Damn, I recarneted As A Judge in Fantasy World

Abel Carriers, standing at the podium, maintained his stoic expression as he delivered the final sentence.

"I will now sentence you. The defendant disguised the severed hand of a slave as a part of the victim's body and even made a false statement claiming he had killed her. The nature of the crime was extremely heinous, and it caused significant confusion in the investigation. This is not a case that can be easily overlooked."n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

As Abel continued, the atmosphere in the courtroom shifted drastically. The audience, who had previously been sympathetic to Norman Hewitt due to his young age, now seemed to realize the true extent of the boy's evil nature.

"You even lied like that?" one of the spectators gasped.

"Not just a child, but the devil himself," muttered another.

"Oh my! This is terrifying. A kid like that is going to inherit the Hewitt family? This could have been a disaster," someone else whispered, and murmurs of agreement rippled through the room.

The public's sympathy for Norman evaporated in an instant. But Abel was unfazed by the audience's reaction. He continued his sentencing, his voice firm and unwavering.

"Defendant Norman Hewitt, who committed human trafficking of up to twenty people, is sentenced to twenty-five years in prison."

*Bam! Bam! Bam!* The sound of the gavel echoed throughout the courtroom, solidifying Norman's fate.

Abel recalled Skyler Sierra's first trial for a similar crime, where the defendant had been sentenced to twenty years.

Norman, however, received an additional five years for obstructing the investigation. Considering fairness, it was a sufficient punishment. Your journey continues with empire

''I'll be thirty-two when I'm released from prison,''Norman had muttered earlier.

Abel shook his head internally. *Aren't you too young to be thinking about a future like that?*

In a modern correctional facility, such a thought might not seem so strange. But this wasn't a cozy prison in a modern world.

This was a dark fantasy world, and the prisons here were nothing short of brutal. Human rights were not a priority. Abel estimated that Norman Hewitt's chances of surviving his sentence and being released unharmed were less than ten percent.

"Hey, hey! This is ridiculous!" A piercing scream interrupted Abel's thoughts as he prepared to leave his seat. Norman Hewitt, glaring at him with venomous eyes, began to thrash violently.

Abel met the boy's furious gaze with indifferent eyes. 'What are you going to do, staring at me like that?' he thought calmly.

But then, something unexpected happened.

Perhaps because the court reporters had let their guard down, believing Norman to be just a child, no one was prepared for what came next. Norman leaped from his seat and sprinted toward Abel, a sharp dagger clenched tightly in his small hand.

*Tadadadot!*

The sound of Norman's footsteps was drowned out by the gasps and cries of alarm from the courtroom.

"Huh, huh? It's dangerous! Your Honor!" someone shouted.

"Stop him!" cried another, but it was too late.

Norman had already reached the front of the stage, dagger raised to strike.

"Huh!" gasped Judge Colund.

"Oh my!" exclaimed Josef, the other judge.

They, like many others in the room, were frozen in shock. Years of studying the law had not prepared them for a situation like this.

But Abel Carriers was different.

With swift, fluid motion, Abel reacted. "What is this?" he muttered under his breath, moving faster than anyone in the room could comprehend.

*Swish. Kaang!*

Abel swung the gavel he held in his hand, striking the blade with precision. The dagger's trajectory veered off course, and with a quick, powerful twist, the weapon was knocked from Norman's hand.

No matter how high a psychopath's intelligence might be, his body was still that of a child. Abel, on the other hand, was a warrior—one with a fearsome reputation in the North.

"Damn it!"

Norman stumbled, and before he could recover, the court reporters rushed in, pinning the boy to the ground and restraining him.

"I'm sorry, Your Honor," one of the reporters said as they took Norman away.

Abel raised his hand to show he was unharmed and then calmly returned to the podium. After such a brazen attack, he couldn't just let this go unpunished.

"I will resentence Norman Hewitt for attempting to murder a judge, adding twenty-five years to his sentence," Abel declared firmly.

*Bam! Bam! Bam!*

The gavel came down again, sealing Norman's fate.

In truth, procedurally, this was absurd. But Abel Carriers, the supreme judge of the Empire of Enfer, had the authority to surpass all formalities. And wasn't this a fair judgment that everyone in the room could agree on?

"Eww!"

Norman let out a guttural cry as he was dragged from the courtroom, thrashing and screaming in futile rage.

Abel watched him go without a hint of emotion. After a brief pause, he turned and exited the courtroom, leaving the chaotic scene behind him. But as soon as he stepped into the hallway, Abel was greeted by an unexpected figure.

Standing there, waiting for him, was Earl Eddie Hewitt, the defendant's father.

"Ugh! Thank you, Your Highness, the Duke of Carriers," the Earl said, his voice thick with emotion.

Abel raised an eyebrow. *Thanking me? After I sentenced your son to fifty years in prison?*

The Earl, tears streaming down his face, bowed low. "You've done what had to be done," he said, his voice choked with sorrow but also gratitude.

Abel nodded, offering the Earl a small, polite smile. "You're welcome."

It was a rare sight—one that Abel had only witnessed twice in his lifetime. A father, weeping, thanking the man who had condemned his child.

Abel watched Earl Eddie Hewitt, his face lined with sorrow and gratitude, as the man wiped his tears.

Abel wasn't entirely sure how to feel about the Earl's reaction. Part of him understood the relief—Eddie Hewitt had long been aware of his son's dark nature, and perhaps he feared what his son might do if left unchecked. But another part of Abel couldn't help but find the Earl's thanks... peculiar.

It wasn't every day that a father thanked the man who had just sentenced his son to fifty years in a brutal prison. Abel had seen this kind of behavior before, though, in the twisted world of high society, where image and legacy mattered more than personal relationships.

Earl Eddie, still trembling, bowed his head low once more. "You've prevented a greater catastrophe, Your Highness. If my son had been left unchecked... who knows what he might have done next? I... I failed as a father, but you...

you've set things right."

Abel's gaze didn't waver. "I simply upheld the law, Earl Hewitt. The rest was Norman's doing."

"Of course, of course..." Eddie replied quickly, his voice unsteady. "Still, I am in your debt. I will see to it that the Hewitt family name does not sink further into disgrace."

Abel nodded curtly, not offering further comment. He had done what was necessary, and he had no interest in the personal regrets of a nobleman who had allowed things to escalate this far. The courts would always reveal the truth, and this time, the truth had been damning.

This is one of the few trials that Abel won't forget.