Lord: My Shop Connects to Modern Times

Early morning, at the square of Gray Rock Town.

The wooden platform for the public trial has been set up, and it's more formal than what was said at yesterday's meeting—Sorin and his men reinforced the platform overnight, and also erected wooden pillars on both sides and hung two burlap banners.

Although it was simple, the atmosphere of "this matter is very important" was already there.

There were more people gathered below the stage than expected. Most of them had heard by word of mouth that a "trial" was being held there, so many people came to join in the fun.

Almost all the original residents of Gray Rock Town came, and the newly arrived residents of Ironstone Fortress also crowded at the front. Even farmers from several surrounding expanded villages came upon hearing the news, standing on the periphery of the crowd and craning their necks to look.

Lynn roughly estimated that there were at least five hundred people.

He knew in his heart that probably not many of these people truly cared about "judicial fairness".

Many more people came to watch the spectacle, or rather, to see how the lord would deal with his enemies—those soldiers who had participated in the attack on Grayrock Town, and those tax collectors who had oppressed them in Ironstone Fortress.

But this is just the beginning. Let them see for themselves, so they can understand that there are rules for doing things here.

As you see and hear more, the rules will gradually take root in your heart.

Leon, accompanied by his musketeers, brought the prisoners onto the platform.

More than thirty people were lined up in three rows, their hands and feet bound with hemp rope, but they weren't wearing shackles—Grey Rock Town didn't have that kind of equipment yet.

Their expressions varied: some looked dejected, some tried to appear calm, and some had wandering eyes, as if searching for an acquaintance in the audience who could say a word for them.

Lynn walked onto the wooden platform, followed by Herbert, Joel, and two representatives of the people who had been temporarily elected the night before—one was Gorm, the oldest miner in Grayrock Town, and the other was a middle-aged peasant woman from Ironstone Fortress whose husband had his leg broken by Gavin's tax collector last year and was still lame.

Lynn had carefully considered the matter of selecting a representative from each of the two territories—it was a more humane approach and a more vivid way of considering things from the perspective of the people.

The audience gradually quieted down. All eyes were fixed on the stage.

Lynn picked up the megaphone. He didn't speak immediately, but first scanned the crowd below the stage, then looked at the prisoners on the stage, and finally his gaze fell on the thick list of charges.

"Here today," his voice boomed through the loudspeaker, steady and clear: "a public trial for the crimes of these thirty-seven men."

He paused, letting his words reach everyone's ears.

"The trial will follow these rules: First, the charges and evidence against each person will be read aloud in public. Second, each person will be allowed to present their defense. Third, the jury—the four behind me—will deliberate and make sentencing recommendations. Fourth, I will make the final decision. Everyone can watch and listen to the entire process."

Some people in the audience were whispering among themselves.

This format is so novel—in the past, when noblemen judged cases, they would either close the doors in the castle or announce who would be hanged directly in the square. Why would it be so complicated?

Lynn ignored the gossip and nodded to Joel.

Joel stepped forward and opened the roster.

His hands were trembling slightly; this was the first time in his life that he had read something aloud in front of so many people.

He took a deep breath, calmed himself, and spoke in a relatively steady voice:

"First, Hank. Former deputy captain of Viscount Gavin's guard. Charge: Commanding a squad in the Second Battle of Grayrock, killing three Grayrock militiamen. Evidence: Knight Leon and three militiamen present identified him, and the captured arrows bore his personal markings."

The middle-aged man with a fierce face was pushed to the front of the stage.

He is Hank, a ruthless character under Gavin, who was said to be a bully in Ironstone Castle.

Lynn looked at him: "Hank, what do you have to say in your defense?"

Hank raised his head, a mocking smile playing on his lips: "Plead your case? I'll kill them if I want, those lowly commoners..."

"Watch your words." Lynn interrupted him, her tone suddenly becoming imposing, her voice turning cold: "This is a trial, not a place for you to run wild."

Hank was taken aback, seemingly not expecting the young lord to be so direct.

He gritted his teeth: "Hmph! Nothing to say. Kill me if you want."

The residents of Grayrock Town below the stage erupted in angry shouts. Someone yelled:

"He killed my brother!"

"Hang him!"

Lynn raised his hand, signaling for silence.

Then he looked at the jury: "What are your opinions?"

Herbert was the first to speak, his tone calm but firm: "The evidence is conclusive, and the person shows no remorse. I recommend execution."

Joel nodded. "Agreed."

The representative of the people of Ironstone Castle trembled slightly—she remembered the day her husband's leg was broken, when the tax collector had the same arrogant expression.

She took a deep breath: "I agree to the execution."

All four votes passed.

Lynn looked at Hank: "Hank, you are guilty of intentional homicide and sentenced to death by hanging, to be carried out immediately."

Two musketeers stepped forward.

Hank didn't say anything this time, he just stared at Lynn until he was dragged off the stage and taken to the newly erected gallows in the corner of the square.

The crowd watched, holding their breath. A rope was placed around his neck, the gallows snapped, and he plummeted to his death. A muffled thud.

There was neither cheering nor cursing.

Most people just watched in silence as the once high and mighty captain of the guard hung on a rope like a dead dog.

Lynn knew in her heart that this scene was very important.

It tells everyone: Here, murder is punishable by death. No matter who you are.

The trial continues.

The subsequent process was the same, and according to some of the legal rules temporarily formulated by Lynn, different sentences were imposed on people for different crimes.

Those who committed heinous crimes, like Hank, were executed on the spot. Those whose crimes were less serious were given "compulsory labor," either sent to the mines or thrown into road construction, for varying lengths of time.

Lynn even promised them that if they behaved well and were reformed, they could even become a glorious member of the community.

It can be said that he used the methods he used to deal with criminals in his previous life very thoroughly.

In the latter half of the trial, a young soldier was brought in.

His name was Thomas, and he was forced to join the army in order to exempt his seriously ill mother from taxes.

After Joel finished reading the charges—participation in transporting supplies, no direct combat record—an old woman from Ironforge in the audience shouted, "His mother is really sick! I can testify!"

Thomas knelt on the stage, tears streaming down his face: "Sir, I...I really didn't mean to harm anyone..."

The jury discussed the matter in hushed tones.

Herbert said, "The circumstances are special, so a lighter sentence may be given."

The Ironstone Fortress representative hesitated: "But what if every soldier says they were forced to serve..."

Suddenly, someone in the audience raised their hand. It was a militiaman from Gray Rock Town, his arm still wrapped in bandages—a wound he sustained during the Second Battle.

"Sir, may I say something?"

Lynn nodded.

The militiamen stepped onto the stage, somewhat nervous, but their tone was earnest:

"During the second attack, I was on duty at the west wall. I did see a young man pushing a cart. When the arrows came, he... he pushed the cart away and hid behind it. He didn't shoot arrows at us."

He paused for a moment: "I'm not trying to excuse him, but... he might really not have intended to kill anyone."

The audience fell silent.

Lynn looked at Thomas: "Do you have anything to add?"

Thomas shook his head, crying, "I...I'm just afraid of dying...I can't die, sir! If I die, my mother won't live! You can punish me however you want, just please let my mother have something to eat..."

The audience fell silent.

The pleas of the Grayrock soldiers and Thomas's reasons made the trial a little more humane.

That's just how this era is. There are many things, many events, that people can't choose for themselves. Lynn understood this very well. This is the tragedy of the times, and also the tragedy of this young man.

But the rules are there: a public trial is not a one-man show, and the final verdict still needs to be based on the opinion of this provisional jury.

This discussion lasted longer.

Finally, Herbert, the representative, stated: "Given his age, the circumstances of his forced military service, the absence of direct harm, and the corroborating evidence of his battlefield conduct, a lenient sentence is recommended. He is sentenced to one year of community service in Grayrock, receiving normal wages to support his mother. Upon completion of his service, his performance will determine whether he will be granted permanent residency."

Lynn nodded: "Agreed. Thomas, carry out this judgment."

No one objected again, and the people in the audience showed expressions of understanding.

Thomas was stunned, then he kowtowed frantically until his forehead turned red.

As the two musketeers helped him up and led him off the stage, he kept saying "Thank you, sir."

Many people in the audience were moved. Especially the new residents of Ironstone Fortress—they had seen too many noble lords treat human life with contempt, and this was the first time they had seen a trial and a verdict like this.

The trial lasted until noon.

All 37 people have been tried: five were executed, 20 were sentenced to forced labor, eight were sentenced to community service, and four were released. All of them had committed particularly minor crimes and behaved well.

At the end, Lynn stood on the stage again.

The sun was high overhead, and the sunlight was a bit dazzling.

"The trial is over for today," he said. "But that's not what I wanted to say."

He looked at the sea of ​​people below the stage: "What I want to say is that from today onwards, the justice system in Grayrock Town—including Ironstone Fortress—will operate according to this rule. All crimes will be prosecuted, but sentences will be measured. Appeals will be permitted, and evidence will be valued. Whether you are a citizen, a soldier, or myself, you must abide by this rule."

He paused, letting everyone hear his next sentence:

"There are no special privileges or protections here. Everyone is the same, even me."

Lynn spoke with great resolve, and in fact, he did intend to put it into practice, at least within his territory.

Leading by example and winning the hearts of the people is a timeless truth.

The crowd remained silent; almost no nobleman would say such a thing to them.

It was a very novel feeling, I couldn't quite put my finger on it, but there was something vaguely stirring in my heart.

After the public trial ended, in the distance, the body on the gallows had been taken down and buried.

The crowd in the square gradually dispersed, but the discussions continued—about the trial, about the rules, about this unusual lord.

Lynn walked toward the lord's stone castle.

There's still a lot to do: the city hall's charter needs to be refined, Ivan's gunpowder research needs to be followed up, and Roland in Ironstone Castle needs support...

In the system interface, the public opinion value jumped a little more.

Lynn looked up at the sky.

The sky was cloudless; it was a beautiful day.