The morning in the 13th Street still carried the aftershocks of last night's "Sonic War." Although the Landlady's Lion's Roar had shattered the Guild's speakers, it had also loosened quite a few screws in the clinic, which was already barely holding together.

  "Ouch, gentle, gentle!"

  Bone was sitting on the steps of the clinic, holding a pair of small tweezers he’d picked up from somewhere. He was carefully picking through the pile of scrap metal that used to be sonic weapons.

  "Boss, this magnet is good stuff, and this coil is pure copper... We didn't make money on this job, but selling this scrap can at least get us a few meals with meat."

  John Doe was squatting nearby, holding a roll of electrical tape, trying to bind a window frame that had been cracked by the vibrations. Hearing Bone's mumbling, a bitter smile touched his lips.

  "Bone, stop thinking about meat. We are currently major deficit holders."

  John put down the tape and pulled out the heating-up Yin-Yang iPad from his chest pocket. The screen lit up, popping out a new system notification.

  [System Settlement Notification]

  [Event Type: Community Peace Maintenance (Emergency)]

  [Evaluation: Simple, brutal, but extremely effective.]

  [Reward: +500 Merit Points.]

  [Current Balance: -499,500 (Interest accumulating...)]

  "Five hundred..." John looked at the number. It felt like catching a single drop of water in a desert. "This isn't even enough to cover the appearance fee for that one shout last night."

  Ding-dong.

  Immediately after, an automated reminder text from Daoist Singularity popped up, the font bold and red:

  "Disciple, friendly reminder: 48 hours until the interest payment deadline.

  If overdue, the Underworld Mining Group will automatically initiate the 'Soul Conscription' protocol.

  I heard the 18th Layer of Hell opened a new Uranium mine recently. They're short on hands. No food or board included, 24-hour work shifts.

  PS: Don't even think about overdraft summoning again. Your credit score is already purple-red. If you spend recklessly again, I'll come up there and clear the sect myself."

  John swallowed hard, clutching the iPad tightly as if it were a protective talisman.

  "No more summoning," John muttered to himself. "I have to save these 500 points. Even if it's a drop in the bucket, I have to feed the interest pit first. Otherwise, before the Guild kills me, Master will send me to dig coal."

  "Boss! Look up!"

  Bone suddenly stood up, his phalanges pointing toward the gray sky.

  John looked up. No mechs, no helicopters, and no mercenaries radiating killing intent.

  There was only a small, exquisite drone, painted pure white, hovering silently above the clinic. Beneath its fuselage, it didn't carry weapons, but a black document bag tied with a red ribbon.

  "What's that? Another declaration of war?" Bone picked up a brick, alert.

  "No... don't move." John stopped him. "That badge... it's the Scales."

  It was the emblem of the New Babylon Supreme Court. Though under the Guild's control, those scales had long since tipped beyond repair.

  The drone descended slowly, dropping the black document bag precisely at John's feet, then turned and flew back to the Upper Sector without pausing.

  John picked up the bag. It was heavy. The seal was stamped with bright red wax, exuding an undeniable pressure.

  "Grace, scan it." John didn't open it immediately.

  "Scan complete. No explosives, no toxins." Grace's holographic figure sat on John's shoulder, but her expression didn't relax. "But Boss... this might be more troublesome than a bomb. The paper fibers smell like... 'Rules'."

  John took a deep breath and tore open the seal.

  He pulled out a thick stack of documents, dozens of pages. On the top sheet, in bold black font, was a line of text:

  [New Babylon District Court · Lawyer's Letter]

  [Plaintiff: New Babylon Urban Construction & Development Committee, Necromancy Guild Power Group, Bob's Property Management]

  [Defendant: John Doe (and associated accomplices)]

  John's hand trembled as he read on.

  "Dear Mr. John Doe:

  On behalf of the aforementioned clients, this law firm hereby issues this formal letter regarding your recent series of serious illegal and infringing acts.

  Upon investigation, your actions are suspected of violating the New Babylon Urban Security Regulations, Public Facility Protection Act, Anti-Unfair Competition Law, and numerous other regulations. Specific charges are as follows:

  1. Crime of Illegal Architectural Modification: You unauthorizedly carried out military-grade modifications (Lu Ban's traps) to Building 404, 13th Street, seriously threatening public safety.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  2. Crime of Theft of National Energy: You utilized illegal devices (Tesla Tower) to steal and distribute electricity on a massive scale, causing huge economic losses and equipment damage to the Power Group.

  3. Crime of Malicious Noise & Destruction of Public Property: You utilized non-standard sonic weapons (Landlady's Lion's Roar) to maliciously destroy municipal construction equipment (the speakers).

  4. Crime of Illegal Medical Practice & Spreading Superstition: ...

  In summary, the plaintiffs demand:

  1. Immediate cessation of all infringing acts and demolition of all illegal structures/devices.

  2. Public apology and publication of a letter of repentance in city-wide media.

  3. Compensation for various economic and mental damages, totaling: 8,500,000 New Currency.

  If you fail to comply within 24 hours of receiving this letter, we will formally file a lawsuit with the court and apply for forced enforcement. At that time, you will face imprisonment and massive debt."

  At the bottom of the document was a gold-stamped seal and a flowery signature:

  [Chief Legal Advisor: Solomon]

  "Eight... eight and a half million?!"

  Bone leaned in to count the zeros, the soul fire in his sockets nearly flickering out from shock. "Boss, selling us off for parts wouldn't even cover a fraction of that! Why don't they just rob a bank?"

  John clutched the thin sheet of paper, his knuckles turning white from the force.

  He had thought the Guild would send assassins, armies, maybe even drop a missile.

  But he never expected them to use this method.

  This was Lawfare.

  They stood on the moral high ground of "legality," using the rules they wrote themselves to define John's resistance as "crime."

  Bulldozers crushing houses was "Municipal Engineering"; John fighting back was "Violent Resistance."

  They cut the power for "Line Maintenance"; John generating his own was "Theft of Energy."

  They blasted noise for "Construction Needs"; John shouting back was "Destruction of Property."

  "Good calculation... truly a good calculation."

  John laughed in anger, his laugh full of chill.

  "Boss, what do we do? Should I take some guys and smash that law firm?" Bone raised his fist.

  "No." John stopped him immediately. "That would make us actual terrorists. Then they wouldn't even need a trial; they could mobilize the army to raze the 13th Street to the ground legally."

  "We must fight back within the legal framework, or... prove their law is bullshit."

  "But Boss..." Grace said weakly, "We can't afford a lawyer. Lawyers here charge by the minute; it's more expensive than that 'special service' you wanted."

  John glanced at the balance on the iPad.

  500 Merit.

  This money absolutely could not be used to summon a Heroic Spirit. If he missed the interest payment, the consequences would be worse than jail.

  "Since we can't afford local lawyers, and can't summon big-shot Spirits..."

  John's gaze fell on the new button on the iPad interface—[Cross-Realm Support (Beta)].

  It was the backdoor Daoist Singularity left him, allowing contact with living experts in the Eastern Plane. Although it cost money (New Currency), it was much cheaper than summoning Spirits directly, classified as "Remote Consultation."

  "The legal systems are different, but logic should be universal, right?"

  John grabbed the last straw.

  "Grace, connect me. Find... the one who knows the law best, the one best at finding loopholes, preferably a lawyer who can talk the dead back to life!"

  "Roger! Matching keywords: [Outlaw], [Gold Medal Attorney], [Saul Goodman-types]..."

  The screen flickered, and a connection was established.

  A video window popped up showing a man in a decent suit and glasses, with a massive wall of books behind him. He looked like a very shrewd and capable Eastern lawyer.

  "Hello, this is [Redacted] Law Firm, how can I help you?" The lawyer's voice was professional and calm.

  John felt like he saw family. He quickly held the lawyer's letter up to the camera and explained the situation at lightning speed:

  "...and that's what happened! They cut water and power first, they used violent forced demolition, mine was justifiable defense! This is completely an adhesion contract! Do you think we can fight this?"

  The lawyer on the other side pushed up his glasses and carefully read the translated legal provisions on his screen.

  At first, his expression was calm. But as he read, his brow furrowed into a deep knot, and finally turned into utter confusion.

  "Um... Mr. John, right?"

  The lawyer coughed awkwardly.

  "Legally speaking, I sympathize with your plight. But... this New Babylon Necromancy Act you sent me... it's a bit... out of syllabus."

  "For example, this article: 'According to the Corpse Rights Protection Act, unauthorized awakening, movement, or modification of corpses (referring to Bone) without Guild authorization is considered Infringement of Guild Property'."

  The lawyer pointed at the screen, looking absurd.

  "Where I come from, corpses cannot be owned as property by a corporation. And this one, 'Non-registered mages have no right to use supernatural forces for self-defense'... this falls under feudal superstition here; the law doesn't even recognize magic!"

  "Also, this 'Burden of Proof Reversal' is ridiculous. The plaintiff doesn't need to prove you stole electricity; you need to prove your electricity came from a 'legal' source—like proving that Tesla Tower that appeared out of thin air meets building codes..."

  The lawyer sighed and closed his notebook.

  "Mr. John, frankly speaking. This isn't a legal problem; this is a... Setting Problem."

  "In this legal system, you were defined as a 'criminal' from the start. You aren't fighting a lawsuit against a person; you are fighting against the legislative power of the entire city."

  "This case, under this framework, is unwinnable. Unless..."

  "Unless what?" John asked urgently.

  "Unless you can flip the table, or find someone who can... rewrite the rules on this table."

  The video cut off.

  Only the beep-beep-beep of the busy signal echoed in the dead silence of the clinic.

  John slumped, lowering the iPad.

  Failed.

  Common sense, justice, fairness—these principles that worked in other worlds—were completely incompatible with the soil of New Babylon.

  This was a "Perfect Closed Loop" designed specifically to protect the powerful and crush the weak.

  "Boss..." Bone looked at John's ashen face and carefully handed him a piece of scrap metal. "Don't lose hope. Worst case, we run? Back to the sewers?"

  "Run?"

  John looked at the lawyer's letter.

  If he ran, the 8.5 million debt would turn into a bounty on the wanted list.

  If he ran, this building would be bulldozed, and the neighbors would be homeless.

  If he ran, what about his mom?

  He had been pushed into a corner.

  Behind him was a cliff; in front of him was a steel army advancing with the shield of the law.

  He only had 500 Merit. This amount, in front of the colossal judicial beast, wouldn't even make a sound.

  "I can't run."

  John gritted his teeth and slammed the lawyer's letter onto the table.

  "They want to use the rules to play me to death."

  "Then I must find someone... who understands the rules better than they do, or... is more of a hooligan than they are."

  John stared at the iPad screen. He was hesitating, struggling.

  Should he use the last 500 points?

  If he didn't save it for interest, Singularity would explode, and he might be dragged off to dig coal.

  But if he didn't solve this paper, he would die right now.

  It was a dead end.

  John closed his eyes in pain, the lawyer's words echoing in his mind:

  "Unless you can flip the table..."

  Flip the table.

  John's eyes snapped open.

  "Grace, check something for me. Is there a type of lawyer in this world who doesn't talk law, but only talks... 'Logic'?"

  "Or rather, is there a type of person who can argue black into white, and talk the dead into the living?"

  Grace's data stream spun rapidly, finally stopping on a name.

  That was a name that required a terribly expensive price (perhaps not money, but something else) to hire.

  But John couldn't afford it.

  He could only stare at the lawyer's letter, sinking into a deep, suffocating dilemma.

  Outside the window, the Guild's broadcast van began patrolling the neighborhood, playing the cold announcement on a loop:

  "John Doe, please surrender immediately. The law is just; do not offer meaningless resistance..."

  Just?

  John clenched his fist, nails piercing his palm.

  Screw justice.

  [Message from Singularity]

  VIP Suite for you over on the Patreon Server. We are opening New Rooms (Chapters) for FREE daily. Even better? Select Chapters feature HD Illustrations for the full immersive experience.

  ?? [Enter the VIP Suite]