74: Chapter 74 The Price of Heroes

In the courtroom, as the judge's gavel fell, the room became so quiet that a pin could be heard dropping.

Everyone looked at the judge expectantly, except for Thompson, who closed his eyes and waited for death.

He knew very well the consequences of saying those things, but he didn't care; anyway, the people in this courtroom never intended to let him live from the very beginning.

"Defendant Vincent Thompson, this court finds that you did indeed engage in improper conduct during the law enforcement process and should bear the corresponding responsibility. However, the so-called 'crimes against humanity' alleged by the prosecution are not accepted due to a lack of substantial evidence."

"The judgment is as follows: You are required to pay one million dollars in compensation to Blue Star Planet Chief Chen Mu. Furthermore, due to your improper conduct, you are dismissed from public office. This court will not pursue the remaining charges."

As the judge's gavel fell heavily, everyone was stunned.

Harvey was the first to spring up from the prosecution bench. "Your Honor!" Harvey roared angrily. "Thompson just insulted Ball Chief Chen Mu in public. He said with his own mouth that he doesn't recognize the Ball Chief. Everyone present heard it!"

"This is a blatant desecration of the Lord Ball Chief! It is a betrayal of all humanity! You cannot just let him go like this! This verdict is an insult to Blue Star Civilization!"

The old judge looked at him from above his gold-rimmed glasses, his clouded eyes holding a calmness polished by time.

He placed the gavel on the table, crossed his hands over his chest, waited for Harvey to finish shouting, and then spoke: "I am a judge. The oath I took back then was to uphold the Constitution. This Constitution wasn't written by me, nor was it written by you, but as long as you and I stand in this courtroom, it is the supreme standard that we both must follow."

"This Constitution stipulates that citizens of the United States have freedom of speech and freedom of belief. You may disagree with the statement made by the defendant Thompson just now; you may consider him ignorant, stubborn, and out of touch, but his statement itself does not constitute a crime."

"Therefore, the objection is overruled!"

Harvey's face turned the color of pig liver as he pointed a finger at the judge: "You, you..."

He searched his mind for every legal provision, only to find that the old judge was right.

Meanwhile, the gallery on the other side instantly erupted. In the jury box, a middle-aged woman stood up abruptly, her hair even coming loose from her excitement.

She pointed at the judge and roared in a shrill voice, "Are you protecting him? You're actually protecting this criminal against humanity?"

"Are you worthy of Ball Chief Chen Mu? Are you worthy of us ordinary people who were almost scared to death by the sun going out? You don't deserve to be a judge! You don't deserve it at all! You are a criminal against humanity! You're in cahoots with Thompson!"

The jurors beside her also stood up one after another, beginning to madly curse Thompson and the judge. Some even tried to climb over the railing to get physical, but fortunately, they were stopped by the bailiffs in time.

Consequently, the crowd began picking up water bottles and hurling them toward the defense bench, roaring, "Retrial! Retrial! Retrial!"

The old judge was silent for a moment, then slowly spoke amidst the tidal wave of insults: "Personally, I have great respect for Ball Chief Chen Mu, but the law is what it is. If the Ball Chief feels there is an issue with my sentencing..."

He looked at the crowd: "Then he can choose to change the Constitution. This trial is adjourned."

He stood up and left the judge's bench from the side. Simultaneously, the bailiffs immediately surrounded Thompson, shielding him as they moved toward the back door exit of the courtroom.

Thompson kept his head down. He truly hadn't expected the old judge to actually sentence him according to the law. However, he understood even better that while the trial in the courtroom was over, the trial outside the courtroom had only just begun.

The bailiffs walked out of the court's back door, surrounding and protecting Thompson as they walked quickly toward a police transport vehicle.

Someone in the crowd screamed: "It's him! Don't let him get away!"

That scream was like a match thrown into a barrel of gasoline; the entire crowd ignited instantly.

The crowd began to push and surge forward. The bailiffs immediately linked arms to form a human wall, but the crowd's strength was too great, and the bailiffs' riot shields couldn't hold them back at all.

"Smash him to death!!!"

Someone suddenly threw the first egg; it flew out from the center of the crowd and struck Thompson accurately on his left shoulder.

Thick egg yolk flowed down the shoulder seam of his gray shirt, pooling into a pale yellow, translucent stain at the cuff.

Immediately after, a second, a third, a fourth... eggs, rotten tomatoes, wilted lettuce, blackened banana peels, spoiled mashed potatoes, and even a few baguettes found from somewhere that were hard enough to be used as weapons.

All sorts of rotten food scraps flew out from the crowd like a rainstorm, weaving a multicolored, foul-smelling parabolic net in the air, all pelting Thompson.

People cursed at the top of their lungs: "You son of a bitch!" "Scum of humanity!" "Go die!" "Get off Blue Star!" "You have no right to live on this planet!"

A white-haired old lady turned her shopping bag inside out, pulled out two green peppers that had been forced on her as a special deal a few days ago, and threw them at Thompson with all her might.

After throwing them, she stood there gasping for breath, tears streaming down her wrinkled cheeks as she repeatedly muttered one sentence: "You almost killed us, you almost killed us all..."

Sima Bei, with a shoe print tattooed on his face, was holding up his phone and live-streaming the whole event. The bullet comments on the screen scrolled frantically at a speed unrecognizable to the naked eye.

He roared at the camera: "You all see this! This is what happens when you don't recognize the Ball Chief! He's finished! Long live Ball Chief Chen Mu!"

In the center of it all, amidst this rain of trash and curses, Thompson walked in silence.

No anger or humiliation could be seen on his face; he didn't dodge, he didn't raise his hand to block, and he didn't even look back at anyone.

His leather shoes stepped on the sidewalk covered in egg yolk and rotten vegetable leaves, making a squelching sound with every step.

Egg yolk flowed down his arm, trailing a thin silver line that was trampled into nothingness by the surging crowd behind him.

The bailiffs cleared the way ahead, using their bodies to push through the surging tide of people, shouting for them to move aside, but their voices were drowned out by the deafening roar, like a few pebbles thrown into a waterfall.

Some reached out their arms, wanting to pull Thompson out from among the bailiffs with their own hands; others threw torn-up protest signs at him with all their might, the fluttering scraps of paper drifting in the air like a fall of dirty snow.

The bailiffs pushed Thompson into the back seat of the police transport vehicle and slammed the door shut.

But eggs and rotten vegetable leaves still pelted the car windows, shattering into sticky fragments.

Through the glass, which was so smeared he could barely see out, Thompson looked outside and saw those distorted faces.

Most of them were, surprisingly, the same group of people who had printed his image on T-shirts and held him above their heads during the "Humanity Wont Kneel" event a few days ago.

The video ended there. Chen Mu leaned back on the sofa, lost in thought for a long time.

Although he hadn't ordered anyone to go after those who had opposed him, the fear of being liquidated spread like a plague nonetheless.

They were trying to send a former hero to the altar to appease the anger of him, the Ball Chief. This was the price of a hero.

Looking back at the human history of his previous life, most heroes, whether ancient or modern, Chinese or foreign, did not meet very good ends.

Just then, Maya pushed open the door: "Chen Mu, the President and the others have arrived. They are waiting for you in the meeting room."