Chapter 125: The Hidden Wages

In fact, under modern labor laws, you couldn’t give goods in lieu of wages.

But imperial law had no such provision at all.

So this logic could apply, right?

Well, self-help, which is barely recognized in modern judicial systems, is everyday here.

“Defendant, why no answer?”

“That…….”

Viscount Granham’s expression darkened considerably.

He even hung his head in shame.

It felt like he couldn’t bring himself to speak.

I immediately turned to the victim, Landon, and asked.

“The ledger shows you received goods exceeding the wages.”

“Yes, I did. But not that much.”

“It’s listed as 10 goldens worth.”

“Inevitably sold cheap, so the amount was lower.”

“How much?”

“About 4 silons.”

10 goldens in silver was 50 silons.

Even at clearance, a discount over 90%?

This was truly absurd.

I immediately scanned the gallery and said.

“Is there anyone here who, like Mr. Landon, received wages in goods from Viscount Granham?”

Several raised hands right away.

I called them to the witness stand.

“You all got the same amount, right?”

“The goods each took were different, but the combined sale price was the same.”

“So when you took them to other shops and sold, how much did you get?”

“I got 3 goldens.”

“2 goldens and 3 silons for me.”

Prices varied by shop, so sale amounts differed.

But averaging, it was a bit under 3 goldens.

I stared at Landon again and continued.

“Everyone got that much, but why so little for you?”

“I got bad goods, that’s why.”

Even after his half-lie was exposed, his attitude was brazen.

He clearly believed his actions were justified.

No change in his mental state.

It’s all going to come out anyway, yet he persists?

Confirming facts wasn’t hard.

I called Prosecutor Ernest Calhoun right away.

“Could you come over here a moment?”

“Yes, Your Honor.”

“Immediately bring the shop owner who bought the victim’s goods. You’ll need the purchase ledger too.”

“With all due respect, that requires a search warrant.”

“I’ll issue it now, take it.”

“Yes!”

The zeal of the passionate new prosecutor was immense.

He brought the witness in no time.

I got testimony and evidence from the shop owner that he paid 3 goldens.

“Will you still lie even now?”

“But the boss just gave goods, not currency as wages, right?”

The general store employees’ monthly wage was 7 silons.

Two months arrears totaled 1 golden and 4 silons.

The value of goods Viscount Granham gave exceeded that.

The amount Landon embezzled was two months’ wages.

But why? He got more money effectively, so why do this?

No matter how I thought, his attitude didn’t make sense.

Plus, even after the lie was exposed, he held his head high.

Insisting to the end it wasn’t embezzlement.

He must have come after seeing the self-help clause in imperial law.

They say an ignorant person with conviction is scary.

I scanned the courtroom with a chilling gaze at Landon.

Thanks to me uncovering the inside story, the gallery’s atmosphere had flipped.

“Ugh! Look at that brazen look. Can’t stand it.”

“His mindset is totally different from normal people.”

“Can’t understand. Thinks the world revolves around his logic?”

“So frustrating.”

All reactions rebuked the victim.

Yet Landon demanded.

“I’m more righteous than anyone! Acknowledge it as self-help!”

This guy seemed beyond saving no matter what.

Then what to do.

Just hand down the verdict as is.

“The defendant tried to pay wages in goods despite financial hardship. He did his best for employees, so not guilty. Conversely, for the victim who dipped into the safe, business embezzlement applies, sentencing 3 years imprisonment. Additionally, seize assets to return the embezzled amount to the original owner.”

Dang! Dang! Dang!

The Hector Punisher slammed down as if to shatter the wooden block.

I thought I hit lightly, but it echoed through the building.

That’s why, even after the verdict, the courtroom was utterly silent.

Soon the gallery murmured.

“Yes! That’s it.”

“At first I thought it was just wage arrears. But His Honor verifies, and new facts emerge?”

“Amazing. So the prosecutor indicted wrong?”

“He’s a newbie. Bound to be flustered.”

“No, that’s fair.”

Ernest Calhoun’s face flushed at the whispers.

Not a single wrong word.

He must feel ashamed at seeming so incompetent.

It’s not his fault.

Landon testified brazenly throughout.

Plus, Viscount Granham hid giving goods as wages due to face.

A situation where anyone’s judgment could blur.

As I left the courtroom, I subtly called Calhoun.

“A moment, please.”

“Yes? Yes, Your Honor.”

An awkward atmosphere hung as we walked the empty hall.

Basically first conversation, so inevitable.

“Reviewing the trial documents, you investigated well. Bookmarked key ledger parts too.”

“Too kind, Your Grace.”

Even with praise, Calhoun’s expression stayed dark.

He thought it was empty words.

Encouraging a self-blaming junior was the point, but absolutely not fabricated.

“Really. You did everything else well. Witness exam looked skilled.”

“Thank you.”

“Grasping a case’s essence is hard.”

“But Your Honor pierced it instantly.”

“I watch from afar, so I see. When it’s in your face, vision narrows. So press on silently. Light will show eventually.”

“…”

Ernest Calhoun looked enlightened.

Soon he clenched fists and replied vigorously.

“I’ll become an excellent legal professional like Your Honor.”

“Uh… Yes. Do that.”

“Thank you!”

Bowing 90 degrees and dashing off, Ernest Calhoun.

I watched with a slightly dazed expression.

I didn’t mean to inspire that much.

Just said don’t mope.

But it felt overly energetic.

“Well, whatever? Passion is good.”

I smiled contentedly heading back to the office.

Another headache trial resolved.

But right then.

“W-wait! Your Honor!”

“Hey! Stop!”

Sudden commotion around.

Soon someone burst from the courtroom door and prostrated before me.

Court knights rushed in flustered, grabbing him, but his strength prevented detachment.

This person?

It was Landon, just convicted of embezzlement.

Clearly a commoner, yet this desperate.

Auras-using knights struggling—truly astonishing.

“What’s this about?”

“Your Honor! Even guilty, 3 years for stealing a few gold coins! Too excessive.”

“Why think so?”

“Isn’t it simple theft, not business embezzlement?”

Landon’s head turned decently.

Commoners had some educated talents, but not all.

He was probably exceptional among them.

That’s why Viscount Granham hired him.

Seemed he studied law sloppily somewhere, but no match for me.

“Mr. Landon, as store employee, you managed the safe too?”

“Yes.”

“Position safeguarding others’ property? Stealing then warrants heavy punishment. Called status crime. Understand?”

Smart enough to scheme, he’d get it.

But Landon was tenacious.

“Still, can’t you reduce? Sentencing heavily discretionary for judges.”

“I originally thought 10 years. Lowered much for small amount.”

“One more thing?”

“Won’t change no matter what. So just go back… Wait, can a detainee roam like this?”

Mid-sentence, I turned to court knights.

Flustered, they stammered.

“He resisted fiercely, feared injury so hesitated. Ended up here.”

“What’s protocol?”

“Use force.”

“Yes!”

Court knights roughly grabbed Landon and dragged him away.

He kept shouting, but I didn’t glance.

3 years is a bargain. Reflect there and return.

Imperial prisons aren’t for reform, but who knows.

Maybe positive outcome.

“One trial this exhausting.”

From inept new prosecutor to embezzler denying guilt to end.

Nothing easy.

I trudged wearily, then realized.

“Ah, right. No more trials today?”

Recalling that, energy surged suddenly.

Doffing robes, grabbing documents, I dashed to court front.

Just then, Uncle Brandon arrived with carriage.

“Whoa! Out early.”

“Yes, mood good so steps quickened.”

“Depart now?”

“Yes.”

I swiftly boarded passenger seat.

But right then.

A distant shadow appeared, closing in instantly.

The figure popping before me was Cordell McNeil.

What had this escort knight been doing all along?

“Why from there? Not doing duty?”

“Aw, you were at court? No need to stick close. What happens here spreads worldwide anyway.”

Thought he was advertising as surveillant.

Shaking head, I leaned on cushion.

Dealing with this sleaze more would just annoy.

But Cordell suddenly asked oddly.

“Your Grace.”

“What.”

“Back hurts—which better, hot or cold pack?”

What nonsense—uninjured guy hurting?

Still, slightly worried, I tilted head and asked.

“How’d you hurt?”

“Dance battle, twisted a bit. So many beauties. Can’t miss party chance.”

“…”

Lost words momentarily.

While I trialed hard, escort enjoyed party?

“I have great back medicine—want some?”

“Oh! Really?”

“Yes.”

Approaching delightedly, Cordell McNeil.

I quietly reached into bosom and said.

“Seems you need clubbing therapy.”