Semi-Coercive Imperialist

Hans stepped out through the massive front gate of Imperial Guard headquarters. He meant to keep walking down the street, but paused and turned to look back.

Night had already fallen, and the mother house of the Imperial Guard stood faintly revealed under the moonlight, its outline barely visible in the dark.

A mass of gray concrete crouched in the dark.

"......Big place, huh."

Compared to the Sentinel Order's stone architecture, weathered by years, this building was crude to a fault.

Barren might be the better word.

And yet a structure this dry, an organization this extreme, currently held the lives of the Empire's civilians in its grip.

The Empire's elite, the Sentinel, was too small in number. At most forty a year. And that number shrank further whenever a given class turned out poorly. Add up every knight order across the entire Empire and the total yearly output of knights still didn't clear two hundred.

The regular army outnumbered the Imperial Guard, but it sat scattered across distant border fronts, or deployed to foreign nations like Zerpa.

"There's a reason for it, I suppose."

Hans muttered with a hollow laugh. If he'd been an ordinary commoner, or if he'd come here still wearing his old identity as a western prison warden, he would have suffocated inside these gray walls......

Thud, thud.

He started walking again along the road.

Screeeech!

A black car pulled to a stop, blocking his path.

"......What now."

"Attorney Thomas Idunas?"

The front passenger door opened and a man in uniform stepped out. Hans's brow furrowed.

"What is this?"

"Ah, good evening. I'm Second Lieutenant Eric Lange, Imperial Guard Central Inspection Bureau."

The lieutenant offered a light salute and opened the back door. Someone else sat in the passenger seat.

The Imperial Guard always moved in pairs.

"Lieutenant Tilman."

He said it while smoking, his posture loose and swaggering.

Second Lieutenant Lange spoke again.

"By special consideration of Lieutenant General Martin Himler, we've been ordered to see you home safely, counselor."

His words were polite, but his eyes were cold.

"The streets get rough at night these days. So many terrorist incidents lately...... you understand, don't you?"

These Imperial Guard men wouldn't take no for an answer. And frankly, Hans welcomed it. The most reliable evidence tended to surface only once things turned physical.

Hans stared into the car for a moment.

"Fine. In that case, I won't refuse."

He climbed into the back seat.

* * *

Clang!

The bars of the Georgen underground detention cell opened.

"Nico Beber. Come out. You're being moved to the courthouse."

Custody of Nico Beber transferred hands. Inspector Fried and Detective Gavin escorted him to the surface.

A transport vehicle was already waiting outside.

Watching Nico get dragged along, Gavin murmured under his breath.

"Guess we never got the mastermind."

Fried said nothing. He simply watched Nico's retreating back.

"......Ahem."

Gavin glanced at his expression and coughed awkwardly.

"Well...... oh, Inspector. That's the prosecutor assigned to this trial, over there."

A man carrying a briefcase was walking out of the Georgen building right on cue.

Fried approached him first, Gavin trailing behind.

"Good to meet you. Inspector Fried."

"Ah, yes! Yes, yes, pleased to meet you. First time meeting you. I'm Prosecutor Rudi, Imperial Central Ministry of Justice."

He looked young at a glance. Young enough to seem green.

His hair was already a mess, and whether from nerves or not, his shirt and sideburns were damp with sweat.

Judging by the state of him, it was easy to guess exactly who he'd just met inside.

"Did things go well with Deputy Director Valerian?"

Valerian. Anyone who met him for the first time usually ended up looking about like this.

The name Taxis alone was intimidating enough, but standing in front of him in person carried an even stranger weight.

"Ah, yes...... I received clear instructions."

"Good to hear. Thanks for your trouble."

Fried extended his hand. The prosecutor took it awkwardly. Fried narrowed his eyes at the man's damp palm and added.

"Try not to be too scared of him. Meet with Deputy Director Valerian a few more times and you'll get used to it."

"Yes, well...... actually, I don't think I'll ever get used to it, honestly...... ha ha."

The prosecutor forced a laugh, his eyes darting nervously.

Gavin cut in with a smirk.

"The details...... ah, well, there's not really much in the way of details, is there? The outcome's already decided."

"Yes. I was assigned as the presiding prosecutor for this one, but......"

The prosecutor only had to stand there and play the puppet.

Gavin lowered his voice.

"So, about that...... what exactly did Deputy Director Valerian tell you?"

The prosecutor swallowed.

"Rudi" was a thoroughly common-born name. Even mentioning the Taxis heir out loud probably felt risky to him.

"Ah, that...... he didn't say much of anything, really...... whether a lawyer shows up or not, it won't change anything, he said, so just sit there quietly......"

Fried shot Gavin a sharp look and cut the prosecutor off.

"You don't need to be quite that honest about it."

"Ah, yes. Yes! Sorry."

"Well then. We'll be off. Take care."

Gavin opened the door of the official car first. Fried climbed naturally into the passenger seat.

"Uhh......"

Rudi still stood there blankly, watching them with uncertain eyes. Kind of endearing, the more Gavin looked at him. How does a prosecutor end up this dopey.

Gavin chuckled.

"Want to ride along, Prosecutor? We can drop you at the courthouse."

Same-day trial, same-day verdict, same-day execution.

They needed to move fast.

"Ah, well...... if it's not too much trouble, I'd appreciate it."

Rudi scrambled into the back seat.

Vroooom.

The car pulled onto the road. Just as Hans expected, the scenery looked unfamiliar. A completely different direction from his law office.

"......."

He checked the rearview mirror without a word. His eyes met the Imperial Guard driver's.

Six times now.

Second Lieutenant Lange spoke up with a thin smile.

"Just relax, counselor. We're almost there. I took a bit of a wrong turn, but this exit should do it."

"......Sure. Go ahead."

Hans closed his eyes quietly. He had no reason to be tense. If anything, he let himself relax.

Still no sign of trouble.

He pretended to doze for a while, and by the time a pale blue glow began tinting the horizon at dawn,

Screeeech.

the car finally stopped.

"Get out."

Hans opened his eyes. He checked the view outside the window, and his brow furrowed.

High-voltage electrified fencing surrounded the area, watchtowers rising at intervals.

Hans knew this place. He'd even seen the blueprints once, firsthand.

The special detention facility the Imperial Guard ran to lock away political and ideological criminals.

"This isn't my office."

"Ah, shut it. Get out, quick."

The tone had already turned rough. Hans had no choice but to step out of the car, and the moment he did, Second Lieutenant Lange drew a pistol and pressed it into the small of his back.

"Thomas Idunas. You are under emergency arrest on charges of violating Imperial ideological law and inciting anti-state sedition."

The muzzle touched his spine.

Hans cried out urgently.

"Wh, what are you talking about right now! This kind of disrespect-"

"Shut your mouth, you reactionary piece of shit."

Second Lieutenant Lange snarled viciously. Hans trembled, playing at confusion.

"Move and I swear your legs get shredded."

"Ah, ah! Wait, please wait! Under Imperial criminal procedure law, without a proper warrant-"

"Imperial law, my ass. You know what the Imperial Guard's special act is? You're headed straight to the camp. No right to counsel."

"Ah, alright! Alright! I understand, just calm down! Please!"

He shouted as desperately as he could, practically begging.

The two Imperial Guard men exchanged a look and snickered at the outburst.

"Understand what? What exactly do you understand, you idiot?"

Second Lieutenant Lange tapped the muzzle against Hans's waist, while Lieutenant Tilman gave a lazy grin and slapped him across the cheek. Smack!

"What do you understand, you piece of shit. How far does some lawyer think he can push his luck......"

Still, it was something to note. A commoner-born lawyer, granted a private audience with Lieutenant General Martin himself.

Tilman scratched his cheek, chuckling.

"......Clueless little worm."

Tilman's expression went blank. He worked up phlegm in his throat and, ptooey, spat it in Hans's face.

Sticky saliva ran slowly down Hans's forehead.

"Rot here a few months first. We'll let you have your trial. If you're still alive by then. Hey!"

Tilman waved a hand toward the camp.

"Ah, wait, wait a moment...... just a moment, please."

Hans shook his head to keep the phlegm from sliding onto his lips.

"My inner pocket, could you just check my inner pocket, please."

"Inner pocket? Got a will written up in there or something?"

"Just the inner pocket, please. And get the gun off my back, if you would."

The muzzle scraping against his lower back was getting rather irritating.

"There's something in my inner pocket I'd like to show you."

The Imperial Guard men snorted at that.

"Why. Gonna pull out some family register? Beg us because you're Aran?"

Boom.

Right then, the detention facility's iron gate opened and several guards walked out. They saluted the Imperial Guard men on sight.

Second Lieutenant Lange waved a hand, looking bothered.

"Just check it, just check once. Please."

Hans blinked like he was begging, and Tilman jerked his chin at Lange with an amused smirk.

"Take a look."

"Sure~"

Second Lieutenant Lange rummaged through Hans's inner pocket and pulled out a leather notebook.

"This?"

"Yes. Open it up."

Confident, at ease, the moment he confirmed the "documents" tucked inside.

"......?"

Lange's face went rigid.

Confusion filled his features, and the mockery evaporated instantly.

His lips moved, muttering something to himself.

His pupils dilated, his fingertips froze.

A silence settled in so complete it seemed even his breathing had stopped.

"What is it?"

Second Lieutenant Lange gave no answer to Tilman's question.

"......What's wrong with this guy?"

Tilman snatched the notebook away himself.

Before long, his own expression shifted to match.

"Um...... is something wrong......?"

The bewildered guards asked cautiously, but the lieutenant and second lieutenant stayed frozen.

"......Ugh, damn. Gross."

Hans lightly shook off the Imperial Guard men's hands. He pulled his sleeve up to wipe the spit off his cheek and reclaimed the notebook from Lieutenant Tilman's grip.

"First. Let me introduce myself again."

He looked over the dazed Imperial Guard men and guards, then spoke.

"Sentinel Order, Senior Knight Maximilian von Ebenholtz's staff, First Department Senior Working Officer."

Sentinel. Maximilian. Senior working officer.

At that string of ominous words, the guards flinched and stepped back.

"Hans Wenzel."

Maximilian. Maximilian. Maximilian......

The name spilled dazedly from Lange's mouth.

"From this point forward, the investigation into the Nico Beber case falls under Sentinel Order jurisdiction, and-"

Hans turned to look at the two Imperial Guard men who had brought him here.

"Everyone connected to this incident will be subject to questioning by Sir Knight Maximilian."

"Yes, yes! Loyalty! Loyaltyyyy! We didn't know anything about this! We're not involved!"

The guards backed off with quick instincts.

Hans turned his gaze on Lange and Tilman instead.

"Hey."

The lieutenant's and second lieutenant's shoulders jerked hard.

The two who'd been so smug just moments ago now couldn't even meet his eyes.

They quietly lowered their heads, even clasping their hands behind their backs.

"......Second Lieutenant Lange. Lieutenant Tilman. I've remembered your names. I'll see you both at the Order later, shall I?"

From early morning, a cold tension hung over the Imperial Central Special Court.

"The trial of the defendant Nico Beber will now commence."

The presiding judge's declaration rang hollow. The air in the courtroom had already stiffened as if the verdict had been decided in advance, and the man sitting at the prosecutor's table was nothing more than a puppet.

"Terrorism against the Imperial strategic defense contractor Alchemia's factory, and conspiracy to commit insurrection."

In the front row of the gallery, Inspector Fried and Detective Gavin from Georgen sat side by side.

"The ringleader, Nico Beber."

Gavin glanced sideways at Fried. His eyes stayed fixed on the defendant's seat.

"We will now begin the hearing......"

The trial proceeded, but the process had been stripped down to almost nothing.

Evidence review was skipped, and witness testimony was replaced with written statements.

"Defendant Nico Beber. Do you admit to your crimes?"

Nico Beber kept his head bowed low and shook it. His crushed lips trembled, murmuring out a faint reply.

"......I do not admit to them."

Fried's brow furrowed. A sneer crept across Gavin's mouth.

Even staring death in the face, this guy still doesn't know his place.

"Hah. Because of your irresponsible act of destruction, skilled workers devoted to serving the nation lost their lives. And still you show no remorse?"

"They were never innocent to begin with. Those bloodsuckers draining the Empire's-"

"Enough of this, this is outrageous!"

The judge shouted, cutting Nico off.

"The defendant continues to deny his crime to the very end, showing not a shred of remorse and behaving shamelessly. There's no value in hearing any more of this!"

He shot the prosecutor a look at once.

The prosecutor rose from his seat as if he'd been waiting for the cue.

"Yes. Given the extremely poor nature of defendant Nico Beber's crime and the severe threat it posed to Imperial security, the prosecution demands the maximum sentence under law, death."

At the defendant's seat, alone without counsel, Nico Beber settled into a quiet stillness.

Gavin raised an eyebrow and muttered.

"Never had much of a life to begin with, this one."

A father who couldn't pay off his debts and took his own life, a mother dead from illness, a younger sister killed in a traffic accident. A life where nothing had ever gone right.

He'd blamed it all on Izenheim alone, and society's grievances had finally exploded outward in the shape of terrorism.

That was when it happened. The courtroom suddenly stirred. A commotion rose from outside, and someone came rushing in. Flustered, the man leaned in and whispered something to the judge.

"Counsel has arrived?"

The judge's brow creased.

Counsel.

Gavin gave a small laugh.

"Ah, so that lawyer's finally showing up, huh."

Inspector Fried didn't answer. The judge's eyebrows twitched with visible displeasure as he announced.

"Let Nico Beber's counsel enter."

The judge looked like he was about to unleash a thunderous scolding. Who do you think you are, defending a terrorist like this, or something along those lines.

While Gavin entertained that thought, the door opened.

Screeeech.

After that, an unreadable atmosphere filled the courtroom.

The judge's angry expression, fixed on the far end of the aisle, went slack for a moment. The hand gripping the gavel trembled faintly.

Thud.

Footsteps, steady and quiet.

A composed sound approaching as if treading on air itself.

Somewhere in the gallery, the sound of several spectators catching their breath.

Prosecutor Rudi's hair stood on end. His jaw had already dropped low enough to nearly touch the desk.

What could make him look like that?

Gavin turned to look, a beat too late.

"......Huh?"

He, too, could only manage that same sound.

His thoughts tangled for a moment, and a strange headache spread up the back of his neck.

Not a knight's uniform. A man in a suit.

But everyone in the room knew. Whatever authority and power lived inside him ran deeper than any uniform ever could.

An Imperial knight could serve not only as prosecutor, but as defense counsel too.

Because as the Empire's watchmen, they carried authority and standing that stood above the law itself.

And now that man walked into the courtroom on his own two feet, looked up at the judge, and spoke.

"Defense counsel, Maximilian."

"......."

The judge's gaze drifted, finding nowhere to land. His parched lips gaped like a goldfish. Across the room, the prosecutor could only manage rapid, hyperventilating breaths.

"......What the hell is this."

Fried muttered the curse blankly, and Gavin felt much the same.

Amid their shock, Maximilian took the seat beside the prisoner.

"Good to meet you, Nico."

Deep, beautiful voice.

At that composed tone introducing itself, Nico's gaze, bowed low all this while, rose on its own.

"I read your letter carefully."

Maximilian's golden eyes settled on Nico.

In the pupils that met his, moonlight seemed to settle.

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