Steampunk Era: Mad Abield
Chapter 470 - Three Hundred and Eighteen: Savage Justice (Part One)

Chapter 470: Chapter Three Hundred and Eighteen: Savage Justice (Part One)

"Sorry, I’m late," Casaman said as he entered the conference room, making himself look as if he’d been running, with just the right amount of panting and deep breaths, the image of Casaman Saryan, the lawyer, leaping off the canvas.

His employers smiled and gestured for him to sit down, with the head of the merchants’ guild even opening his mouth, "No problem, Lawyer Saryan, better late than never."

Casaman nodded slightly in acknowledgment, then sat beside his colleagues. As they showed displeasure, Casaman took out a stack of documents, telling his counterparts in just the right low voice, "These are the salary and working hours of Malin Corporation’s various factories, a heap of data. Compared to his peers, our opponent has been generously excessive."

"It seems like you’ve worked hard, Mr. Casaman," the displeasure subsiding, the senior lawyer from the Capital’s leading law firm nodded, "The gods always favor those who are willing to strive."

Casaman nodded with a smile.

From the current situation, neither his colleagues nor his employers were suspects—this indirectly proved that the Archbishop didn’t just want to kill him; his broader intention was to stir up chaos. Taking out a problematic follower was just opportunistic.

Of course, this didn’t mean Casaman was now safe; the Archbishop indeed wanted him dead, as the death of Casaman Saryan, the lawyer, was also part of the grand drama of this bishop of Chaos.

Too bad, he, the protagonist, had let him down.

Casaman, being a mid-tier presence in the lawyer group, basically wouldn’t get a chance to speak, and he gladly spared himself from making a fool of himself at the meeting with his subpar skills.

The steward of Malin Group was no saint either; as the steward of a major group, he had a very strong team of lawyers at his disposal—the royal family’s legal firm, whose chief was the cousin of the current King.

The opposition was well-prepared. As soon as our side mentioned Malin Group’s high wages impacting peers, they pointed out that existing kingdom laws did not require commercial groups to maintain the same salary, and there were even regulations stating that such self-regulatory actions to maintain identical wages were illegal.

This regulation was forcibly added to commercial law by the royal courts three months ago.

The savvy ones present knew exactly why this regulation was added three months ago—it was Malin’s way of upsetting the merchants’ guild.

Of course, the merchants’ guild was also prepared—they argued that this negotiation had been confirmed half a year ago and should be subject to the commercial law of six months prior.

The old commercial law was instituted by the merchants’ guild themselves, of course, but this was something from 200 years ago. Nowadays, the Sydney royal family is in the process of reclaiming the powers that had been distributed away back then.

The merchants were certainly angry, but who could blame them when the Sydney Union was currently the most comfortable nation in the Western Human World? As for the Eastern Human World... that was the territory of Thainan and other black-haired humans.

This time, they stepped up for two reasons: first, because Malin’s actions had indeed affected their business, and second, they wanted to challenge Malin Group to weaken the royal family’s prestige, showing the merchants who were still watching that the merchants’ guild still had clout.

The idea was beautiful, but Casaman thought it was too beautiful. Did they think Lord Malin didn’t have a knife in his hand, or was their heads hard enough to withstand a blade?

Truly brainless.

At that thought, Casaman narrowed his eyes—he noticed the old lawyer raising his hand.

"I would like to call a witness, and I hope the other party will listen to his testimony," he said.

Wow, the juicy part is coming.

Casaman perked up, then he saw a man walk in.

This was a lean man who, upon removing the flat cap from his head, bowed to the assembled lords and gentlemen—a trademark skill of the Northerners, where Nobles arrogant with pride enjoyed the reverence of commoners.

Then the man began to spout nonsense, "I am a refugee who arrived in Carterburg last month. Many others came with me, and we all reside in the manor. But recently, some of them have disappeared, and I do not know where they have gone..."

Casaman chuckled—this sort of insinuation he had seen plenty of times, the suggestion was human trafficking.

This petty tactic, clearly the man sitting opposite him was well-prepared for it: "How old are your companions, sir?"

As expected, the vice-hand to the left of his cousin asked immediately.

"We are all adults, and among us is a young yet stout gentleman who can produce herbal remedies," said the worker.

Mr. Vice-hand shook his head; he turned to look at the mayor who had been an observer and who had just straightened up a bit since the beginning, "I believe this has nothing to do with the current negotiations. Perhaps, we should hand this matter over to the police."

"Why, this might involve criminal activity by the Malin Corporation! I think this gentleman is a very important eyewitness. Mr. Mayor, I urge you to form an investigative team immediately to enter the Malin Corporation’s factories and check if there are other missing cases." Having said that, the experienced lawyer stood up, "Mr. Mayor, the public is listening, please make a decision forthwith!"

.........

"I thought you had gone mad." Faye said to her lover as she helped Malin down from the carriage, "Why did you allow the butler to agree to let the investigative team into the factory, why stop work?"

"I ask you, what will happen next when the factory stops working?" Malin asked Faye.

Faye pondered for a moment, "The workers won’t have wages, the orders for the front-line soldiers won’t be completed, the Dwarves will have nothing to do and then drink and fight, and afterward..." "And afterward, will the workers unite to discuss who exactly has stripped them of their right to work?" Malin asked with a smile as he looked at Faye.

The girl’s eyes shone with intelligence, "The Commercial Guild."

"Who caused the front-line soldiers to lose their weapons?" Malin pressed on.

A resolve filled Faye’s eyes, "The Commercial Guild."

"Who made the nation and Carterburg lose tax revenue?" Malin’s face was full of smiles.

Faye turned to glance at the nearby shop of the Commercial Guild, "The Commercial Guild."

"And when everyone knows that the news put out by the Commercial Guild is fake, what will they do?" Malin extended his hand, waiting for Faye.

Faye embraced Malin’s arm, "If I were the King, I would hang them."

"No, before that, the enraged workers will tear them to pieces. The whistleblower worker was one I had sent out; he was the only Circle Wizard among that group of Wizards who, after drinking the World Tree’s potion, reverted to a Mortal and is now a Mage Apprentice. He has enough loyalty to help me eliminate my enemies," Malin said, smiling as he took out a coin from his pocket and tossed it into the bowl of a beggar by the roadside.

"...Malin, sometimes your ideas are truly frightening," Faye said while holding onto Malin’s arm.

"My dear, I recall telling you that my justice, in the face of the ulterior, would manifest absolute brutality, because I am well aware that justice cannot be asserted with mere words."

Upon arriving at the door of the National Publishing House, Malin presented his identification, and after it was verified by the guard, the gate was opened for him, "Welcome, Mr. Malin."