chapter 10
1643 Words
Chapter 10
Mr. Anthony.
Many in the courtroom recognized him immediately. Whispers began.
“That’s Anthony… I’ve seen him on TV so many times…”
“He only takes on celebrity cases, right?”
“Hmm… movie actors, famous businessmen, politicians… he doesn’t take on anyone else but them.”
In a moment, these words were heard by the people who were pressed against the wall, bumping into each other. Some had expressions of surprise on their faces, some of them had expressions of curiosity, and some of them had expressions of doubt in their eyes.
At first, Mikhail Grayson thought he might be seeing things wrong. His tired brain was imagining things under all this pressure.
But no—
The man was really coming that way.
Nodding respectfully to the judge, he went straight to the defense desk.
“I’m here as defense counsel, Your Honor,” Mr. Anthony said in a calm, steady voice.
Mikhail’s heart shuddered.
Who sent him?
There was no one in his life who could make people stand up like Anthony.
---
Monica Dixon was sitting on one side of the audience. Her fingers were tightly clasped together. Judging from her body posture, no matter how much she tried to remain calm on the outside, fear, guilt, and anxiety were consuming her inside.
Mary Dixon stood a little further ahead, next to the Dixon family. Her eyes kept falling on Mikhail Grayson, then suddenly turned to Anthony.
Monica slowly brought her face forward and whispered in a low voice,
“Mary… Mikhail… where did he get such a lawyer? Anthony doesn’t take on ordinary cases. Does he… know anyone?”
Mary’s lips curled slightly. The arrogance and anger that had been building up in her voice came out together,
“He has no power of his own. It’s all that Elvira Kingsley’s connection. I told you from day one, that girl is not clean. She’s known everywhere… Look, now she’s showing.”
Monica was silent for a moment. She didn't know who to believe in this situation, who not.
Only one truth burned brightly for her—
Mikhail Grayson was standing in court today.
And the man she had once loved was fighting for his life today.
---
The judge sat up straight after arranging the papers. The court clerk announced the name of the case loudly.
A cold shiver ran down his spine as Mikhail Grayson’s name was pronounced. He controlled himself and raised his head a little.
Now it was Mr. Anthony’s turn to speak.
He stood very calmly, straight, and looked at the judge and said,
“Your Honor, today I am here to present the truth on behalf of the accused Mikhail Grayson. The picture that has been presented in the past few days is incomplete, edited, and one-sided. I only want to present the full picture of the truth today.”
His voice was clear, measured, without any drama.
But from that stillness, a strange pressure was building.
He first brought up the video brought by the prosecution.
The video that everyone had been saying for so long—whether Mikhail was the attacker.
“Your Honor, everyone has seen this video,” he said, pausing,
“But the earlier part of this video—that is, the real beginning—has not been brought before the court.”
Then the video was played again on the big screen. Anthony asked for the previous part to be played again, where it had been shown before.
For a few seconds, Carlos's broken voice, his aggressive posture, and the impression of a struggle seen from a distance were captured.
Anthony paused the video and said,
“It is clear here—Carlos was the first to come forward and initiate a physical confrontation. This was not a planned attack, but the result of a sudden situation.”
The judge was watching intently.
The prosecution lawyers began to discuss something among themselves.
Mikhail just watched the scenes helplessly.
As if watching himself from the outside.
---
This time Anthony slowly took out some papers from the file.
“Now I would like to present Carlos' past records, Your Honor.”
There was no malice in his voice, but the information was so heavy that the courtroom fell even more silent.
“Carlos’s name has appeared several times in the complaints filed with the local police station over the past few years. Arguments with local gangsters, fights, suspicious drug dealing… and in some cases, he even behaved threateningly himself. Here are the documents of those complaints, the police reports, the witness statements.”
He arranged the papers neatly on the table and presented them to the judge.
“You can see here,” he said again,
“Carlos regularly created dangerous situations. This incident was not an isolated incident, but part of a well-known pattern of his character.”
Some people sitting on one side of the gallery sighed in annoyance.
The one who had been presented as an innocent victim until now was slowly being exposed.
Anthony now got straight to the point,
“Mikhail Grayson did not attack on his own. Rather, Carlos’ behavior forced him to defend himself.
This cannot be called premeditated murder or attempted murder in any way.
This is purely self-defense, Your Honor.”
This one word—self-defense—made the air inside the courtroom tremble.
---
Waves after waves were crashing inside Mikhail’s head.
He had never thought that someone could speak so beautifully and clearly on his behalf.
He didn't know who this man was, why he was doing so much for him.
A strange trembling was going on deep in his chest—
Relief, disbelief, and fear all mixed together.
Monica, who was sitting in the audience, was now observing Mikhail’s face, now Anthony's firm posture, now the judge's changing expression.
Everything seemed to be in disarray inside her as well.
Mary Dixon was observing the whole incident through gritted teeth.
Her cheeks were turning red with anger.
The image of the Dixon family—
which had been another name for pride, power, and influence for them until now—
today, Anthony's every word was taking a hit on that image.
---
After much argument, testimony, and evidence, the judge finally prepared to deliver his verdict.
The entire courtroom was waiting with bated breath.
The judge adjusted his glasses and stared at the paper.
His voice was clear, but heavy.
“The court, having considered the information received, the evidence, and the arguments presented by both sides, has reached the conclusion that—
The charges brought against the accused Mikhail Grayson have not been proven.
This incident was self-defense, not a planned attack or attempted murder.
Therefore, he is abruptly acquitted of the charges brought against him.”
A few words exploded together like a bomb—
innocent, self-defense, acquittal.
Mikhail couldn’t understand it at first.
The words felt like a light jolt in his head.
Then slowly reality began to hit him—
He is no longer a criminal.
He is free.
Some people sitting on one side of the gallery breathed a sigh of relief.
Some people took out their phones and started typing quickly—the news of today's verdict would spread in an instant.
But there was no word from the Dixon family.
It was as if time had suddenly stopped for them.
This verdict dealt a major blow not only to Mikhail, but also to the Dixon family.
The web of paper, influence, and relationships that they had thought themselves unbreakable until now, today found a c***k in that web.
Their image collapsed.
---
After the verdict was announced, people slowly started to leave the courtroom.
As the crowd in the courtroom cleared a little, a heavy, uncomfortable silence descended in place of the tense tension.
Mikhail got off the bench, stepping very slowly.
The light of the courtroom seemed a little too bright in his eyes, as if he had emerged from a very dark place.
Just then, Mary Dixon's voice came from behind—
“It's all Elvira Kingsley’s connections! It's all that girl's work! Mikhail has no powers of his own—he only knows how to use others!”
Her voice echoed throughout the courtroom.
Those who were leaving stopped and looked around.
Some smiled, some raised their eyes and looked up, then lowered their heads again.
Mary Dixon’s face turned red.
She stood in front of everyone, pointed her finger at Mikhail and said,
“You think you won? You only used Elvira Kingsley’s powers. You have nothing of your own!”
Monica Dixon stood by, watching everything.
She was in no condition to stop Mary.
She was falling apart inside herself.
Mikhail didn't turn back for a moment.
Mary's voice, her accusations, her insults—all of these were reaching his ears,
but none of them could penetrate him.
After all this today, he knew—
no matter how bad he was in the eyes of some people,
at least the law hadn't made him a criminal.
And he had only one question for the man who fought for him—
now.
---
As the crowd in the courtroom moved a little, he saw Mr. Anthony walking towards the corridor to leave.
His shoulders were straight, his gait natural—nothing dramatic, as if it was just another ordinary day in his many days at work.
But for Mikhail, it wasn't an ordinary day.
This was the life-or-death moment of his life.
He took a few quick steps forward and paused again.
Controlling himself, he stepped a little closer and called out,
“Mr. Anthony…”
The man stopped and looked back.
Mikhail was silent for a few seconds and then said in a slow, but very clear voice—
“…Who sent you?”
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