The Shadow of Great Britain

"Silence."

Thud!

With the fall of the gavel, the previously noisy Magistrates' Court instantly fell into complete silence.

Clad in black robes and sporting a silvery-white wig, the magistrate, upon confirming the presence of all Jury members, began to lead them in reciting the oath.

"I swear, as a reputable citizen of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, that I will participate in this trial according to the law, faithfully perform my Jury duties, base my judgment impartially and indisputably on common sense and moral standards, and make a fair decision on the outcome of the case to maintain good social order and environment."

After the oath was concluded, the magistrate addressed the slightly anxious Jury.

"Ladies and gentlemen, many of you might be here for the first time, not versed in relevant legal knowledge.

But that doesn't matter, because your duty does not require such things. What you need is a fair heart, unadulterated by personal likes and dislikes.

All Jury members are randomly selected from the vast populace of London according to criteria, with no criminal records, possessing a good reputation, and normal value judgments.

Therefore, you only need to judge the guilt or innocence of the defendant based on your social experience and moral views, according to the evidence presented in this courtroom.

And I must also make a fair and reasonable request to you that you only consider the evidence presented in court, and not to contemplate specific legal provisions, as any doubt regarding legal articles will be guided and clarified by me."

"Now, do you understand?"

As the magistrate had said, the Jury of twelve was diverse, their professions and educational backgrounds varying greatly.

Among them were clerks from trading companies, skilled workers from factories, surgeons, and housewives, among others.

The vast majority of them were participating in a courtroom judgment for the first time and understandably felt ill at ease in the solemn and hushed environment.

A fashionably feather-hatted lady in a pleated skirt with a cinched waist extended her hands, clad in black gloves, rested them slightly on her abdomen, and nodded to the judge.

"It's an honor to be chosen as the spokesperson for the Jury, we have heard you clearly, sir," she said to the judge.

The judge responded with a smile, "It's a pleasure to see you here, Mrs. Peel. To be honest, I was quite taken aback to see your name on the list of Jurors."

Arthur, who had been arranging his files at the prosecutor's bench, furrowed his brow upon hearing this.

Lady?

He was quite sure he hadn't misheard the judge's words; the term used was "Lady."

That meant the woman who had just spoken was either of noble birth or married into the nobility.

As Arthur slowed his filing, his thoughts began to wander.

While he was considering how to utilize this surprise element, he caught a glimpse of Agares, seated atop the magistrate's head, out of the corner of his eye.

The Red Devil also took notice of the lady of distinguished identity.

He hopped from the magistrate's head and shoulders onto the prosecutor's bench in front of Arthur, pointed at the lady, and smiled slyly.

"Arthur, if you could secure that lady's soul for me, I'd overlook your past desire to sail the seas and gaze upon whales," he teased.

Arthur, taking advantage of the moment while the judge made pleasantries with Mrs. Peel, replied impassively.

"It's either coveting college girl Elisa or now fretting over a married lady. Agares, your taste changes too quickly."

"Oh, ten Elisas don't compare to one such lady! Arthur, you're young, you don't understand such benefits," came Agares' response.

Taking his role seriously, Arthur answered, "Agares, you'd better clarify what you mean. The way you talk, it makes me want to sue you right now."

The Red Devil's saliva dripped steadily onto Arthur's indictment, "She exuded power from head to toe, one bite of her could satisfy me for half a year, not something that a green little girl like Elisa could compare to."

"If you like power so much, why didn't you choose a Contractor from a distinguished family? How could a poor kid like me ever fill the bottomless pit of your desires?"

"Hmph! It's not like I haven't looked before. When King Solomon and I stormed into Jerusalem, your ancestors didn't even know where they were mixing."

"My ancestors? By that time, they should have already completed the Second Crusade."

"The Second Crusade? Are you talking about the Crusaders? Arthur, where did all the history knowledge you learned in college go? The Second Crusade was in the twelfth century."

Arthur knew he was talking to a wall, so he lost interest in continuing the conversation and instead asked.

"You still haven't answered me, why did you choose to make a contract with me? There are plenty of fraudsters and robbers to catch in London, why do you think so highly of me?"

Agares snarled, "Is that even a question? These days, finding someone in London without religious beliefs, do you think it's easy?

Even if you find one, most likely it's an uneducated, naive person who has never traveled far, is immoral, uncivilized, cowardly, irritable, and damn stupid.

Arthur, don't doubt your strength, you are the one I've carefully selected."

Arthur scratched his cheek, "For a moment, I really don't know if you're complimenting me or insulting me. Anyway, let's not talk about this anymore. Agares, do me a favor."

"Do you a favor?"

Agares glared with his left eye, one eye bigger than the other, "Arthur, what do you think I am? A worn-out rag? After you're done peeing, you know to use me to wipe the piss off the floor, but when you're not using me, you can't even be bothered to wash me."

"I know your powers, and since you can amplify the hidden desires in people's hearts, surely you can also amplify Mrs. Peel's empathy and her instinct as a mother for me."

"Arthur, I haven't agreed to it yet!"

"There's no time, Agares, you are my partner," Arthur urged.

"Why didn't you mention that when you promised to go see the whales this morning?!"

Bang!

The gavel struck hard on the bench in front of him.

The Magistrate solemnly announced, "I now declare, the Magistrates' Court for the London area is officially in session to try the theft case against Adam Evans. The prosecution is requested to read the indictment and submit the relevant evidence."

Arthur composed his face and solemnly began to read from the document in his hands.

"Police Sergeant Arthur Hastings, representing the Greater London Police Department, formally files this public prosecution against the defendant Adam Evans.

The defendant Adam Evans, a nine-year-old male, resides at 27 Church Lane, St Giles Church in London.

Around 3 p.m. on March 25th, the victim Nancy Lewis attended a local councilor's campaign speech in Greenwich District.

The campaign event concluded around 4:30 p.m., and on her way home, Mrs. Lewis discovered that a parasol she carried with her was stolen, and she immediately sought help at a nearby police station..."

Agares saw Arthur reading the indictment with such righteousness and spat viciously onto the ground.

"Damn it, why don't you go around and ask? Whether it's King Solomon, the Dwarf Pippin, Hafdan in White Shirt, or William the Conqueror, which one of them dared to treat me with such an attitude?"

He glanced at Mrs. Peel sitting nearby and then noticed a middle-aged man wearing a black top hat sitting in a corner of the visitors' gallery.

"Oh! How did I miss him?"

Agares's eyes rolled, and he chuckled twice, rubbing his evil little finger and murmured.

"Arthur, you just watch. After this trial is over, I want to see how you're going to run off to the sea."