"The verdict is… innocent."
Bang!
The sharp crack of the gavel echoed across the courtroom, striking the wooden walls and high ceiling before fading into a hollow silence.
For a moment, the world stood still.
Then echoes of chatter began spreading through the audience.
Some sounded relieved. A few seemed angry. Reporters quickly scribbled into their notebooks while cameras flashed toward the defendant's table.
But for one man standing near the front, everything felt distant.
Hiromi Higuruma stood motionless.
Twenty-seven years old.
A lawyer for six years.
And he had just lost his case.
"Higuruma-san… please don't blame yourself."
His assistant spoke carefully beside him, her voice quiet and sympathetic.
"The defendant is a famous senator after all. Cases like this are almost impossible to win."
But Higuruma barely heard her.
All that filled his ears was a dull ringing.
And the echo of the gavel.
Bang.
The sound repeated inside his mind.
The case had started with a family.
A family of four.
Or rather what used to be a family of four.
The accused was Senator Takashi.
A powerful political figure known throughout the country. For years he had maintained a spotless public image. Newspapers praised him as a model leader, a man who represented stability and progress. He appeared on television frequently, giving speeches about national development and public welfare.
Until this case, Takashi had never been accused of any crimes.
Not once.
Which was why the accusations shocked everyone when they were first announced.
According to the plaintiff, the senator was secretly connected to a number of serious criminal activities.
Bribery.
Organized crime.
Drug trafficking.
Embezzlement.
And possibly even murder.
These claims seemed unbelievable, the beloved senator accused of all these crimes?
These accusations came from someone who once worked closely with Takashi himself.
A former colleague.
The man had worked alongside the senator for several years in political administration. To the outside world they appeared to be trusted partners.
But everything changed one evening.
While reviewing financial records, the colleague discovered a large sum of money hidden within several documents connected to Takashi.
At first he assumed it was simply another political fund.
Large financial transactions were normal in government work.
But something about the amount bothered him.
It was too large.
Far too large to be easily explained.
Suspicion slowly began to grow in his mind.
He tried to ignore it. At first he convinced himself that there must be a reasonable explanation. But the thought continued to return, gnawing at his conscience.
Eventually curiosity and concern pushed him to investigate further.
And what he found made him freeze up in disbelief.
Following small inconsistencies in financial reports, he uncovered a trail of hidden payments and secret accounts. Money was being transferred through complex channels that avoided normal oversight.
The trail eventually led to one unmistakable conclusion.
The yakuza.
Drugs, illegal trade, and massive bribery networks were all connected to one central figure.
Takashi.
The discovery left him stunned. Someone he had trusted, someone he had worked with for years, was deeply involved in organized crime.
After days of hesitation, he finally made a decision.
He went to the police.
He reported everything he had found.
Every suspicious transaction.
Every hidden account.
Every connection he could trace.
For a short time, he believed justice would take care of the rest.
But that hope did not last long.
A few nights after the report was filed, disaster struck.
Late at night, several masked men forced their way into his home.
The police would later describe the incident as a robbery.
But the details never quite made sense.
The attackers broke through the door violently, searching through rooms and destroying furniture. They shouted threats and demanded money, yet strangely ignored many expensive valuables scattered throughout the house.
During the chaos, the colleague's wife tried to shield their children.
She was killed.
The men fled shortly afterward.
The case was quickly closed as a robbery gone wrong.
No suspects were identified.
No arrests were made.
Officially, it was just another tragic crime.
But the husband knew the truth.
This was not a robbery.
It was a threat.
A threat that promised misery if he ever spoke up again.
This was likely either Takashi or someone behind him.
Unfortunately, knowing the truth was not the same as proving it.
There was no direct evidence connecting Takashi to the attack. Without proof of his ties to the yakuza, the accusations sounded like nothing more than speculation.
Many lawyers refused the case immediately.
Going against a powerful senator was dangerous, and the chances of winning were extremely small.
Some even warned the colleague to drop the matter entirely.
But one lawyer accepted.
Hiromi Higuruma.
When the man sat across from him and explained everything, Higuruma noticed something immediately.
His eyes.
There was no deception there.
Only desperation.
Higuruma couldn't turn away from that.
Since becoming a lawyer, he had believed strongly in one principle.
The law must treat everyone equally.
It should not matter whether someone was poor or powerful. Whether they were unknown or famous. Justice should apply to everyone the same way.
At least that was what Higuruma believed.
So he took the case.
He began investigating immediately.
If the court required evidence, he would find it.
The first step was examining Takashi's actions before the incident.
After hours of searching through transportation logs, witness reports, and security footage, Higuruma discovered something unusual.
On the night of the attack, only a few hours before it happened, Takashi had visited a harbor.
Not a public harbor.
A quiet industrial dock rarely used at night.
Security cameras captured him arriving in a private car while carrying a large case.
He stayed for nearly thirty minutes before leaving.
Suspicious.
Very suspicious.
But nothing incriminating so far.
So Higuruma continued digging.
Following financial records and shipping manifests, he began uncovering deeper connections. Secret payments linked Takashi to several individuals already suspected of ties to organized crime.
Members of the yakuza.
Piece by piece, the evidence formed a clear picture.
Illegal money transfers.
Drug trafficking routes.
Political protection in exchange for criminal funding.
Within hours, Higuruma had gathered enough evidence to present a powerful argument in court.
Even if the murder could not be proven directly, Takashi's involvement with criminal organizations was undeniable.
Justice finally had a chance.
Or so Higuruma thought.
Now he stood in the courtroom, staring at the man who had just been declared innocent.
Senator Takashi calmly adjusted his tie, a faint smile crossing his face as reporters rushed toward him.
The evidence.
The witnesses.
The documents.
All of it had been dismissed.
The judge had barely acknowledged most of Higuruma's arguments.
It was as if the decision had already been made long before the trial began.
Higuruma slowly clenched his fists.
He understood now.
The judge had been bribed.
Whether by Takashi himself or by the powerful criminal network behind him, someone had ensured the outcome in advance.
This trial had never been about justice.
It had only been a performance.
A show designed to protect the powerful.
For years Higuruma had told himself that the law was absolute.
That if someone fought hard enough, gathered enough evidence, and stood firmly for justice, the truth would win.
But standing there in the quiet courtroom, listening to the fading echo of the gavel, Higuruma stopped telling himself that judgement treats everyone equal . No more accurately stopped lying to himself, because from the very start of his career he had already known that truth in judgment depends entirely on nothing but interests be it money or bias the only truth in the world was that interests was the deciding factor in judgment.