The Cold World

The Cold World

On the carriage ride home, Hobart impatiently opened the file and began reading.

Just as Barton had said, the case was simple. The defendant, Mr. Robin, had borrowed 200 Pounds in cash from his friend, Mr. Henry, for an investment. However, Mr. Robin's investment had failed, and it was said that he had lost everything.

Mr. Henry had recently found himself urgently in need of money. After failing to recover the debt, he had no choice but to take his former good friend, Mr. Robin, to court.

Mr. Henry had an IOU, witnesses, and ample evidence. The case could practically be concluded as soon as court opened.

Though he was merely going through the motions, Hobart still attached great importance to his first court hearing. In his mind, he began rehearsing a fierce courtroom debate with Mr. Robin, culminating in his request to the judge for compulsory enforcement and Mr. Robin's eventual defeat.

At dinner, Christine had the female servant pour Hobart a glass of wine. "Tomorrow, you'll officially begin work. It's an important step in your life. Have a drink to celebrate."

Hobart did not refuse. After a few sips, he gradually became more talkative. "Donna, even if I'm not at school to keep an eye on you anymore, you're still not allowed to date. Those boys are far too immature."

Donna pouted. "I don't need you watching over me either. Besides, there are plenty of boys who are mature and steady, or funny and good at talking."

Hobart took a sip of wine. "No, no, no. You don't understand. I'm a boy—I know better what they're thinking."

Although Hobart felt somewhat distant from this family, both the original owner of this body and Hobart himself had tried their best to fulfill the responsibilities of an older brother.

Especially since, no matter where they attended school, Hobart was always one grade ahead of Donna. Naturally, he felt protective of her.

Christine said with a chuckle, "Listen to Hobart on this matter."

Donna stuck out her tongue in a most unladylike manner. She seemed to have taken Hobart's words to heart, but whether she would actually obey them was another matter entirely.

After dinner, Hobart returned to his room and took out the file again, reading it several more times. He considered all kinds of possibilities and unforeseen developments, and did not even go to the Country of Disorder to continue his exploration.

Yet everything that happened at the Magistrate Court the next day still far exceeded Hobart's expectations.

Hobart still rode the family's four-wheeled carriage to work. The carriage first took Donna and Tyrone to school, then headed straight for the Magistrate Court.

There were many Magistrate Courts in Backlund. This case was heard by the Magistrate Court in Jowood District.

Although the Magistrate Court had two large windows, the lighting was still poor. Apart from the judge's bench, the Plaintiff Seat, and the defendant's seat, there was only a small gallery furnished with two rows of crude wooden benches.

Today's defendant, Mr. Robin, was nothing like the deadbeat Hobart had imagined. He wore a shabby coat and a patched hat.

To show his respect for the court, Mr. Robin removed his hat and held it in his hands. With a pleading expression, he said, "Your Honor, sir lawyer, please give me one month. I'll definitely repay the money after one month.

"Or I can pay it back in installments. I can pay 2 Pounds a week—no, 3 Pounds would be fine too. Please, don't sell my house. I don't want to lose my home, and I don't want my family to have to move to the East End or Bridge District."

This was entirely beyond Hobart's expectations. While reviewing the materials, he had unconsciously taken the plaintiff's side and had always imagined the Defendant as the villain. But Mr. Robin clearly had no intention of defaulting on the debt, and he had his own difficulties as well.

Hobart flipped through the documents again. Mr. Robin's only asset was his small house.

He tried his best to suppress his sympathy. "Mr. Robin, I sympathize with your situation, but if your house is not auctioned off to repay the debt, my client's family will go bankrupt. Must they move to the East End or Bridge District instead?"

Mr. Robin had nothing to say. He glanced at his former friend with some shame.

Mr. Henry was clearly reluctant as well, but he still said nothing. Just as Hobart had said, if he softened his heart, his entire family would suffer along with him.

Hobart continued, "Mr. Robin, I saw in the documents that you have a stable job paying around 3 Pounds a week, as well as a house inherited from your father, so you don't need to pay rent.

"An income of 3 Pounds is enough for your family to live a life close to that of the middle class. Why did you insist on taking the risk of investing? You are an adult. Since you chose to invest, you must take responsibility for your choice.

"I suggest that you rent a room in the East End, work hard, and perhaps in a few years, you may be able to buy back the house that is being auctioned off."

Finally, he said, "Your Honor, I request compulsory enforcement."

The judge had long since grown impatient. He immediately approved Hobart's request.

After auctioning off a defendant's assets, the court received a handling fee of no less than 10%. This was the Magistrate Court's primary source of income.

In civil economic cases at Magistrate Courts throughout the Loen Kingdom, compulsory enforcement judgments accounted for an extremely high proportion. Many middle-class families went bankrupt because of them.

After Mr. Henry and Mr. Robin's case ended, Hobart was deeply troubled. He sat in the gallery for more than ten minutes before leaving to take a public carriage back to the Aslan-Barton Law Firm.

Hobart first went to report the result of the case to Barton.

Seated in a leather chair, Barton glanced at Hobart. "You looked exhausted."

"I just..." Hobart gave a bitter smile. "I just suddenly realized that I had been living in such a cold world."

Before this, he had only lived in the small world of Backlund's upper society. He had forgotten that this was Loen, this was Backlund—an era of primitive capital accumulation.

"What do you think we are?" Barton took a sip of Coffee. "We are a pack of wolves in Backlund. Whenever we see a sheep, we bite off a piece of its flesh."

Hobart froze. "Is that what lawyers are?"

Barton smiled. "If you think lawyers are the Vanguard of Justice, then you are gravely mistaken. But if there is no justice in your heart, then you will never be a good lawyer."

He said, "Go back and rest today. Come early tomorrow morning and accompany me to handle an economic dispute entrusted by Earl Hall."

Hobart nodded. "All right."

On the carriage ride home, Hobart gradually figured some things out. He should not have been so quick to define the characters of the plaintiff and defendant. His clients could not possibly always stand entirely on the side of justice; some clients might not even stand on the side of justice at all.

But as a lawyer, he still had to fight for and protect his clients' interests. That was the court. Outside the courtroom, however, he could do everything in his power to help those who deserved help.

During dinner, Hobart asked the female servant for a glass of wine, then said to his adoptive father and mother, "Father, Mother, thank you for protecting me all these years. Only today did I learn what the world without your protection is like."

Christine patted Hobart's shoulder with satisfaction. "Time truly flies. In the blink of an eye, you've grown up."

Monlisa, meanwhile, was so moved by Hobart's sudden gratitude that she nearly burst into tears.

Thank you to Yuzhe for the 100-point reward, and thank you for the continuous rewards over the past three days.