Chapter 4: The Verdict

  Courtroom No. 505 was designated for Criminal Case No. 445/50 — York City District Prosecutor v. Antonio Marcelo. The hallway outside was overflowing with onlookers and reporters. It was clear that this case had attracted significant public attention in York City.

  Nicholas paused to check the notice board at the entrance of the courtroom. There was only one case scheduled for today. He had studied the file thoroughly and prepared as best he could. The only thing left to do was wait for the appointed hour —and for Antonio.

  Before leaving home, he attempted to contact Antonio through the phone number provided in the case file, but since no one answered, he could only head to the court by himself.

  Just as he was about to enter the courtroom, Nicholas noticed a figure moving through the crowd, surrounded by a group of bodyguards. Antonio was dressed in a white suit with a black bow tie at his collar, and a faint smile on his face. A thin mustache rested neatly above his upper lip.

  He was speaking with another well-dressed man who appeared to be a noble. Many reporters followed closely behind them, attempting to secure an interview — but Antonio ignored them completely.

  When Antonio reached the courtroom entrance, Nicholas stepped forward to greet him as any lawyer would greet his client. The instant their eyes met, Antonio froze. His eyes widened, and the color drained from his face. For a brief second, he looked as though he had forgotten how to breathe.

  Nicholas frowned inwardly. There was no reason for a man to look so terrified at the sight of his own lawyer… was there?

  Could it be that the original Nicholas's death was somehow connected to Antonio?

  "Good morning, Mr. Marcelo," Nicholas said with a polite smile, extending his hand.

  Antonio stood frozen for several seconds before collecting himself. He cleared his throat, adjusted his suit then reached out and shook Nicholas's hand.

  "Good morning, Mr. Parley. My apologies— I wasn't aware you would be coming today."

  "It is my duty as your attorney to be present for the verdict. Or does Mr. Marcelo have reason to believe I wouldn't be able to attend today?"

  Nicholas replied, turning the question back on him. His gaze remained fixed on Antonio's face, carefully studying every subtle shift in expression.

  "Ahem… No, of course not. You've done an excellent job, Mr. Parley."

  Antonio let out a brief cough before forcing out the compliment.

  "Oh… I nearly forgot. This is Baron Grehl, the Governor of the Northern District, serving under Marquis Sternbred. The Baron has personally come here to witness today's verdict and affirm my innocence."

  Antonio made the introduction, gesturing toward the man standing beside him. Nicholas placed his right hand over his chest and bowed slightly.

  "It is an honor to meet you, Baron Grehl. I'm Nicholas Parley."

  "No need for such formality, young man. It is always refreshing to see promising youth such as yourself," Baron Grehl said warmly.

  Still, his gaze remained indifferent, reflecting the pride of his noble blood.

  "It seems you two have much to discuss. I'll be heading inside first."

  Baron Grehl gave Antonio a nod before excusing himself. The moment his figure vanished behind courtroom door, a heavy silence settled between the remaining two.

  Nicholas had figured that if he just played the part of 'Nicholas' well enough, he'd make it through the day without drawing attention. But it turned out that simply showing up today had already made him look suspicious.

  While he was deep in thought, a man walked up and stopped next to him.

  "Please step aside. You're blocking the entrance."

  A stern voice rang out, snapping Nicholas from his thoughts.

  The speaker was Romero Anceletti, the district prosecutor responsible for Antonio's case. He appeared to be around thirty years old and slightly shorter than Nicholas. His face was sharp and unreadable. Lean and well-built, he wore a black suit with a neatly fastened tie. He held a folder of documents in his right hand and the official prosecutor's robe in his left.

  "My, my… what a peculiar way to greet someone. A pleasure to see you too, Prosecutor Romero."

  Antonio said with a mocking tone, the corner of his mouth curling slightly upward while Nicholas responded only with a slight nod.

  "The hearing is about to begin. As the defendant and defense counsel, you should already be inside the courtroom. If the jury and the judge take the bench before you do, it would be a sign of disrespect to this court."

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  Prosecutor Romero said, his expression remaining unchanged despite Antonio's sarcastic remark.

  "And you, Mr. Parley — I suggest you ensure your client behaves appropriately. I have some concerns about how he may conduct himself in court…"

  He turned toward Nicholas as he spoke. His face remained expressionless, but his tone made it clear the remark was directed at Antonio.

  "…If you'll excuse me." Romero slipped between Nicholas and Antonio and walked into the courtroom.

  Nicholas could sense the surge of irritation rising in Antonio. It seemed the prosecutor's word had clearly struck a nerve.

  But there was something strange. Nicholas noticed he could perceive people's emotions and anticipate their thoughts — reading faces, body language, and tone of voice — in a way he hadn't been able to before since arriving in this world. Of course, his prior experience as a lawyer contributed to this, but he felt it had never been this vivid.

  There was no doubt about it.

  Something within him had changed.

  "Right this way, Mr. Marcelo."

  Nicholas gestured toward the door. His calm voice seemed to steady Antonio. After adjusting his suit one last time, Antonio stepped forward and led the way inside.

  The public benches inside the courtroom were filled with spectators. Most criminal trials are open to the public, allowing anyone to enter and observe the proceedings.

  The legal system of this world closely resembled the one Nicholas had come from. To make a comparison, it was primarily a civil law system combined with certain elements of common law. In other words, although court proceedings relied mainly on statutory codes, they also incorporated a jury — similar to the legal systems of various states in the United States.

  However, there were certain differences, the most apparent being that most jurors were selected from noble families or the aristocracy, unlike free nations where juries are drawn from ordinary citizens.

  Wearing his lawyer's robe, Nicholas sat at the defense table on the right side of the bench. Antonio took a seat behind him, attended by two bodyguards. In most criminal cases, a defendant arrested by investigators would appear in court in chains and handcuffs. But because Antonio had been granted bail, he faced the proceedings without restraints.

  Across from Nicholas, on the left side of the bench, Prosecutor Romero sat in his official robe. The chair behind him, meant for the plaintiff, was empty. Nicholas understood all too well the reason for that absence.

  After a short while, the door behind the bench opened. The court officer called for everyone to rise.

  The three judges entered and took their seats at the bench, while the twelve jurors stepped forward and settled into their assigned places.

  Bang!

  The gavel struck, and the proceedings began.

  Judge Pernille Michelsen was presiding over the trial. From what Nicholas had heard, she was renowned for her unyielding integrity and fairness; in his eyes, she was a truly exemplary jurist. Regrettably, in this case, her voice alone would not be enough to change the final verdict.

  "Criminal Case No. 445/50, between the York City District Prosecutor, plaintiff, and Antonio Marcelo, defendant. Who is present in court today?" Judge Pernille called out.

  Nicholas rose first and confirmed that both the defense counsel and the defendant were present. Prosecutor Romero then stood and did the same.

  "Today is the verdict hearing. The court has reviewed the evidence presented by both the plaintiff and the defendant. All members of the jury have read the preliminary draft verdict as required. However, before the jury delivers its opinion and the verdict is formally read, the court deems it appropriate to allow the representatives of both sides one final opportunity to address the jury. The court invites the representative of the plaintiff to speak first."

  Upon hearing this, Prosecutor Romero rose and made his way to the podium, turning to face the jury. Before addressing the specifics of the case, he spoke at length about the principles of justice and sanctity. He then reviewed the evidence presented by the prosecution and pointed out what he described as irregularities surrounding the matter.

  He referenced the disappearance of the complainant and the witnesses who had been scheduled to testify, as well as Antonio's questionable background.

  At that, Nicholas rose to object, arguing that such remarks were leading and irrelevant to the material issues before the court. After brief consideration, the court sustained the objection and instructed Prosecutor Romero not to pursue that line of argument further.

  Prosecutor Romero cast a short, unreadable glance at Nicholas before resuming his speech.

  Nicholas sat back down. Inside, he felt an indescribable unease, was it anxiety over the speech he was about to give… or guilt over the path he had chosen?

  "...I trust that the jury will make the right decision to eradicate injustice for the greater good of this city. Thank you."

  Prosecutor Romero gave the jury a bow and closed his address.

  Now it was Nicholas's turn to address the jury. He still had not settled on what to say Then, suddenly, fragments of the legal doctrines from his former world resurfaced in his mind. Having made up his mind, he slowly walked toward the podium.

  "Good day, members of the esteemed jury. I am Nicholas Parley, counsel for the defendant. If I may have a moment of your attention..."

  Nicholas began with a polite introduction, then proceeded to describe the facts of the case, the inconclusive nature of the prosecution's evidence, and the defense witnesses who helped confirm the defendant's innocence — regarding the timing, the location, and the inconsistency between the time of the alleged incident and the time when Antonio was seen by witnesses.

  As he spoke, a tightening, burning sensation grew in his chest. It scorched him from within, leaving his back drenched in sweat. His breathing quickened. But he gritted his teeth and continued.

  "…A great scholar once said, 'it is better to let ten guilty men go free than to condemn a single innocent soul.' I believe this is a principle that all judges and practitioners of the law ought to uphold, so that no mistake is made that would cost an innocent person their life without meaning. For once such an error is committed, it cannot be undone."

  In truth, Nicholas did not entirely agree with this principle. There were times when a case could not be proven beyond all doubt, but if the surrounding circumstances made the defendant's guilt apparent, it may be better to convict the accused to prevent further harm to others.

  Wasn't that precisely the very reason jury systems were introduced into these trials? To serve as a counterweight— balancing the scales and preventing corruption that might otherwise seep into the machinery of the law?

  Nicholas's headache suddenly worsened. He might not be able to handle it any longer. Before he lost consciousness, he had to close his address quickly.

  "I trust that you, the honorable members of the jury, will grant justice to my client, Mr. Marcelo."

  He concluded his statement with a bow and slowly made his way back to his table.

  He felt a hand reach out and rest on his shoulder—it was Antonito,

  "An excellent speech, Mr. Parley."

  Antonio cracked a smile, his gaze locked onto Prosecutor Romero, who was staring right back at him.

  Nicholas, however, was oblivious to his surroundings. The throbbing in his head grew more intense and a sharp pain tightened in his chest. Now that the speeches had concluded, it was time for the jury to begin their deliberations.

  Fifteen minutes passed. With the jury's opinion in hand, the full verdict was finalized. Judge Pernille struck the gavel to draw everyone's attention, then began reading the verdict. Her expression suggested she was not pleased with the outcome.

  She read the verdict aloud, recounting the case from beginning to end — the evidence presented, the facts established before the court, the reasoning that guided the jury's conclusion, and finally, the core of the ruling itself.

  "...The evidence presented by the prosecution is insufficient to prove beyond a reasonable doubt that the defendant committed the offenses as charged. Having considered the consensus of the jury—who have attended all sessions and voted 10 to 12 in favor of the defendant's innocence, the court hereby grants the benefit of the doubt to the defendant. The court finds the defendant NOT GUILTY under Section 36, Paragraph 2, and Section 88, Paragraph 5 of the Penal Code. The prosecution's case is hereby dismissed. Court fees and costs are to be borne by each party."

  Bang!

  As the gavel fell to close the case, a wave of outraged boos erupted from the public gallery. The situation quickly spiraled into chaos, forcing court officers to step in and restore order. Antonio, wearing a broad smile, turned to share a warm handshake with Baron Grail. Meanwhile, Prosecutor Romero remained as inscrutable as ever, silently gathering his documents at his table.

  Nicholas pressed his hand against his chest; his face drained of color as he fought the urge to vomit. Suddenly, a strange sensation washed over him. Darkness began to shroud his mind, and an icy chill ran down his spine.

  His thoughts went blank, as if something were pulling him into an endless darkness. It was a feeling he had experienced once before — the day he had been sent into this world.

  Nicholas's gaze slowly drifted upward. Amidst the chaos of the courtroom, he caught sight of a figure in a black cloak standing by the entrance. The man's face was shrouded in darkness, yet Nicholas could feel a pair of crimson eyes staring intently at him from beneath the shadows.

  In his breast pocket, the grey mirror began to vibrate violently.

  Perhaps… death was always much closer to him than he had ever imagined.

  12.10.550

  Nicolas Parlay

  Crooked Attorney