73: Chapter 73 Denying the Ball's Length

In the courtroom, Thompson sat on the hard wooden chair of the defendant's dock; today, he wasn't wearing his police uniform, nor was he wearing a tie.

He had been a police officer for twenty-two years, but today he only wore an old gray shirt with a loose collar, and even the top button was left undone.

There was no lawyer in front of him, no defense counsel, and no documents to speak on his behalf; in truth, he hadn't intended to defend himself at all.

Ironically, just a few days ago, he was still the hero printed on T-shirts during that farce called "Humanity Wont Kneel."

But now, sitting in this room, he had become a sinner of the entire Blue Star.

He looked at the judge without any flicker in his gaze, simply nodding calmly: "I admit it."

A low buzz immediately erupted from the gallery, which was only suppressed after the judge struck the gavel twice more.

A young prosecutor named Harvey, wearing round-framed glasses, stood up from the front row. He cleared his throat and began reading Thompson's charges one by one, using the feigned grief and indignation he had practiced in law school moot courts.

Every charge began with: "It is precisely because of the defendant's actions that the Blue Star civilization almost..."

For example, one charge stated: It was precisely his refusal to provide food to Chen Mu that almost pushed Chen Mu's perception of the entire Blue Star civilization to an irreversible edge.

With every line he read, the people in the gallery and outside erupted in even more violent insults.

"Scum!" "Disgrace!" "The executioner who almost killed all of humanity!" "Hang him!"

Thompson looked at those people; among them were his former colleagues, his neighbors, and the citizens who, just days ago, had held "Blue Star Hero Thompson" banners above their heads.

At this moment, their faces were distorted with rage, their lips twisting, spit flying everywhere.

They scrambled to speak, fearing their voices weren't loud enough or their anger wasn't conspicuous enough.

He had been a detective for twenty-two years and had solved countless cases; he was no stranger to the courtroom.

He knew very well that they weren't seeking justice; they wanted to use his blood as a pledge of loyalty to that Chen Mu, whom he had once handcuffed in an interrogation room.

Harvey finished reading the charges with great emotion, looked around, and nodded slightly upon seeing that the jury's emotions had been stirred.

He gave Thompson a disdainful look, then said to the judge, "Your Honor, I request to call witnesses. They can all prove that Officer Thompson has severe anti-social tendencies."

The judge nodded: "Call the witnesses."

The first to take the stand was a logistics clerk from the Seventh Precinct. She had worked at the station for thirteen years, primarily managing the surveillance footage of the interrogation rooms.

She had surveillance evidence proving that during his twenty-plus years as a detective, Thompson had more than once used violence to extract confessions from drug dealers.

The second person was Thompson's elementary school teacher, who said Thompson always fought with classmates at school, which was enough to prove he had violent tendencies.

Next, Thompson's neighbors, his mother's former colleagues, his classmates from the Police Academy, and others took turns appearing.

From various angles, they testified that Thompson had exhibited severe anti-human and anti-social tendencies since childhood, including but not limited to shouting at his parents, walking his dog without a leash, and spitting in public.

The crowd outside was in an even greater uproar, the waves of condemnation against Thompson growing increasingly turbulent.

Amidst the crowd's insults, Thompson raised his hand, pinched the loose button, passed it through the buttonhole, and fastened it.

Then he straightened his collar, just as he did every morning when putting on his police uniform.

He had repeated this series of movements for twenty-two years; it required no thought.

For twenty-two years, he had walked into countless interrogation rooms in his uniform, facing countless suspects.

Now, he sat in the defendant's dock himself, but at the very least, this made him look like someone who hadn't been broken.

He looked calmly at the judge: "Your Honor, I have something to say."

The judge looked at him from over his gold-rimmed glasses and, after a moment, nodded.

Thompson stood up and walked to the microphone, his hands hanging at his sides. His gaze swept over those in the gallery who had been hurling insults just moments ago.

"Twenty-two years ago, I was sworn in as a New York police officer. That day, I raised my right hand and swore upon the flag and the badge to protect the people of this city."

"During this time, I've arrested many people. I know some deserved it, while others were just driven to crime by desperation. I admit, I'm certainly not some good man, nor am I a hero."

His voice suddenly grew heavier: "That day, I handcuffed Chen Mu in the interrogation room and starved him for over ten hours; later, I even pointed a gun at his head."

"I did all those things. I admit it."

His gaze fell upon the witness stand; the row of witnesses who were caught in his sight almost instinctively looked away.

"But I do not admit to those crimes against humanity you speak of. I do not admit to being the sinner you claim almost destroyed the Blue Star."

"Those are nothing but lies you've fabricated and forced upon me, just to make me sound more like a sacrifice worthy of being offered up."

He placed his hand on the desk of the defendant's dock: "At the same time, I do not recognize Chen Mu as the Ball Chief. Not because he isn't from Blue Star, but because in my twenty-two years as a police officer, I have never seen the position of 'Ball Chief' in the Constitution."

"You can vote for him, you can hold him up as a savior, lick his boots, or even turn all of New York upside down to please him—that's your business. But I do not recognize him."

He looked at everyone with a solemn expression: "If you want to hang me for this, then please, feel free!"

Thompson sat down, not looking at anyone else, just staring straight ahead.

The buttons on his chest were neat, and his posture was upright, as if he were a warrior about to walk onto an execution ground.

"Audacious!" Harvey, standing behind the prosecution desk, suddenly slammed the table and roared, "You... what did you just say? You don't recognize Ball Chief Chen Mu?"

He pointed sharply at Thompson in the defendant's dock, his finger shaking violently in the air, his arm waving so much that he knocked over the water cup in front of him.

"Ball Chief Chen Mu is the sun of our Blue Star! It was he who saved the entire Blue Star civilization, and it was he who gave us the ticket to interstellar trade, letting humanity see the dawn of stepping out of the cradle for the first time!"

"It's safe to say that without Ball Chief Chen Mu, there would be no Blue Star as it is today. Who do you think you are, Thompson? What right do you have to not recognize him? Who gave you the nerve to not recognize him?"

The jury also immediately erupted in insults, shouting to have Thompson hanged.

Harvey looked at the judge: "Your Honor, you heard it with your own ears. Thompson has publicly shown disrespect to the Lord Ball Chief. I suggest reinstating hanging for him, as a warning to others!"

"That's right, hang him! Ball Chief Chen Mu is our sun; anyone who crosses Ball Chief Chen Mu crosses all of humanity!" The people outside the door also began shouting and screaming.

Yet Thompson remained sitting upright, ignoring them as if they were just a pack of spineless dogs barking at him.

"Silence!" The judge struck the gavel heavily. Once the room quieted down, he closed his eyes to think for a moment, then announced loudly: "Now, this court formally pronounces the verdict."