Adjudication

At eight in the morning the following day, led by an escort of armed patrol vehicles, a motorcade drove straight out from the constabulary headquarters toward the Yangzhi City Tribunal. The students of Wuyi had received word in advance. Deeply invested in the matter, they had gathered early before the Tribunal on Canglin Boulevard in the southern district. Among them were not only new students, but also alumni who had graduated years ago. All wore the formal uniform of Wuyi Academy, standing in silence across the plaza before the Tribunal. Seen from afar, they formed a dense, dark expanse. The invisible aura radiating from these fighters exerted an immense, suffocating pressure. The spectacle drew a massive crowd of onlookers from among the city's residents. Not daring to draw too close, they watched from a distance. Constables had arrived ahead of time, stringing up barricade lines and stationing guards every few meters along both sides of the street, stretching all the way to the end of the road. At eight fifteen, as the sun climbed high, the constabulary motorcade arrived before the Tribunal. When one of the armored specialty cars came to a steady stop, the door opened, and Chen Chuan stepped out. He was dressed in his usual formal suit, though he had not brought the Xuejun Saber this time. With his weapons license, he could theoretically carry it anywhere except government administrative offices, but considering the reputation currently preceding him, it was better not to provoke certain people needlessly. He looked toward the Tribunal ahead. Under the sunlight, the building stood solemn and imposing. Yet because this affair involved so many people and factions—drawing in nearly the entire upper crust of Yangzhi City—the Tribunal itself could not play a decisive role. Its primary purpose was to provide a venue, serve as an observer, announce the final verdict, and go through the motions of an ostensibly lawful procedure. Chen Chuan saw the Wuyi students who had gathered spontaneously on the plaza. Beside him, the deputy sent by Guan Yuming said, "Young Brother Chen, let's head in." Chen Chuan nodded. Flanked by an escort of constables, he ascended the steps and entered the Tribunal's foyer. After straightening his clothes in front of a mirror, he walked into the main hall. As he stepped inside, a telegraph operator in a nearby building was transmitting a message. It was routed across the region, decoded by a receiving clerk, and handed to Commissioner Cao, who was seated inside a vehicle. After reading it, Cao said, "Understood. Keep monitoring." "Yes, sir!" Cao looked out the window. The passing scenery flashed by in a blur. On the National Boulevard, the motorcade was speeding straight toward Yangzhi City. Inside the Tribunal, Chen Chuan entered the main hall, walking up an inclined ramp that cut through the gallery benches toward the front. Many seats on either side were already filled. The people sitting there directed glares of hostility, disgust, and hatred at him, laced with wariness and scrutiny. According to Gao Ming, not only would the families of the thirty-seven students be present, but Municipal Administration councilors, members of Wuyi Academy's board of trustees, and government officials would also attend. In addition, various local dignitaries and respected figures with no direct stake in the matter were seated as observers. In the center of the tribunal sat the judge, wearing the black-and-red robes of office. His hair was impeccably groomed, and he wore round-lensed spectacles secured by a gold chain, presenting a cultured, refined air. Chen Chuan went straight to the respondent's dock on the judge's right. The platform was elevated and isolated, setting him apart from everyone else, though it afforded him a clear view of most people in the hall. Scanning the room, he spotted Bureau Director Lei and Vice Director Guan, whom he hadn't seen earlier, as well as Wuyi instructors Bian Feng and Yue Hong. Sitting with them were a few others whose expressions were stern and whose composed, heavy presence marked them as well-trained fighters—likely from the Disposal Bureau. Because those present were Yangzhi City's elites and dignitaries, tedious formalities were waived. Once everyone had arrived and taken their seats, the tribunal judge picked up a small brass gavel and struck the base of the xiezhi statue before him. A sharp, resonant chime rang across the entire hall. When all eyes turned to him, he declared, "This tribunal convenes today to adjudicate the case of the former Li'an Machinery factory. Complainant and respondent, please read your statements." The constabulary and the Esoteric Cult Examination Bureau had already submitted the materials they had gathered. The evidence this time was abundant, especially since Tan Wang was alive and could provide ample testimony and proof. This was something the patrician families were aware of too, and they had prepared extensively. They had reached a consensus: if they could not completely absolve everyone, they would hand over a few expendable scapegoats, but they had to portray the influential scions present at the factory as victims of deception. If things went smoothly, they could even turn the tables and accuse Chen Chuan of colluding with the esoteric cult, recasting the aggressors as the victims. Representatives for the respondent and the complainant took the floor in turn to read their stances and arguments. Neither was a solicitor; they were tribunal staff whose duty was merely to recite the statements without engaging in any pleading. The audience listened in silence. The case centered on Chen Chuan, yet the various parties harbored divergent interests. For the constabulary and the Esoteric Cult Examination Bureau, it was a question of whether they could use Chen Chuan as a lead to investigate the matter thoroughly. The Disposal Bureau, on the other hand, intended to use this incident to weaken or shatter the entrenched bloc of recommended students, thereby curbing the patrician families' influence over the academy. Yet the prerequisite for achieving this was to protect Chen Chuan and establish the righteousness of his actions; otherwise, none of their subsequent plans could even begin. As for the influential families, their goal was the exact opposite. Permitting someone who had killed their heirs to escape guilt and walk away scot-free would not only be a humiliation, but an actual decline in power, signaling that they could no longer maintain their traditional dominance. In the future, driven by self-preservation, they might turn on one another, and more and more outsiders would join the pack tearing into them. They had prepared thoroughly, starting by swaying a large number of Consultative Council members to their side to influence the Municipal Administration. That way, top-down pressure could be brought against the three departments: the Constabulary, the Esoteric Bureau, and the Disposal Bureau. However, though these councilors were deeply entangled with the aristocratic factions and seemed to hold the upper hand, things were not quite so simple. The Esoteric Cult Examination Bureau, the Disposal Bureau, and the Constabulary were the three government departments that possessed independent armed force and the greatest deterrent power locally. Since local civilian authorities did not control military power, the Municipal Administration had to weigh the opinions of these departments heavily. Therefore, if they wished to suppress the incident and achieve their goals, they needed an ostensibly justifiable cause and reasoning that aligned with the laws and conventions of the Republic of Great Shun. Forcing it through sheer executive power would not only fail to keep a lid on things, but also breed deeper conflicts, and they could forget about ever gaining the cooperation of these agencies again. Considering that cultists, resistance organizations, and armed groups operated outside, the elites relied on the cooperation of these potent agencies—sometimes for their very lives. They could not afford to act recklessly. Thus, the proper procedures had to be observed. By now, the representatives of both parties had concluded their lengthy statements. Next, the families of the deceased took the stand. Those who stepped forward were the elderly and women from these families. They recounted heartwarming and touching anecdotes about the "victims," relating every detail with heartfelt emotion. As their grief overcame them, they broke into weeping and lamentations, moving many in the gallery. Quiet sobs rippled through the audience below. The tribunal judge watched in silence from the bench. When their statements finished, he turned to Chen Chuan and asked routinely, "Respondent Chen Chuan, the complainants accuse you of killing thirty-seven students at the former Li'an Machinery factory in Xigang District on the night of the twentieth. Do you admit this?" This was mere formality. Normally, a respondent would deny the charges, after which solicitors from both sides would step up to argue before the court. Given the complexity of the case and the many factions involved, it promised to be an arduous, drawn-out process. Yet he never expected that after such a question, Chen Chuan would look back with complete composure and say, "I killed them. All thirty-seven of them were killed by me that night." The judge was taken aback. He hadn't anticipated Chen Chuan admitting it so readily. Still, that was not the crucial issue; denying the act was nearly impossible anyway. What mattered was the justification for the killings. He pressed on: "Then before and during the killings, were you coerced by any party, or manipulated by an esoteric cult ritual, which led you to commit these homicides?" Chen Chuan answered calmly, "No. I killed them entirely of my own free will. I was under no duress, nor was I influenced by any esoteric ritual." As soon as the words left his mouth, an uproar erupted in the gallery. "Murderer!" "Murderer!" Finally, someone shot up in agitation and shrieked, "My boy was obedient and honest! He was always so filial to his parents! He was just a child, still a child... Why did you kill him? Why?!" Chen Chuan turned his gaze over and said, "Because he deserved to die." Caught in that gaze, the person began to tremble uncontrollably. "You... you..." Chen Chuan looked at the benches, his eyes sweeping across every person seated there, and said earnestly, "Every single one of them deserved to die. They attempted to control me through an esoteric ritual, but they failed. Afterward, they opened fire on me. To defend myself, I had no choice but to kill them all." "Intent? How can you presume to judge their intent?" An angry, righteous outcry came from below. "Even if they fired at you, that gave you no right to slaughter them! You had no authority! You murderer!" "As a matter of fact..." Chen Chuan looked at him. "I did have that authority." As he spoke, he reached into his coat pocket. That single movement sent a wave of tension through the room; several people nearly cried out for security. The tribunal judge tensed as well. He knew Chen Chuan was a fighter who had wiped out dozens of armed Wuyi students and security guards in a single breath. If the youth went berserk here, even with security present, being so close would be perilous. He blurted out, "Student Chen, what are you doing? If there is something you need to retrieve, our staff can fetch it for you." "I am merely showing you my authority," Chen Chuan said calmly. He withdrew his hand slowly. In his fingers was a card, which he raised forward for everyone to see. It was a jade card of deep teal-black, overlaid with cinnabar-like crimson cloud patterns that closely resembled spilled blood. Given the distance, some could not make out what it was. But those in the front rows saw it clearly. Someone recognized it and gasped: "An unlimited defense license?!" The judge stared fixedly. Adjusting his glasses, he looked at Chen Chuan and murmured an addition: "...and it's a Grade B certificate..." Chen Chuan's steady, powerful voice echoed across the courtroom: "You asked if I had the authority. I tell you that I did. This is the legitimate right of defense granted to me by the government of the Republic of Great Shun. The moment I perceive that someone is persecuting me, or that my life is in danger, I obtain the right of unlimited defense. Therefore... I eliminated every threatening target within sight, leaving not a single one alive!" Silence fell over the courtroom, broken only by the long reverberation of his final words. Many stared at Chen Chuan in dread, some with hands trembling slightly, unsure whether it was from the shock of the revelation or from something else entirely. "An unlimited defense license? How could he possibly have an unlimited defense license?! It's fake! It must be fake!" Someone below immediately challenged the claim, igniting another roar of commotion. The judge raised his gavel and struck it down. The loud clang immediately cut through the clamor. He looked toward Chen Chuan and said, "Student Chen, in the interest of justice and fairness, permit me to examine the defense license in your hand." Chen Chuan nodded. "You may." The judge stepped down from the bench, took the card from Chen Chuan's hands, and inspected it. "It is authentic. The material, the serial number, and the name all match. Furthermore... it is indeed a Grade B certificate." When he spoke those words, a dead silence gripped the benches. The faces of many patrician family members turned pale, and they slumped weakly in their seats. They knew that with this license, unless a person was caught in flagrante delicto or confronted with overwhelmingly damning evidence, conviction was practically impossible. Wei Hang could not help but close his eyes, knowing the outcome they least wished to see had come to pass. They had considered this possibility beforehand, even if the odds seemed vanishingly low. Yet they could never have stopped simply because of that suspicion—could they have willingly dropped the matter? Thus, even if Chen Chuan truly possessed an unlimited defense license, this step had to be taken. Only now, it was impossible to use public legal proceedings to see Chen Chuan condemned to death. Still, Wei Hang had another option—though it was a path from which there would be no turning back once taken. He looked toward the young man seated beside him, who nodded back. Leaning on his walking stick, Wei Hang rose to his feet. "Tribunal Judge, ladies and gentlemen present—I have something to say."