9 Chapter 9: There's Only One Truth_1

"Is this...Veronica's trial?" Aiden realized.

"Yes, this scene is the most frequent in her fragmented dreams," Fille said as she sat beside him, passing him a full bag of popcorn.

Aiden didn't take it to eat. He was still unsure if the succubus would take the opportunity to mess with him. Perhaps, in reality, he was hugging a pillow in the infirmary and nibbling on it.

This was a very strange trial. The judges, prosecutors, and jury members were all giants over three meters tall, with no eyes or ears, only noses and large mouths. It was quite eerie to behold.

And there were only two living people in the audience, them. The other seats were occupied by featureless wooden puppets. After the judge delivered the verdict, the puppets raised their hands as if pulled by invisible strings and started clapping.

"Death penalty! Death penalty! Death penalty!" the puppets chanted in unison, repeating the verdict of the judge—though they had no vocal cords or mouths, they still made sounds, as if each puppet was backed by an invisible ventriloquist, all speaking at once.

"Why do these people all look so strange?" Aiden looked around.

"This is her dream, and dreams are inherently strange. The images of these figures are based on how they are perceived in her subconscious," Fille answered while eating popcorn.

"Then what's the deal with her being like this?" Aiden pointed at the defendant's dock.

A little girl with wolf ears, who bore a striking resemblance to Veronica, stood in the dock, looking helplessly around with tears brimming in her eyes.

"Many people dream of themselves as a child when they lack a sense of security," Fille explained calmly. "In their memories, childhood is the most vulnerable time. Once they experience helplessness or grievance as adults, they associate these feelings with the memories of their childhood."

Having heard Fille's explanation, Aiden understood a little better.

This was the impression the trial had left in Veronica's mind: at this trial, the prosecutors who accused her, the judges and jurors who tried her were all giants she couldn't resist; these giants were blind and deaf, unable to see the facts or hear her defense.

The audience of onlookers was made up of foolish puppets cheering for the "evil Pureblood Werewolf knight being brought to justice," oblivious to their own deception and manipulation.

And she herself, despite her innate strength as a Pureblood Werewolf, was still a helpless little girl in the face of the opposition of the entire society.

"Death penalty! Death penalty! Death penalty! Death penalty!"

The judge, jury, prosecutor, and the puppets in the audience chanted together, all extending a hand with a thumbs-down gesture.

In the days of slave gladiatorial customs, the audience would collectively decide the fate of the loser after a death match; thumbs up meant they allowed the loser to live, and thumbs down urged the winner to kill the loser.

Veronica opened her mouth in a distressed cry, but could not make a sound, as if an invisible barrier had enveloped her, silencing all the sounds she made.

The courtroom was deafened with cries for her death, but all she could do was comically wave her hands and desperately open her mouth as though she were acting in a silent film.

Aidan watched this absurd scene quietly. In reality, numerous people feared Veronica as a pureblood werewolf; her violence and overwhelming strength made both guards and prisoners wary of her, and the public and her colleagues who knew of her lycanthropy probably felt similarly.

However, in Veronica's own subconscious, everything was reversed—everyone here wanted to kill her, yet she was powerless to resist.

But Aidan was still very cautious, "Just this alone isn't enough to determine her innocence, right? I've seen many criminals with distorted thoughts who insisted that their crimes were justified, and saw the law's judgment as persecution against them."

"However, I saw many scenes in her dreams, but I couldn't find one related to her murder scene. Since she cares so much about being sentenced to death, how could she possibly have no profound impression of committing the murder? That's very abnormal." Fille raised a finger assertively, transforming herself with an illusion into a detective with a hat and a pipe, "So there's only one truth, she's been falsely accused!"

"Alright, I see what you're trying to say," Aidan nodded thoughtfully, "Dissolve the illusion."

With a snap of her fingers, Fille brought Aidan's consciousness back from the illusion to reality in the blink of an eye. At that moment, Flandre just happened to push the door open from outside and saluted him, "Warden!"

"Did you get anything out of her?" Aidan came to his senses and turned around to ask.

"Their statements from the first interrogation didn't match up at all, so I asked them again. Here are the transcripts," Flandre said respectfully, handing over the records.

Aidan flipped through them quickly. Initially, Anna and Katherine's testimonies both pointed fingers at Veronica, but many details were inconsistent, clearly indicating a problem—understandable since Veronica's appearance was an unexpected event for them. From the moment Veronica severely beat them to the moment they were restrained by the riot squad, they had no opportunity to coordinate their stories.

After Flandre's second interrogation, their statements became slightly more credible. They admitted to the extortion of Fille, and most of the details were consistent with what Veronica and Fille had stated, except for the part where they accused each other of being the mastermind behind the extortion of Fille, each claiming they were coerced.

"These two really are the epitome of loyalty," Aidan said with a scoff, returning the transcripts to Flandre, "Both are to be put in solitary confinement for ten days, downgraded to the lowest amenity level. The extortion case will be filed separately; give them my congratulations on their extended sentences."

"Understood. How should I deal with the death row inmate... Veronica?" Flandre asked cautiously, her attitude becoming very careful after realizing she had almost wrongfully blamed Veronica on her own authority.

"Put her in solitary confinement for half a day, then send her back to her room tomorrow morning," Aidan instructed promptly.

"She... also has to be put in solitary confinement?" Flandre hesitated.

"Her intervention in stopping the two inmates in cell six could be considered a heroic act and not pursued. But the soap she left on the floor caused other inmates to slip and injure themselves. She needs to take some responsibility for that negligence; we must follow the regulations," Aidan smiled.

"Alright, I understand. Then I'll arrange someone from the night shift to keep an eye on her," replied Flandre.

"No need, I'll go myself," Aidan waved his hand, "I have some things I want to ask her in private."