It's still cold in Turin at the end of winter, and gardeners start to prune the branches of the boulevards, and the unique scent of alder spreads through the streets, adding a touch of spring to this cold winter.

The Turin court has a case, and the matter appeared in the Turin morning newspaper three days ago.

For the nobles who have nothing to do, this is really a new thing on a boring winter day. So the big guy brought refreshments and servants and filled the court's seats early.

The court system has been abandoned for many years, and the guards in charge of patrols are seconded from the City Patrol Bureau, and Reka has specially arranged for two police chiefs from noble backgrounds to be in charge of law and order here, so as not to cause unnecessary trouble.

Half an hour before the court began, the nobles sat comfortably in their chairs and talked, all of them discussing what the nobles had committed, as if they were attending a tea party on the theme of the trial.

The door to the chamber opened, and two nobles, most of whom they knew, were Barrouch Hatfield, the famous old duke of Turin, and Wellington Rona, the Reich's Deputy Minister of Justice.

Seeing these two characters, the trial hall suddenly quieted down, you must know that the status of these two people is not low.

Crossing the auditorium, the two men sat down in eight chairs belonging to the jury.

The scene was a bit of a novelty, and the nobles began to talk like flies again.

There are eight chairs on the jury, and those who occupy these two seats are already the top figures in Turin, but who will be the remaining six?

As if to echo everyone's conjecture, the door to the trial hall was pushed open again.

The nobles craned their necks and looked in the direction of the gate.

Walking into the trial hall, Reka was taken aback by the battle.

But he is no longer the hairy boy he was back then, he is now the acting director of the City Patrol Bureau.

Of course, it was impossible for the acting director to ignore the nobles present, he took off his police hat, saluted, and then sat down next to the deputy minister of justice.

Then into the hall was an old man who looked like a merchant, most of the nobles who used to do business knew him, he was the porter of the Seventh Street Exchange, Kaushek.

Seeing the nobleman in the auditorium, he chuckled twice, showed a mouthful of yellow teeth, and then sat down next to Reka.

If Reka is qualified to be a spectator because of the special status of the City Patrol, why did this old man sit on the jury?

It is important to know that the auditorium only has the power to observe, while the jury has the power to dictate the outcome of the trial.

Turin has only had this regular trial in more than ten years, and if he can sit on the jury, won't he be able to brag in front of his friends for a long time?

Thinking of this, the nobles stirred. A few of the nobles immediately ordered their servants to go to the courthouse, wondering if they could buy a jury seat for negotiation.

But it's clearly too late for them to come and do it now.

The door was pushed open again, and four civilian-looking men slowly walked in.

They had obviously never seen such a big battle, and they cowered and took a few steps forward, like four rats at a loss.

Damn, these four civilians aren't also eligible to sit on the jury!

The nobles were furious, and several nobles immediately stood up and reached out to stop the commoners who wanted to move forward.

Seeing that it was not yet time for trial, a nobleman said in a loud voice.

"I remember, this seat was drawn in the government affairs hall, and I heard that a seat drawn can be paid two silver coins. Well, I'll give you two gold coins, and you give me your place, how about it? ”

The commoners stared at him with a fearful gaze, a look that the nobleman was familiar with, a deliberate hesitation before compromise.

So he increased his stacks.

"Five gold coins, whoever sells them to me first will get five gold coins!"

The sergeant in charge of the patrol quickly came over.

"Viscount Josep, please follow the discipline of the Inquisition."

Being named in public, Joseph was really a little embarrassed, he glanced at the nobles around him, and then stepped in and said.

"I don't know what discipline the trial hall has, after all, this place hasn't opened its doors for more than ten years."

This humorous remark did not elicit a response from the crowd, for everyone saw an old figure appear on the judgment seat, it was Edgar, Chief Justice and President of the Imperial Court.

Although the nobles could dismiss his title, everyone knew his other identity

- He was Badr's teacher, one of the few people the empire must not offend.

Josep sat back in a daze, and watched the civilians sit on the noble jury bench.

With Josep in front of him, the other nobles also dismissed the idea of self-deprecation.

As the clock struck nine o'clock, a prisoner was escorted up, his expression very confused, as if he did not know what was happening.

"Smack"!

The crisp sound of the gavel sounded in the room, and the sound made everyone shut up.

The prisoner stood in the dock, and a police officer stood by his side with a rifle, and he was a little confused by the solemn scene.

He was about to hold on to the fence in front of the defendant's dock, but the officer suddenly said.

"Baron Mavia, please keep your distance!"

The prisoner withdrew his right hand and cursed.

"Damn officer, I'll remember you!"

The officer stood expressionless, ignoring the threat.

The plaintiff, an old man, was supported by two police officers and walked up tremblingly, and then sat down in the plaintiff's seat.

Edgar motioned for the officers to pour him a glass of milk, which calmed him.

When the old man calmed down, Edgar looked around the room, and his solemn voice echoed through the courtroom.

"The trial is for the seizure of Baron Mavia's shop on the Kaheman Exchange on December 9, 226 in East Ikra by the commoner Amino."

He paused, and after seeing the wonderful expressions of the nobles, he continued.

"Then plaintiff, are you the tenant of booth No. 92 on the third floor of the Kaheman Exchange?"

The old man hurriedly held up a rental voucher and household registration certificate, and shook it under Edgar's nose.

The officer handed the item to Edgar, who quickly returned it with a little confirmation.

He then looked at Mavia.

"Defendant, are you the actual operator of Booth No. 92 on the third floor of the Kaheman Exchange?"

Mavia pouted.

"I am."

"Okay."

Edgar nodded, and stretched out his hand to the jury, "Now, the two gentlemen are entitled to raise questions about the members of the jury, and if they think that there is an interest in the jury that may affect the fairness of the judgment, they can apply for a substitution." ”

These people were randomly selected from different groups in the government affairs hall, and the two naturally had no doubt and shook their heads one after another.

After checking the eyes of the eight juries, Edgar rang the gavel again.

"Then this trial will begin now, and the defendant and plaintiff are asked to state whether there is any discrepancy between the content of the incident and the results of this court's investigation."