Fantasy Writers 1860

One of the older bailiffs stepped forward and said in a completely emotionless voice:

"Are you the editor-in-chief of the Morning Star? This is a summons from the St. George Magistrates' Court. Please sign the service receipt and attend the hearing at the time specified on the summons. Please note that if you fail to appear in court on time, the plaintiff may continue the proceedings and a judgment may be rendered in your absence."

As he spoke, he handed Braden a summons issued by a magistrate and a service receipt.

Braden received the order with trembling hands. When he saw the contents, he felt a cold sweat break out on his forehead, his vision went black, and his legs went weak, almost causing him to collapse to the ground.

"Mr. Braden! Mr. Braden!" Several young editors rushed over and caught Braden just as he was about to collapse, preventing him from falling straight to the ground.

The warrant in his hand naturally fell to the ground unattended. When the young editors were holding him up, they also accidentally knocked over many things on the table, which were now crashing to the ground with a clatter.

The two bailiffs seemed to be used to this kind of scene and remained unmoved, only saying coldly, "Either of you is fine, please sign at the service of process section as soon as possible, we still have to deliver other warrants."

Braden felt he could no longer hear what they were saying; all he could hear were clanging and banging noises—the sounds of his newspaper empire shattering.

……

The day of the trial arrived quickly, and Dorian, having nothing better to do, sneaked in to watch.

The reason I remained a bystander was because it was a lawsuit initiated by the Lentinion Weekly, and it had nothing to do with me, a small-time writer.

In fact, he had already fulfilled all the obligations under the contract he initially signed, and theoretically, he should now have no connection with the Lentinion Weekly.

As for the source of all this trouble today, it was all Mr. Hakimi's doing, it was all his book "The Million Pound Note" that stirred it up. What does it have to do with me, Dorian?

Dorian found an inconspicuous spot in the back row of the gallery and sat down, observing the scene inside the courtroom with great interest.

The hall was solemn and dignified. The judge, sitting high on the bench, looked stern. On either side were the seats for the plaintiff and the defendant. The audience was also quite full, mostly reporters from various newspapers.

Dorian even learned after chatting with a few reporters that there were reporters from the newspaper whose boss was now in the dock.

They're so dedicated, they don't even spare their own melons.

The trial began quickly. When Clancy was writing the indictment, he wrote two versions: one against Samuel and the other against the newspapers that had previously taken advantage of the situation to have people block their doors during the protests, as well as those that had previously slandered and smeared the Lentinion Weekly.

Then, based on the provision that "when criminal acts are based on the same facts, or are part of a series of crimes of the same or similar nature, they may be tried together," an application for a combined trial was submitted.

This way, only one trial is needed, greatly reducing litigation costs.

Contrary to Dorian's expectations, there were no passionate debates or dramatic reversals in court. All those Ace Attorney plays he'd seen before were just a joke; nobody was going to throw around the dramatic shouts of "Objection!"

The reality was that both sides' lawyers kept citing dry and tedious precedents and legal provisions, making Dorian drowsy.

"...According to the precedent of Woodley v. 1842, the prerequisite for obtaining property by false pretenses is that the defendant must make a false statement about 'existing facts'; at the same time, citing the conclusion of West v. 1858, a mere promise about future events is insufficient to constitute obtaining property by false pretenses; there must be a false statement about existing facts..."

"My clients never told anyone 'I am a rich man.' They willingly gave money because they themselves wanted to curry favor with a 'rich man.' If this kind of spontaneous sycophancy can be prosecuted as fraud, then half of Lentinion's social circle should be in jail..."

"As for the charge of counterfeiting, it's even more untenable. Looking at the legislative intent itself, the crime of counterfeiting was established to prevent counterfeit money from entering circulation and disrupting the financial order. Samuel's counterfeit money never left him; it should be considered a performance prop. Magicians and theaters also create realistic gold pound props; does that mean they are also counterfeiting...?"

The defense attorney's arguments were so logical that even Dorian felt they made some sense.

Then, the young lawyer hired by Clancy was also an eloquent speaker, refuting each point precisely:

"...According to Section 13 of the Counterfeiting Act of 1851, it is an offence for anyone to purchase, accept, possess, or have possession of any counterfeit banknotes, bank drafts, or bank postal money orders, or blank banknotes. The precedent of Hod v. 1810 clearly states that disposing of counterfeit money with fraudulent intent constitutes an offence, without requiring proof that the counterfeit money was disposed of to a specific person..."

"Magicians and theaters create props with a clear performance purpose, while Samuel's sole purpose in using counterfeit money was clearly to deceive. If he never intended to deceive, why didn't he just throw the counterfeit bill away? We believe that a presumption of fraudulent intent can be made. If someone is found innocent simply because they never used it, then every counterfeiter caught could argue, 'I just collected it, I never intended to spend it'..."

"False statements can also be implied. He implicitly indicates through his actions that he possesses commensurate wealth. The person clearly knows he is deceiving, otherwise he could simply say, 'You've got it wrong, I'm actually penniless,' and all misunderstandings would be cleared up. Why didn't he do that? This can be used to presume that he had a deceptive intent..."

That makes a lot of sense.

Dorian rested his chin on his hand, watching the lawyers go back and forth, and suddenly regretted coming to watch this spectacle.

First of all, it's not lively at all.

Instead of wasting time sitting here, I'd rather go back and think about what to write in my new book.

He began to look at the door that had been closed since the start of the court hearing, pondering what reason he could come up with to leave midway through.

As he stared at the door, he was surprised to find that the door was actually trembling slightly.

Is someone pushing from outside?

At this hour, will anyone still come?

The heavy wooden door was quickly pushed open, and Dorian saw a familiar figure:

It was Inspector Raeder.

"Your Honor, I request a recess. I have brought in a new suspect and the facts of the crime."

Inspector Raed, carrying a small briefcase, walked to the center of the courtroom, stood next to the defendant Samuel, and delivered the following pronouncement in a strong voice.

Upon hearing such a confident announcement, the reporters sitting in the audience perked up; they had long been fed up with the dry legal texts and the dull, tedious arguments.

The judge's expression changed slightly, clearly indicating that he was somewhat displeased.

Even if you have new leads, you shouldn't do it this way. Just submit it according to the normal legal process. Why intrude like this?

You're a detective, how dare you show such contempt for the authority of the law?

The judge clearly knew Inspector Rasde, and it was this acquaintance that made him only slightly displeased, rather than directly ordering him to be dragged out for "contempt of court."

As a detective, knowingly breaking the law should theoretically result in an even more serious crime.

"Your Honor, Samuel is a member of the Immaculate Dawn Order, and the crimes he committed were all instigated by the Immaculate Dawn Order. The Immaculate Dawn Order is the real culprit!"

Inspector Raeder's words shocked everyone present.

Is he a member of the cult? Are the cult the real criminals?

How dare he say such a thing? Could it be that... he really possesses some irrefutable evidence?

There are almost as many who abhor the order as those who are fanatical about it, and both are extreme. Those who believe are extremely fanatical, and those who abhor it are extremely averse.

At the same time, since the official stance has not yet been determined, there is a large market on both sides.

Those who dislike the cult are skeptical of its extreme doctrines, believing that God is merciful and that many sects throughout history have encouraged people to do good, and that divine punishment is a last resort—how well it is ultimately carried out is another matter.

The Dawnless Order is so extreme in its doctrines, advocating destruction and purification, that it has the complete characteristics of a cult. So far, no one has been able to refute the claim that their "miracles" are fake.

The reporters in the gallery immediately realized this was big news and began scribbling furiously in their notebooks.

Upon hearing Inspector Rasde's words, the judge sitting on the bench suddenly changed his expression for some reason.

Before Inspector Raed could even continue, he slammed his gavel down, interrupting him, and shouted angrily at the bailiffs standing on either side of the door:

"You are disrupting court order and in contempt of court! Throw him out! Throw him out!"

Inspector Raeder was somewhat incredulous.

Although he knew that his appearance was against the rules and that his accusations against the Flawless Dawn Order for their crimes would cause a huge uproar, he did not expect the judge to have such a strong reaction.

It was...it was like my defenses had been broken...

Why would he do that?

Could it be... that he also has some shady connection with the cult?

This thought flashed through Reid's mind like lightning.

At the same instant, the judge on the bench realized that he had acted somewhat strangely out of control, and quickly regained his composure.

"What do you take this serious courtroom for? A theater for your one-man show? If you have new evidence and suspects, please follow proper procedures and file a separate prosecution, instead of shouting nonsense here. Bailiffs, remove him from here!"

This time, he deliberately emphasized the word "please" in an attempt to salvage his earlier loss of composure.

Inspector Leeds was immediately grabbed by the arms of two bailiffs, one on each side. He wanted to say something more, but the judge had already lowered his head and started flipping through the documents on the table, looking like he didn't want to listen anymore.

The originally orderly court hearing was completely changed by his disruption.

Everyone's attention was focused on the Immaculate Dawn Order, which was currently at its peak and expanding rapidly. Almost everyone had heard about the mysterious things surrounding them.

Even the lawyers on both sides seemed somewhat distracted. Although they continued to cite classical texts during the subsequent court debates, and the judge and court clerk performed their duties impeccably, there was a sense that they were being perfunctory.

The trial ended hastily in an eerie atmosphere, with the result essentially being a "trial to be held on another day" that yielded no verdict.

The next morning, various tabloids began to hype the story, with front pages filled with sensational headlines such as "Shocking! Heroic Detective Bleeds in Court, Exposing the Flawless Dawn Cult!", "Men Speechless, Women Weep: The Flawless Dawn Cult's Millennium Plan!", "The Biggest Miscarriage of Justice of the Century!", and "Those Who Smear the Flawless Dawn Cult Are Still Smearing!"

This also provides an excellent entry point for the "Operation Clean Reports" that Inspector Rasde had mentioned earlier:

"Sir, our newspaper operates on a small scale and complies with all laws and regulations. Aren't you making things difficult for us?"

"Compliance? The regulations have changed! The paper your newspaper uses doesn't meet the new weight requirements. If you don't rectify the situation within the specified time, your operating license will be revoked!"

"Officer, why are you raising our delivery rates? This will increase our costs, forcing us to raise subscription fees, and many customers will cancel their subscriptions!"

"The new regulations require that any printed materials intended for distribution across counties must provide verifiable records of the factual accuracy of their content and the reliability of the sources of information. Failure to provide such records will result in higher postage rates..."

"Sir, please be lenient with us. We promise to make up the operating guarantee deposit next month. We need time to raise funds..."

"The new regulations stipulate that this payment should be based on the publishing scale and distribution scope you previously registered. With such a large publishing scale, how come you even need to raise this small amount of money? Were your previously registered sales figures all fake?"

"What kind of bullshit new regulations are these! If things continue like this, our newspaper is bound to go bankrupt!"

"If you can't rectify things, then just shut down. There are so many newspapers in Lentinion; if you can't keep going, plenty of others will..."

Such conversations and cries of anguish resounded throughout the entire Lentinion publishing industry.

Ultimately, the task of implementing this matter fell to Scotland Yard.

The younger officers with a better attitude would explain that they were just following orders, saying that the chief inspector had personally given the order, and that the new regulations had to be implemented thoroughly. It was said to be a performance project led by the current cabinet, and it had to have an immediate effect.

The older, more seasoned officers don't care about your complaints or anything; they start by making threats and then each of them uses their own methods to get what they want.

The introduction of this new regulation was inexplicable; no one had received any prior notice, and no one expected the crackdown to be so extensive.

Normally, if the imperial government were to do something like this, it would be labeled as "violating the spirit of the Magna Carta," "undermining democracy," and "violating freedom of speech."

However, the public discourse was unusually quiet this time, almost abnormally so.