Chapter 30

A few minutes before the ruling… There was a defendant. A judge. A stenographer. A defense attorney. A prosecutor. Only the jury was missing; the sole person was the defendant. The defendant Veltol sat at the stand but was not allowed to open his mouth. His entire body was constrained and most of his face covered. The only sensory organs he was allowed to use in this trial were one eye and both ears. All others in attendance were machines. Upside-down buckets with lights flashing red and green like pre-Fantasion modems. The mechanical prosecutor recited flatly: “Arraignment.” The artificial voice of a man echoed through the courtroom. “Around eight PM this evening, the accused entered the Yokohama Progenitor’s domain unauthorized. All people and resources within the domain, including the defendant himself, belong to the Progenitor, and yet the accused acted as though he had free rein, thereby desecrating the Canon.” The mechanical judge proceeded to read Veltol his rights: “Defendant, you have the right to remain silent. You are free to not answer any question you do not wish to answer. You may answer, but anything you say may be used against you in this court of law.” “…” He had no way to speak even if he wanted to, for his mouth was covered up. Nor was he allowed to speak. This trial was a sham. The result was decided before it started. A formality—a game of pretend where proper procedures did not matter. “Defendant, do you have anything to say to the prosecutor’s statement?” “…” The defendant did not respond to the judge’s question. He couldn’t. Naturally. His mouth was covered. It was meaningless. Unjust. Laughable to even ask a muzzled person a question. “It appears he has nothing to add. Prosecutor, you may make your opening statement.” “Thank you. Well, then…” Only the judge and prosecutor spoke. Once the prosecutor’s opening statement finished, the judge said: “Defense, your opening statement.” “…” The mechanical defense attorney did not react. Unlike the rest of the machines, the defense attorney had no flashing lights. It wasn’t in operation to begin with. It was only natural it wouldn’t respond. They did nothing that made sense and reveled in the meaningless. An exercise in futility. “Prosecution declares, in the name of the Progenitor, that the defendant has blatantly committed grave crimes against Yokohama, and no evidence is needed.” No evidence is needed. Folly. An affront to the concept of a trial. Yet no objections were raised. Common sense was absent; instead, insanity took its place. “The recommended sentence is as follows.” And the absurdity continued. “For breaking and entering—invading the Progenitor’s domain: six hundred and sixty-six years. “For rioting—disturbing the Progenitor’s domain: two hundred and seventeen years. “For escaping—being retroactively guilty of fleeing after entering the Progenitor’s domain and thus becoming His possession: three hundred and thirty-three years. “For silence—remaining silent before the judge’s questioning: three hundred and thirteen years. “For contempt of court—defiant behavior, not answering the judge’s questioning: ninety-nine years. “For non-contribution—neglecting his duty to contribute to the city despite being the Progenitor’s possession: four hundred and three years. “For insufficient TM—slovenly contemplation: twenty years. “For Earth slander—neglecting to listen to Gaia’s voice: twenty years. “For worship obstruction—hindering the Progenitor’s channeling: twenty years. “For violation of men’s hair code—having much longer hair than decreed in Yokohama: four years. “For violation of men’s height code—being taller than decreed in Yokohama: four years.” Guilty of remaining silent after being granted the right to remain silent and being robbed of the freedom to speak. Guilty of having long hair. Such inanity was unheard of in modern civilization. A laughable demand from a joke of a trial. Yet in this place of absurdity, everything proceeded seriously. “Prosecution has no further demands.” “Understood. Defense, you may speak.” “…” No testimony. No cross-examination. No defense to begin with. This was not a trial. A trial occurred only when prosecution, defense, and jury worked properly. Without an opportunity for defense, the judge was simply going through the motions of handing out the already-decided sentence. A dignified facade of a trial. “Any last words, defendant?” “…” “We shall proceed with the sentence, then.” The defendant’s uncovered eye expressed brightly the emotions he was prohibited from putting into words. “Defendant—” Now we return to the beginning. The sentence is given: 2099 years in prison for the immortal Demon Lord Veltol. There was no shade of despair or worry on his face. Placid. Composed. Calm. Serene. Still constricted and deprived of everything, he was not inconvenienced. He even seemed to be enjoying the situation. Under the muzzle lurked a fiery grin. As though this was exactly what he wished for. The Demon Lord should not have been able to utter a single word, and yet despite his muzzle, he spoke with joy: “Are you sure you can chain me…in this tiny prison?”