IGTL Chapter 18

Chapter 18 – A Shady Lawyer (2)

“Terribly sorry to call again. This is attorney Noume Hachiya from the Noume Legal Consultation Office, and—”

I hung up without a word.

Then I blocked the number and switched my phone back to my favorite web novel.

Lawyers sure were relentless. I guess that’s what you get when you’re well-paid, tireless service for your client. From the victim’s side, though, that “service” felt like pure harassment.

Did this Noume attorney have no sense of decency? What time did he think it was? 8 p.m. People were trying to enjoy a good drink, and he had to go and kill the mood.

I sipped my extra-large highball and sighed.

“Phew.”

Right now, this Mega Highball was my only balm. Still, this was getting troublesome. I’d already decided not to go home for a while and to hole up at the Candeo Hotel, but I needed a plan.

That persistence of his wasn’t normal. Even after I’d posted that video, me getting beaten senselessly by those high schoolers and having my 30 million yen scratch ticket stolen, someone still chose to defend them.

Could he be a public defender?

I heard that the public defender system would be free, so that’s a possibility.

Whatever. For now, I’d prioritize drinking. Thinking about those punks while I ate and drank would only spoil perfectly good food and booze.

“Oh, the flame’s out, must be about thirty minutes.”

I set my glass down, lifted the lid on the chicken kama-meshi, and a heavenly aroma rose with the steam.

This would be good.

I fluffed the rice with the paddle, served some into a small bowl, and brought it to my mouth with my chopsticks.

Yeah. Tasted like happiness. It soaked right into the soul. I couldn’t imagine a Japanese person disliking this.

I chased it with my Highball. That pairing was unbeatable.

That night I ate and drank my fill at Torikizoku, then headed back to the Candeo Hotel.

◇◆◇

While I was drinking at Torikizoku, Attorney Noume at the Noume Law Consultation Office was glowering at the desktop phone in his hand, seething.

“Damn it! What is wrong with this guy! Who blocks a lawyer’s number, what is he thinking!?”

It was 8 p.m. Sure, a bit late. But given his clients’ situation, the sooner he could push this toward a settlement, the better. That was why he’d called. The first time, the call got brushed off as a wrong number. The second time, it was cut the instant it connected. The third call, only a few minutes later, landed him on the block list.

He’d set a junior to keep watch at the man’s apartment, but there was no sign of him returning, and now the phone route was cut. No contact meant no settlement talks, period. If days slipped by like this, the criminal process would begin.

He’d actually met the boys. They were good kids. They were remorseful, saying they wanted to apologize to the victim, Takahashi Kakeru. As for the 30-million yen scratch ticket, they claimed they had lost it. That wasn’t a problem, he decided. They’d probably misread the ticket and convinced themselves it was a winner. He’d already advised his clients to tell investigators they had mistaken an ordinary ticket for a jackpot, to keep the written statements from skewing in the prosecution’s favor. Saddling them with a 30-million yen debt would be cruel.

Still, this man, Takahashi Kakeru, was something else, and the people spreading that video too. Under Article 61 of the Juvenile Act, media are barred from reporting information that would identify juveniles, in consideration of their rehabilitation. Yet the video showed not just their names, but their school and even clear footage of their faces.

Worse, reports said the man had gone to a hospital right after the assault, likely to secure a medical certificate. He was very thorough. Without that, this would be far easier; as it stood, nothing was going his way.

And now the call block. Noume felt a surge of anger at Kakeru’s complete indifference to the boys’ faint hope of rehabilitation.

Yes, the boys had done something society couldn’t condone. But things like this were not unheard of in adolescence. It’s through such missteps that youths become adults. Couldn’t they be given at least a chance to reform?

Even a wayward youth would one day be an adult, an essential member of society. If a mature democratic society rests on individual dignity, then foreclosing paths to rehabilitation was a loss for everyone. What if, denied another chance, they strayed further and joined an organized crime group? That would only breed more criminals.

But without contact, no settlement could be reached. And the other side was clearly taking steps to shut off every avenue.

In robbery-causing-injury cases, typical settlement amounts fold in medical costs for injuries and mental health treatment, transportation expenses, lost wages from missed work, and consolation money for pain and fear. From what he’d gathered, the prognosis was two months. Kakeru was currently unemployed. All told, a million yen should cover it. As for that 30-million yen scratch ticket, there was no proof. For the boys’ future, it could be ignored.

The question was whether Kakeru would accept that figure.

“Is it going to be tough after all…?”

The boys and their parents simply had no capacity to shoulder 30 million yen. If they did, they wouldn’t even qualify for court-appointed counsel.

“All right, I’ll at least send a content-certified letter…”

If he refused to come home, that actually made one thing convenient. A content-certified letter records who sent what to whom and when at the post office, valuable evidence later to show, “We tried repeatedly to reach out, but the other party refused to engage.”

If that failed, there was always depositing funds or making an atonement donation. An atonement donation, money given to a bar association or charity, could, in some cases, mitigate criminal penalties.

Either way, the case was sure to land in a Family Court juvenile hearing.

Normally, juvenile hearings were closed to protect rehabilitated youths from future harm, with outcomes like probation or commitment to a juvenile training school. But this was robbery causing injury, injuring someone in the course of a robbery, so they could face “indeterminate imprisonment or a term of six years or more” even as juveniles. They weren’t under fourteen; they were all high-schoolers, fifteen and up.

With talks stalled, what could he do? It looked like he’d be wrestling with that question for days.

◇◆◇

While Attorney Noume worried, I soaked in the open-air Sky Spa, the Candeo Hotel’s bath closest to the night sky, then returned to my room.

—8.30 p.m.

I made preparations for tomorrow, lay back on the bed, and murmured, “—Connect ‘Different World.’” I logged into DW.

“Knew it…”

I had a hunch. Maybe I could log into DW just by saying the words, even without the headset.

I hadn’t expected it to actually work, though, so that rattled me.

Huh? What even is this? I could really travel back and forth between Japan and this world, me alone? That was insane.

But if that ever got out, things would get ugly. I’d keep it a secret for now. For my own safety.

Anyway, that aside, since I was here, it was time to grind. Leveling, let’s go.

At level thirty, I couldn’t tackle upper-tier dungeons. Realistically, I could manage the mid-tier volcano dungeon, “Volcano Cave.” That was fine, mid-tiers were perfect for grinding. And I had the Elementals.

Four Elementals circled me, as if tugging at my sleeve: Hurry up, to the dungeon!

Okay, okay, right away. If I could commute between DW and Japan, then any stats here would reflect over there. The stronger I got, the more money I made, the closer I’d be to a cushy, work-free life.

And I’d noticed something while washing up in the Sky Spa: my face and body were gradually becoming more like Kakeru, my DW avatar.

I’ll admit, that surprised me. DW turning “real” came with unexpected side effects.

My twenty-three-year-old, average-build body was inching toward the adventurer Kakeru’s. A happy accident. Honestly, my avatar didn’t look that different from me now, because when I made the character at eighteen, I modeled him after myself for immersion. With one wrinkle: pride made me dial his looks up just a notch. And I locked the age at eighteen.

Which meant I was trending back toward my eighteen-year-old self.

What I’m saying is, it was a pleasant surprise… Back then, I could eat anything without gaining weight, and I didn’t even know what stiff shoulders felt like.

In recent years I’d practically begged the heavens: what did I do to deserve this relentless bonus fat? I was just eating the same way I did back then…

But enough of that. It’s a depressing topic. And now, I’m getting closer to that eighteen-year-old me… I’m getting closer to the me I was when I created my character.