Chapter 15
Chapter 15
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 15
Chapter Title: Bennetsa Merchant 5
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After hearing the situation explained by the butlers, I felt a surge of utter disbelief and turned to them.
"Uh... No... What the hell is this? Does it even make sense to arrest and lock someone up over something as flimsy as that lenient phrasing?"
No matter how many times I turned it over in my mind, it went beyond injustice straight into absurdity.
This was tantamount to filing charges that he'd tried to rip out my heart and kill me, all based on the promise to repay "with all my heart and soul."
I poured my seething anger into my words, but Kazeros Sophia responded to me in a calm voice.
"Regrettably, it's entirely possible. Jews are forbidden from harming church followers for any reason whatsoever, and the law explicitly allows for official punishment at the slightest sign of it. Sure, it's a stretch—even a reckless one—but if they push the legal angle, there's nothing stopping them."
"No... What kind of bullshit... Haa..."
Her words ignited my fury all over again, but for now, I had no choice but to forcibly tamp it down.
Like it or not, this was an early modern era where the concept of human rights hadn't fully taken root. In that context, discrimination against a heretic Jew like Shylock was seen as par for the course.
A world rife with religious discrimination and prejudice.
In it, not only Shylock but all Jews and foreigners faced injustice without any easy way to assert their rights.
The moment she confirmed I'd reined in my emotions, the butlers pressed on with their explanation.
"We learned this during the later investigation, but... it was all a conspiracy orchestrated by Anton, with the Holy Empire pulling the strings behind him."
"He seemed a bit suspicious right from the start, showing up with that IOU form in hand... but we never dreamed he'd hatch something like this."
"Haa..."
The butlers spoke with helpless frustration, and I shared their stifled exasperation.
Shylock, Bennetsa's merchant magnate who'd amassed his fortune primarily through usury.
From a conventional viewpoint, usury couldn't exactly be called clean...
Yet despite that, hardly anyone in Bennetsa harbored open resentment toward him or badmouthed him.
On the contrary, though they couldn't voice it outright due to his Jewish heritage, a surprising number quietly regarded him as a benefactor.
This stemmed from the strict business principles he upheld in his usury trade.
He never lent to those who couldn't repay, and even if a borrower fell short of expectations, he wouldn't berate them—instead, he'd offer another chance to turn things around and succeed.
By modern standards, what he practiced wasn't loan sharking at all; it was sound, healthy investment.
In this world, where the lines between investment and usury weren't fully delineated, Shylock had been unfairly branded a usurer. But by my own measure, he was a shrewd businessman of solid character and keen insight.
The fact that a man like that had been thrown in prison over such a ludicrous pretext filled me with burning rage. I turned to the butlers before me.
"So, when's the trial?"
"It's in three days, at the central courthouse... but expecting an easy release is probably out of the question."
"Why? No matter the Holy Empire's backing, Shylock's not the type to get snared by a sloppy trap like this."
"...It'll be difficult."
"Pardon?"
Kazeros replied with a bitter undertone.
Her words drew a heavy veil of doubt over me. She glanced not at me, but at the butlers wearing expressions of sorrow right in front of me, then spoke.
"From the looks of it... you still haven't secured a lawyer?"
"Kuh..."
"...Yes. That's correct..."
"!...Ah..."
Her observation sharpened my grasp of the unfolding crisis, and a sigh slipped from my lips unbidden.
Objectively speaking, Shylock was in the clearly innocent position.
But unfortunately, in Bennetsa—where the church's influence ran deep and the vast majority of residents were devout believers—virtually no one would step up to take his side as a Jew.
Especially since the charges framed him with attempting to murder a church follower, whether innocent or not.
No matter the payoff, anyone bold enough to defend him risked not just torpedoing their career as a lawyer, but potentially facing severe backlash merely for siding with a Jew as a fellow believer.
In that sense, Shylock—no stranger to ill repute otherwise—was boxed into a corner where his status as a heretic made aid from others exceedingly hard to come by.
And even if the defendant Shylock tried defending himself, there was no guarantee a judge in this deeply biased court would even hear out a Jew's plea.
'On that front... it might look sloppy at first glance, but the Holy Empire's side has cleverly rigged the setup. The pretext for pressing charges is pure nitpicking, but they've targeted someone whose allies can't easily extend a hand. In a scenario like this, they can blow a trivial spat into a full-blown crisis and bury the opponent as a criminal.'
Even in my original world, abroad, racial discrimination led to unjust lynchings or killings on the street with disheartening frequency.
If such tragedies persisted in the modern era, where the wrongness of it was at least somewhat acknowledged, there was no need to belabor the point in this world—where religious differences were openly deemed justification for slaughter.
With that realization sinking in—that Shylock's plight was even graver than I'd imagined—I plunged into deep contemplation.
There was personal loyalty to the man, of course. But more critically, without his assistance here, our journey onward to the eastern heretic nation risked becoming perilously hazardous.
The current climate, still raw from the war's aftermath, hung thick with menace.
In times like these, even ample travel funds offered no guarantee; we had to avoid departing recklessly until we'd mapped out a secure route.
'In the end... it's not just about loyalty. For our own sake, we have to rescue Mr. Shylock somehow...'
Yet in the present bind, with not even a single lawyer willing to step up, I was at a total loss for a viable path forward.
Unlike before, my excommunicated status made it impossible to openly aid anyone here.
Standing in court to defend him was out of the question, naturally.
'On top of that, flimsy as the charges are, they've no doubt sealed off escape routes by leaning on connections. Bribed the judge, prosecutor, jurors, or observers—planted their own people in the seats.'
In short, everyone inside that courtroom for the impending trial was likely an "enemy" with designs on toppling Shylock.
If things played out that way, he'd be helplessly condemned in a scripted farce, utterly innocent though he was.
'I have to turn this around somehow... Regardless of the other hurdles, first and foremost, we need someone to take the defense...'
No matter how brilliant the strategy, without an advocate to argue it before the court, it was worthless paper.
But the lawyers in Bennetsa had overwhelmingly refused the case, and I myself couldn't take it on.
'Damn it... Who'd have thought excommunication would leave me regretting it like this...'
It was then, as I stewed in that impasse, unable to even get off the ground...
"Um..."
"Yes?"
The next moment, one person ventured to speak up to me.
"Couldn't... I do it?"
In this predicament, someone with the stature to credibly defend Shylock...
Kazeros looked at me cautiously as she said it.