novel bin Chapter 55 can begin.
Chapter 55 can begin.
He thought his love of joining in the fun and his instinct to avoid danger would cancel each other out, since it was a gang leader making an appearance and he would inevitably be surrounded by several gangsters for protection.
But in reality, he guessed the latter but not the former.
Falcone was indeed surrounded by a large group of subordinates dressed in black suits as he walked into the courthouse. He strolled leisurely on the red carpet laid out on the steps, as if he were going to attend some kind of banquet, exuding the elegance of an old-money aristocrat.
There was a circle of empty space around him, with various cameras of all kinds of lenses and microphones right next to him, and outside that were many Gothamites who were eager to watch the drama unfold.
Few of these people thought the Romans would be overthrown, nor did they have any long-term plans or desire to witness history; they simply found it novel and fascinating.
Whether someone can sue Falcone and hold a trial, making such a big fuss, or Falcone is actually willing to attend.
A gang leader of Roman caliber is not someone an ordinary person can meet. Many people travel from the other side of the city just to see this legendary figure in person.
When Falcone entered the courtroom, the gallery behind him was already full of people, most of whom had tense and excited expressions on their faces, as if they were looking forward to the start of a performance in a theater.
Among these people were not only ordinary citizens in everyday clothes, but also upper-class people dressed in fine clothes. Blue-collar workers in work jeans and well-dressed rich people sat side by side, while gangsters in suits lined up in a row.
Zheng En sat at the front. Looking back, he felt as if demons were dancing wildly. Looking forward, he felt as if the faint voices behind him could surge into waves, and he felt as if he had become a drop in these waves, rolling forward.
Most of the people around him were newspaper staff with cameras, and he even spotted an excited, familiar face among them.
It's no surprise that Vicky Vale wouldn't miss out on this great show.
The prosecutor's dock was already packed with people. As Torres watched Falcone being escorted into the hall and walk to the defendant's seat opposite him, cold sweat broke out on his forehead. "Your Excellency Falcone..."
Carmine Falcone, the infamous mob boss, appears to be a sprightly old man. Even though his hair is gray, his skin is aged, and his eyes have become somewhat cloudy with age, he can still occasionally flash a sharp, eagle-like gaze.
His demeanor did not diminish with age; on the contrary, it carried a weight of composure born of experience.
Falcone paid no attention to Torres' overtures.
He looked at the judge in the superior seat, appearing very polite, and said, "You may begin, Your Honor."
Zheng En knew this old bastard was up to no good; he'd probably already bribed people. Of those people standing there, it was hard to say how many hadn't been paid.
He was sitting in the very front row of the audience, so he shouldn't have been able to hear what Falcone was saying. But Jung Eun had been prepared after receiving the mission, and had gathered some props that he felt might come in handy, either by drawing lots or buying them.
For example, the single-lens glasses worn on the face, along with the eye and the chain hanging from the ear, form a [visual enhancement device].
Its original appearance was a device resembling a mechanical exoskeleton. Zheng Enhua used his points to change its appearance so that he wouldn't stand out from the crowd.
With this [audiovisual enhancement device], he could clearly hear what Falcone was saying and see that the judge struck the table with his gavel only after he had finished speaking to the other party.
"quiet!"
After striking the gavel to silence the courtroom, the judge announced the official start of the trial.
As expected, the prosecutors were largely powerless in their case against Falcone. This powerlessness did not stem from insufficient evidence or flawed logic, but rather from the external factor of the defendant's own identity, which dampened the prosecutors' fighting spirit.
He stands here out of fear of Batman; he trembles with fear, just as he fears Falcone.
The Romans were well-funded, and the defense lawyer they hired was one of the best in Gotham City. His imposing presence overwhelmed Torres, and even when the other side had a valid point, they were rendered unreasonable by his arguments.
But the situation quickly changed.
The prosecutor stammered and couldn't speak, his weak appearance prompting his assistant to take notice.
"I don't think so, Your Honor."
The handsome man adopted a rebuttal stance; compared to the timid Torres, he seemed more like the one with a "Prosecutor" sign in front of him.
His documents and materials were neatly arranged in categories, and he stood tall and proud as he faced the lawyer defending Falcone.
"According to written documents collected by the GCPD at Arkham Asylum, we can clearly see that the money in the accounts flowed to Falcone Import Company, in which the defendant, Carmine Falcone, owned 75 percent of the shares."
"We have reason to conclude that the accused is the actual person in charge of this company, who secretly contacted Jonathan Klein, the former director of Arkham Academy and now a fugitive, and used Klein's position to secretly conduct a series of illegal activities, including human experimentation, organ trafficking, and human trafficking..."
The courtroom was a battle of wits, with words flying everywhere, while the audience listened with drowsiness, nodding their heads uncontrollably.
Most of the people here have never participated in court debates before, and few are interested in such things. They are here because of the reputation of Romans, and when they actually listen to the rebuttals of prosecutors and lawyers, they will only feel drowsy from the complicated terminology and various rigorous and long sentences.
Zheng En heard someone snoring rhythmically behind her. She turned around and saw a gangster in a suit.
Some time later, the defense lawyer hired by Falcone made a mistake in his arguments.
The prosecutor's assistant seized on this flaw and launched a fierce attack, leaving the lawyer speechless with a barrage of questions.
The atmosphere froze for a moment.
Falcone glanced lightly at the lawyer, then looked at the serious-looking man opposite him. The real prosecutor, Torres, was just watching from the side, his forehead covered in a fine layer of cold sweat, which he was wiping with a handkerchief.
But the imposing assistant prosecutor did not flinch even when he met Falcone's gaze.
Falcone stared at him for a moment, then smiled. "Gotham is lucky to have a fine young man like you."
"Interested in working for the Falcone family? I mean, providing legal support for my company." He seemed unconcerned about the courtroom debates. "I believe that with someone like you joining us, Falcone Imports will be more legal and compliant."
"Thank you for your kind offer, but Mr. Falcone, you should first think about how to get through the day."
The man politely declined his invitation, but Falcone wasn't annoyed. "At least let me know your name. Assistant, you wouldn't refuse such a small courtesy, would you?"
"Harvey Dent," the man said, looking directly into Falcone's eyes, "an ordinary lawyer. I stand here today simply to uphold the fairness and justice of the law."