The Return of the Iron-blood Sword Hound

Chapter 29: Special Laws of Vikir (2)
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Chapter 29: Special Laws of Vikir (2)

Dortmeyer Street, the main street of the metropolitan underdog.

A notice on a large banner hung in the center of the crowded street.

It was unusual for the ruling government to post a notice here, but the content of the announcement itself was nothing new.

<Article 00, Section 0 of the Constitution of the Autonomous Region of Baskerville. Law on the Prohibition of Illegal Trafficking in Persons... Penalty: Death>

<Constitution of the Autonomous Region of Baskerville, Article 00, Section 0. Law prohibiting illegal gambling... Penalty: wrist amputation>

<Constitution of the Autonomous Region of Baskerville, Article 00, paragraph 0. Law on the Prohibition of Illegal Private Banking... Penalty: Eyeball removal>

<Article 00, paragraph 0 of the Constitution of the Autonomous Region of Baskerville. Law on the prohibition of illegal brothels... Criminalization: Facial tattooing>.

<Constitution of the Autonomous Region of Baskerville, Article 00, Section 0. Law against illegal lobbying... Sentence: deportation from the territory> .

.

.

All laws that were originally there.

They are quite strict because they are the laws of a territory controlled by Ironblood Baskerville.

But few citizens trusted them to be upheld.

"Chet. Laws only favor those with power."

"It's all the same to the big guys."

"Isn't it a world where the law-abiding are the losers?"

"The law is far away, the fist is closer."

The citizens of Underdog City, which has an unusually high crime rate, scoff at the Manahan Law.

They've seen it all before, how the bureaucrats from Baskerville, the fat cats, and the second and third generations of Sedoga collude to get their way.

The moneyed, the powerful, and the mighty make it work in their favor, interpret it, enforce it, and....

If you're broke, poor, and powerless, there's nothing you can do about it.

All they can do is cry, drink, blame themselves for their bad luck, or take out their anger on those less fortunate and weaker than them.

Underdog citizens accustomed to this fate are naturally distrustful of the law.

"Well, at least the previous deputy magistrates were busted for bribery, so maybe it will make a difference."

"Of course not, the new deputy from Baskerville is 15 years old."

"What? Fifteen is the same age as my youngest daughter. What's a girl like that supposed to do...."

"That's what I'm saying. Pretty soon she'll be roasting in the lobby of the local lords."

Public opinion was not very favorable to the new deputy.

Some cite his age, some cite his unwritten laws, some cite his scattered gangs, and some cite the myriad temptations that await the novice bureaucrat.

Just then.

"Hey, guys, come on down to the main square! Big news!"

The already bustling place became even more bustling.

People rush to the square to see what's going on.

Thousands and thousands of people.

And in the middle of it all, as if a meteorite had fallen, there is an empty spot.

A circular space where no one has set foot.

In the center of it all, a cold-faced boy stands with a stick.

It was Vikir van Baskerville, the newest deputy magistrate, 15 years old.

* * *

Vikir held a stick in his hand.

Seventy centimeters long. A small stake weighing about three kilograms.

People crowded around to see the new deputy magistrate, but they never got close.

That's because of the mountainous energy emanating from the boy's tiny body.

Behind this untouchable aura, several government officials stood nervously.

They were employees of the Executive Office, including Chihuahua Baskerville.

"Oh, my God, what is he going to do?"

"He's been standing there since the crack of dawn, do you understand?"

"There's a lot of people here, wow-"

The citizens and officials alike had no idea what Vikir was trying to do here.

Then.

"Listen."

Seeing that the audience was more or less gathered, Vikir spoke.

"I am the new deputy magistrate."

The murmurs around him grew louder.

"He's that young?", "He looks even younger in person", "He's cute", "What would a kid like that do?", and other unserious comments.

Ignoring the stares and voices, Vikir continued.

"I'm sure you've all seen the notice on the north side of the square."

For a moment, the crowd's eyes shifted to the north.

Sure enough, there it was, a law written on a large banner.

<Constitution of the Autonomous Region of Baskerville, Article 00, Section 0. Law against tax evasion... Sentence: kneecap removal>.

<Article 00, paragraph 0 of the Constitution of the Autonomous Region of Baskerville. Law against smuggling... Sentence: waterboarding

<Constitution of the Autonomous Region of Baskerville, Article 00, paragraph 0. Law against illegal drugs... Sentence: tongue amputation>

<Constitution of the Autonomous Region of Baskerville, Article 00, Section 0. Law Against Embezzlement of Munitions... Punishment: Extermination of three legs>

<Constitution of the Autonomous Region of Baskerville, Article 00, Section 0. Law against adultery... Sentence: 600 lashes> .

.

.

Well, they're familiar laws that aren't followed.

Laws that are only abstract to the weak who have no money, no power, and no strength.

The number of commoners punished by these laws since their inception is unknown, and the number of nobles and noblemen punished is zero, a cold reality.

The people's gaze shifted away from the banner and back to Vikir.

Vikir continued.

"Those are the laws that have been in place since time immemorial, the very laws that have kept Baskerville's self-governance alive."

A small chuckle escaped him.

It was a clear mockery of laws that were not being followed, of a justice system that was not being followed except by the rich, powerful, and mighty.

But Vikir did not seek out and punish the laughter.

"...."

He simply scanned the public with an indifferent gaze.

It was an attitude that lay somewhere between generosity and indifference.

Vikir continued, his voice dry again.

"The laws of Baskerville still stand, and they will be upheld, despite the change in Vice-Regent."

When Vikir didn't respond to the audience's jeers, they got a little bolder.

"Pfft!", "Of course!", "Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.

The Chihuahua office manager, who couldn't believe what he was seeing, yelled from the back.

"You people, what kind of safety do you think you're talking about? This is a man from the Baskerville family! Will it take a blade to slice through his throat to get him to come to his senses!"

Chihuahua's director is a local official who is well-liked by the citizens.

So even the people who were booing him craned their necks in recognition.

"Chet. Mr. Chihuahua is talking over there, let's stop."

"Gee, I wonder how the director is more charismatic than the deputy director."

"I'd rather have Mr. Chihuahua be the deputy."

"Look at that little guy. He can't even respond to the boos without Mr. Chihuahua."

"The law is about to get even more fucked up."

These are reactions that would have been unthinkable under normal circumstances, but Vikir's youthfulness, youthful face, and indifference to the reactions around him allowed them to get away with it.

"...."

This time, Vikir didn't react at all.

Even in this atmosphere of being compared to and devalued by his subordinate Chihuahua, Vikir simply stood there with an expressionless face.

The city officials, including Chihuahua's secretary general, blushed and didn't know what to do.

Meanwhile, even the citizens, who were booing at Vikir's unresponsive behavior, were feeling drained.

"Maybe he's just a kid, but he can't handle these insults."

"How can a kid like him be expected to enforce the law?"

"He's just going to let the criminals run rampant ... for a while."

Gazes of abandonment and resignation, mockery and anger, pity and contempt, were being directed at one Vikir.

And then.

Vikir raised the stick he was holding high.

And then.

...poof!

He drove it straight into the ground.

Ten centimeters into the ground.

It's pretty heavy, but it's only a small stake.

A child could easily pull it out.

...?

When all the citizens are looking puzzled.

Vikir, who had taken a few steps back, spoke up.

"I am hereby promulgating a new special law under the legislative authority of the Deputy Magistrate."

Article 1, Section 1 of the Vikir Special Law.

"Whoever pulls this stake will be paid 100 million gold in cash."

It was as simple as that.

This content is taken from (f)reewe(b)novel.𝗰𝗼𝐦

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