Kayson let me double on his beautiful apple-red chopper to the trial. Streaking through the city like a comet in the night sky. I felt better on account of Suzaki’s healing, but was still a mess; blood sprayed across my jacket, bags under my eyes, and a bit hungover. I was riding the wave of fate, and aside from burning hate for a murderous prick in my chest, there wasn’t much fuel left.

We arrived at the Brass King’s favorite park—the Shinto Shrine in Chen-Square—packed with delinquents wearing our jackets. Each division proudly on display. Kayson steadied me with a hand on my shoulder as I climbed off his bike. “For what it’s worth, I and my squad don’t believe you’re to blame. If I were you, I’d keep my mouth shut about Tristan. I doubt they’ll believe you, and it’ll weaken your position.”

“Means fuck all, don’t it? If we’re letting’em get away with murder?”

He shrugged, not giving me the answer I wanted. We cut past the crowd of Brass—including a few captains and lieutenants—right to the constable gathered right at the lacquered red shrine, all under the gaze of the Stalwart Immortal. The man had a streak of blond dye in his hair and beady eyes that made my skin crawl. Tristan stood next to him, his eyes stabbing into me.

The constable jerked his finger towards a spot before the shrine. My cue. Kayson disappeared into the crowd of Seventh Division. Leaving me to face ‘justice’ on my own terms.

You can bend when faced with fire. Or you can toughen up. I squared my shoulders, and met Tristan’s hostile glare, striding before the whole of the Brass Kings to my assigned spot. This bastard murdered our Captain. I’d be damned if he got away with it. Tristan frowned as he saw something in my expression he didn’t care for.

“Luca Cavicchi, warrior of the Fourth Division, subordinate to Tristan March?” asked the constable. The side conversations petered out as the crowd listened.

“Ya, that’s me,” I said.

“I will ask you a series of questions regarding the death of your Captain, Till Astren. Do you swear to answer completely, and without lie, under the eyes of the Stalwart Immortal?”

It was a heavy oath. But I didn’t plan to lie. I met the constable’s beady eyes, looking away from the psychopath for the first time. “I swear.”

“You were reported fleeing the scene—directly at a moment during the clash with the Crimson Eagles. These actions reportedly led to the death of your captain. Do you understand the severity of this charge?”

“Bullshit! He was bleeding out on the floor before I even started to run!” I jabbed a finger at Tristan. “Because that psycho stabbed him in the back!” a gasp from the crowd. The constable’s eyes widened.

“You dare to level such a serious accusation against your superior?”

“I aint lying. That’s what fucking happened.”

Tristan shook his head and sighed, “Such a waste of time. Of course, the first thing Luca does is to deny responsibility, but to go so far as to accuse me of killing him?! I know you’re a filthy coward, but that’s low, even for you. If it weren’t for you, Captain Till would still be alive. Where is your shame? Fine—If we must. I call my first witness,” he gestured to one of my squad members. A bulky guy with bleached hair and a long nose. He lumbered up and bowed his head. “Please tell the constable what you saw.”

“Tristan told Luca to defend the captain. I turn around—and the captain’s leaking on the floor. Fucked up and gasping. Meanwhile, the runt is pushing out the exit!” I ground my teeth, taking every bit of my willpower not to walk up and punch the lying fuck.

“It’s worse, I’m afraid this horrible subordinate has a history of self-serving interests and ineptitude—please, Ramson, tell us what you witnessed Luca do at the gambling den a few days prior.” Tristan said.

I noticed that the constable didn’t interrupt; wasn’t this his fucking investigation?

“Cheated a game ran by our boys. Lied to the lieutenant. So we punished him.”

Tristan nodded, and the constable stroked his chin. “And how would you describe his overall presence in the squad?” Tristan asked.

“Useless, narcissistic, and unreliable.”

“I believe that is enough.” The constable said. Tristan looked at him with a small smile.

“Are you sure? I have more men willing to testify if you’d like.”

The constable slowly shook his head. I felt a tangible weight in the air as the constable’s eyes latched on me. My Soul Seed resonated, this guy was a cultivator. Someone with a high level. My tongue felt like lead—keeping me from protesting.

“That won’t be necessary. For brevity, I’ll assume their testimony rings similar. I’ve already asked a few pointed questions ahead of his arrival. Further theatrics aren’t needed. Luca.” His eyes snapped to me. “We shall not be pressing into this matter of cheating at our gambling den, as it appears your lieutenant already dished out punishment. However, now is your one chance to explain your act of cowardice which directly lead to the death of Captain Till; may the Immortals whisper his name to the heavens.”

At this he took a sad look at the shrine—the eyes leaving me felt like taking a thousand-pound weight off my back.

I cleared my throat, trying to gather myself together. “Tristan… Tristan killed the Captain. I ran because I was afraid he’d do the same to me. They lied for him. He’s a fucking psycho—and frankly, I can’t even blame them for lying. I’d be afraid to say anything else too. I ran since I thought he’d come shank me next, and I’m sure they think the same too.”

The pressure cut me off from any further words as the constable’s intent hardened. His face grew red, and I found it hard to stand properly.

“Tristan Marsh is a man in good standing. Before you say anything dumber, I will it clear the second reason I’m here, and why I’ve asked the other captains to attend; by the will of the Viceroy, Tristan Marsh is officially appointed as the Captain of the Fourth Division.” Motherfucker. “Our blooming war with the Crimson Eagles requires strong leaders to push for our revenge and territory. Tristan has shown himself capable over the last few months. There is no room for dissonance in our ranks, and war is no place for a coward.” Eyes riddled with pure disgust lingered on me. “I’ve heard enough. By my ruling, this useless bag of trash is to be exiled.”

Blood left my face. This was bad, real bad. Being exiled without a pardon meant both me and my family were free game for any of these fucks to go after. The dangerous glint in Tristan’s expression told me he knew that very well.

“Before my judgment is carried out, per our traditions, I now offer the rite to challenge my ruling. If any captain holds dispute, speak now or hold your peace.” The constable declared, scanning the crowd and lingering on the present captains.