abolish immunity directly?”
Sylvia pointed at one of the clauses, her brows slightly furrowed.
“That will force all the nobles into rebellion immediately. Normally, should the method not be to raise the threshold for ‘atonement payments’? For example, increasing it from one hundred gold coins to ten thousand gold coins, and thereby draining their wealth dry?”
“That is a merchant’s method, not a judge’s method.”
Cicero shook his head, and a rare cold hardness appeared in his eyes.
“Your Highness, you must understand that the most terrifying thing about the law is not severity, but certainty.”
“If the death penalty can be bought off with money, whether for one hundred thousand or one million gold coins, then in the eyes of the nobility, human life remains a commodity that can be given a price.”
A trace of cold light flashed through Cicero’s eyes.
Only at times like this did he truly resemble an official from the Homomorphic Court.
“As long as there is a first precedent of ‘buying a life with money,’ there will be a second.”
“When that time comes, the judges responsible for verdicts will waver, the treasury officials receiving the money will become greedy, and the law will once again become a toy in the hands of the powerful. It will merely have changed from a cheap toy into an expensive toy.”
Cicero stood up and braced both hands on the desk, leaning forward.
The iron-blooded presence he had forged in the Homomorphic Court came pressing forth.
“So my proposal is this—cut it off in one stroke.”
“For lesser crimes, fines are acceptable, and they should be massive fines. Fine them until their flesh hurts. Fine them until they are forced to sell off their ancestral property. That is called a ‘tiered punitive tax.’”
“But.”
Cicero raised one finger, and his tone was utterly decisive.
“For serious crimes involving human life, blood must be paid with blood. No matter who it is, no matter how much money he has, a murderer must pay with his life.”
“That is the bottom line. It is also the cornerstone of the new order. Only when the nobility realizes that even total bankruptcy cannot buy back their heads will they truly learn reverence.”
“As for that Viscount Gleiman…”
Cicero bared his white teeth in a grim smile.
“For assaulting a judicial official and attempting to murder the family members of a government officer, under the new law, that constitutes ‘a severe crime endangering national security,’ though in the attempted form. He may escape death, but he certainly will not escape punishment.”
“In that case, confiscate all of his property into the public treasury, strip him of his title, and exile him to the border for twenty years. As for what happens if he cannot produce the money? Under the [Joint Liability Act], should his father, that logistics department chief administrator, not be subjected to a proper audit?”
Vicious.
But also righteous enough.
Looking at this great lawyer, who usually appeared greedy and slippery, and seeing the fire of justice burning in his eyes at this moment, Sylvia suddenly understood why Reynard thought so highly of him.
Only this kind of almost obsessive devotion to principle could build a true order.
A cold curve slowly rose at the corner of Sylvia’s lips.
She picked up the Governor’s seal from the desk.
That heavy seal glimmered with a metallic sheen under the lamplight.
Smack!
A crisp sound rang out.
The bright red seal imprint left an indelible mark on the document.