Steel, Explosives, and Spellcasters

Chapter 367: Chapter 32 Horror Theater_2

But he had never anticipated that the once infallible “counterfeit-proof mark” would actually hit the wall this time.

Winters tossed the purse in front of the pimp and asked coldly, “You don’t want your hands anymore?”@@novelbin@@

The young man knelt down in panic, pleading continuously, speaking incoherently, “Sir! This license is truly genuine, I was momentarily confused…”

“Wait here.” Winters, observing that his manner did not appear deceitful, took Gerard with him to the peacekeeping department.

He did not understand Paratu’s laws, so such matters required consultation with a legal expert.

…

The old mendicant monk, Reed, having heard Gerard’s account, placed the license on the table and chuckled, “Paratu does indeed allow brothels to operate legally, this time he really does have the advantage.”

“It’s a corrupting influence!” Gerard was furiously indignant, “And there’s the risk of spreading venereal diseases! Thirty years ago, who knows how many Dusacks were afflicted.”

The old monk, stroking his long beard with a laugh, said, “There are indeed ways to legally shut them down, it’s not difficult.”

“What?” Gerard’s spirits were immediately lifted.

“They have occupied the town’s land for their operations; their personnel, tents, and vehicles can be seized.”

“That kid is cunning; he deliberately set up the tent outside the town.”

“The entire Wolfton land belongs to the public; what difference does it make if it’s inside or outside?” Monk Reed casually remarked, “Moreover, to operate such a place in Paratu, the workers are required to be regularly examined by a doctor and certified fit for work. With all the procedures scrutinized, missing just one step would be enough to deal with him.”

Gerard was somewhat at a loss for words.

Winters tried to persuade the old Dusack, “I see that all around the tent are lumberjacks’ men. Those men lead a tough life, surrounded only by men. Allowing them an outlet is safer for the town. Besides, the license doesn’t seem fake; there’s no need for such measures against the pimp. The best approach is to ensure the town’s residents keep their own sons in check.”

Gerard fell silent, and the town hall became quiet.

Seeing that the old Dusack was persuaded, Winters stood up, “I’ll go talk to that pimp. Only for today, after today he better clear out early.”

Gerard gave a slight nod.

Monk Reed stopped the young officer on his way to the door, “Have you thought it through?”

“Hmm.”

“Good.”

The door was pulled open from the outside, and Anglu hurriedly said to the young officer, “Sir, the executioner is ready.”

…

In Wolf Town, for crimes less than capital punishment, the Garrison Officer can make the decision alone.

If it is a serious offense, a triple-judge committee will be formed, consisting of the town mayor, the Garrison Officer, and an envoy sent from the county.

However, for criminals like “Horse Palm Ivan” and his gang—who are neither residents of Wolf Town nor are they caught in the act—

There is no committee, no defense allowed; the crime is already established, Winters just needs to decide the sentence.

Winters habitually sought counsel from Monk Reed.

The old monk smiled wryly, “What sentencing? In the Kingdom of Galloping Horses, captured bandits and robbers face the death penalty. The only difference is how you wish them to die.”

“Among the captured bandits, there’s a child, barely over twelve years old,” Winters hesitated, “I want to know if Paratu’s laws offer any leniency towards him?”

“There isn’t, but the power to decide the punishment is yours; you can reduce the sentence as you see fit,” the mendicant monk’s calm was like a deep pool, “But to what extent do you want to reduce it?”

“Exile?”

“Paratu has no exile. Besides, where would you exile him to? This is already the frontier of the Senas Alliance.”

“Corporal punishment?”

“To cut off one hand would mean cutting off his chances of returning to the right path, not even farms would employ those who have been punished.”

“Labor? Flogging?”

“Don’t you think that would be too unfair to the deceased townsfolk of Wolf Town?” said Reed with a hint of sarcasm, “Legally speaking, Paratu does not recognize bandits and robbers as citizens of the Republic; they have no civic rights whatsoever, and anyone can kill them without repercussions.

A child of twelve doesn’t join a gang willingly but is forced into becoming a bandit. Considering this, any reduction in his sentence is meaningless. In a few years, you’ll see him in a gang on the Newly Reclaimed Land. If you ask the executioner, you’ll know how many of the criminals he’s executed were habitual offenders repeatedly punished.”

“Then what should I do?”

“What to do? Give him some property, so he can sustain himself, and he won’t fall back into banditry. But don’t you think that would be too unfair to the dead people of Wolf Town?” The old mendicant monk spoke evenly, “You are an officer stationed in Wolf Town, not one for the Horse Palm Gang. Your duty is to protect this land and its people, not to worry about the fate of a bandit!”

…

Once the executioner was ready, solemn bell tolls echoed from the church.

The Wolf Town guards unlocked the prison doors and escorted the seven bandits all the way to the town square.

At least a thousand onlookers lined the path: farmers from five villages and Dusans, laborers working in the estates, estate owners on horseback, and their wives and daughters in horse-drawn carriages… Nearly all the people of Wolfton had made their way to the town.

Seeing this show of force, it was clearly visible that several guards were nervous, with beads of sweat forming on Gerard’s forehead, fearing any mishap might spark unrest.

Suddenly a woman pushed through the crowd and rushed to the prisoner’s side, savagely hitting the convict with a stone in her hand.

Vashka and another guard hurriedly stepped forward to separate them. The woman was pushed to the side, falling onto the ground, sobbing uncontrollably.

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