While Gart shared a goading grin, the rest of the room puckered in bafflement.
"... Should I take your silence as a no, Your Honor?"
That one line broke the ice and unleashed a flood of murmurs. But the judge's reflexes were dependable, already snatching the gavel before the public discord erupted.
K-THUD! K-K-Thud!
"Silence! All of you!"
Gustin Trynell was no fool. That's why the defendant's words, paired with Gart's obscenely strange behavior, left the assigned noble truly perplexed.
"At this point in time, are you already declaring yourself guilty of the accused crime?"
"Tra, ha, ha, HA! Oh, I'm guilty, Your Honor, of many things. I have more sins than I can recount on such short notice.
"I've fought my way through life for as long as I can remember. These tone muscles aren't just for show. I've grown and nurtured them with plenty of bar brawls and hunts galore. I don't have enough fingers and toes to count how many grown men I had crippled before my balls dropped.
"Oh, and all the shifty street merchants I've cheated and robbed… well, they had it coming, selling a half-eaten apple for a whole silver stag. Why do you think every other able-bodied orphan tried to swipe the goods before I could?
"As for the nobles I've offended…"
Gart's toothy smile folded into a smug grin as he narrowed his stare, meeting the judge eye to eye.
"It's not my fault that those uppity nobles are so offended by my existence. Is it a cook's fault if a street mutt drools over their food stall? It's their fault for being greedy and coveting our restaurant–"
"Objection, Your Honor!"
The leading prosecutor shot to his feet with a raised hand. "This is merely the opening statement, not the time to present the defense's case in detail–"
"Who said I needed so much time, huh?" Gart barked back, mocking the prosecutor with a blabbing hand puppet yet again.
"Maybe I'd be down to follow usual procedures if the usual procedures were offered to me! Instead of my lawyer and witnesses being detained minutes before you shoved me into the courtroom–"
"Objection!"
K-THUD!
A single pound of the gavel shattered the tense moment.
But the high and mighty smile on the prosecutor's face fell all too fast as Lord Gustin Trynell looked back to the defendant.
"Finish your opening statement. And be sure to address the jury as well."
Gart offered another bow before, stealing a glib smirk with the furious prosecutor's table.
"To cut the long story short, Your Honor, I've got no need to speak to anyone else. Cause, as far as the jury's concerned, I was guilty the moment half of them received hefty compensation from various businesses in the name of justice.
"Would you like me to point them out for you, or do you have the balls to investigate it on your own, Lord Trynell?"
"Objection!"
K-thud!
"Acknowledged," Lord Trynell stated. "I told you to finish your opening statement. Not to slander others or to verbally accuse me, your judge, of anything."
"Don't worry, Your Honor, I never accused you of anything. I'm just spitting facts that those bullshitters will cover up with money, influence, blood, or all of the above," Gart jested, never taking his eyes off the judge.
"If anything, I'm just trying to speed things up for all of us. That way, the bastards funding the prosecutors don't take up more of your valuable time, Your Honor. All so there witnesses and the angry mob behind me can get their paychecks even sooner. Then they can join the jury for a trip to the bank before sundown."
"Objection! Your Honor! … Your Honor?"
No gavel fell. Nor did any word fall from the noble's lips.
Rather, Gustin took that opportunity to glance at the jury box. Because it was impossible not to notice how a handful of jurors squirmed in their seats.
"As I was saying, Your Honor…"
Gart broke the silence once more, reeling the nobleman's gaze back to himself.
"I'm just expediting the process. No matter what I say, I'm already guilty. If you want to learn the truth, ask Mr. Vice Captain over there to hand over the documents he confiscated from my lawyer before detaining him. Or ask any of the dozen witnesses they detained that supported my alibi, placing me in the apartment above our restaurant at the time of death.
"But, as you can see, Your Honor, we haven't gathered here today in the name of truth. We're gathered here to prove I'm guilty. So let's get this over with and move on with our lives.
"If there's anything I'm eager to hear, it's which form of execution I'll get stuck with. Do mind if I spin a wheel or something–"
"OBJECTION!"
K-THUD!
"Acknowledged! Defendant, that's enough. Return to your seat."
Shrugging, Gart offered a final bow with a sigh. "Very well, Your Honor. I've said my piece and tried to save you some trouble. So just wake me up once I'm guilty, would you?"
The clatter of chains left the stupefied courtroom in awe. But what truly floored everyone was the sound of snoring just seconds later.
"Your Honor, may we now present our case?" the leading prosecutor asked, already standing up. "Or shall we push for contempt of court first?"
"Present your case. Or would you prefer a volatile defendant constantly objecting to you at every step? Either way, the defendant's ignorance has been duly noted."
Lord Trynell blunted replied, showing complete indifference on his face.
As usual, the prosecution's case was shared smoothly, aside from the occasional snort of the slumbering defendant.
However, no matter what was shared or said, a persistent itch kept pricking the back of Lord Gustin's neck.
The evidence was solid enough for some cases. But it was more shallow than Gustin would've wished for, particularly after hearing the defendant's wild opening statement.
"And that, my fellow citizens of the Holyland, is how this demonic orphan betrayed the only man to ever care for him. All in hopes of guaranteeing his immediate inheritance of the deceased's legacy and property," claimed the prosecutor.
"If he's allowed to go on breathing, then he'll only drag down the rest of society before he dares to attempt even more radical crimes in the name of escaping justice."
Many jurors quickly nodded in agreement with the prosecution's case. But not everyone. Just the majority, coincidentally including every squirmer from Gart's opening statement.
Still, that wasn't enough to warrant Lord Gustin stalling or postponing the trial. Not when the defendant's turn was next.
K-K-Thud!
"Defendant, present your case!"
"P-Present my… what now?" Gart's head shot up from the table, a string of drool connecting the corner of his mouth with the wooden surface.
"It's time for me to grant your case," Lord Gustin demanded. "Step forward, offer your case, and call any witnesses necessary."
"Ughhhh…" Gart rolled his head to stretch his neck.
"Haven't I already said every… Wait. Any witness necessary?"
Catching onto that sudden burst of nonchalant confidence, the nobleman nodded. "Yes. You can call on any witness necessary, so long as they're present within this courthouse–"
Gart snapped his finger to cut the judge off, instantly pointing to his first choice.
"I call on Vice Captain Diobor to take the stand!"