Chapter 6: My Lawyer Is a Fool and I'm on Trial for Tax Evasion in Another World

  I was standing in my home, taking care of myself, one minute.

  The next?

  I was screaming like a dying goat as I fell through an interdimensional vortex.

  “AAAAHHHHH—!”

  WHAM.

  I smmed into a soft surface. Too soft.

  I blinked. Wait. This wasn’t the hard, stone floor of a courtroom. This was…

  I looked down.

  A throne.

  Oh, no.

  Oh, no no no.

  I was seated on the throne of the king.

  When I looked around, I saw that a whole courtroom full of aristocrats, knights, and government representatives were looking at me with horror.

  One guy fainted.

  A woman started praying.

  "TREASON!" was screamed by someone in the back, and they fell out of their seat.

  I waved my hands and jumped off the throne. "I—uh—this isn't what it looks like!"

  Standing up and gesturing dramatically at me was King Reginald of Zaltron, a man with a crown so rge it looked like he had stolen it from a birthday party and a very fake-looking golden beard.

  “DID THE ACCUSED GET UP ON MY HOLY CHAIR?"

  I panicked. “T-To be fair, I was teleported here! I didn’t sit on it on purpose!”

  The entire courtroom gasped.

  The king narrowed his eyes. “A LIKELY STORY.”

  High Priest Eldrin stepped forward, falling to his knees. “Oh Great One! We have come to defend your honor!”

  Sir Gareth and Lady Mirabelle followed behind him, both holding toast.

  Why?

  Why did they always have toast?

  “Your Majesty,” High Priest Eldrin decred, “the Great One is innocent of all charges!”

  The king scoffed. “Innocent?! This man has founded an underground breakfast smuggling operation! He has personally caused the destruction of Zaltron’s tax system!”

  Lady Mirabelle proudly raised a piece of toast. “And he has given us the Holy Bread!”

  “ORDER!” The king banged his giant gavel. “The trial shall commence!”

  Wait. I don’t even get a wyer?!

  I opened my mouth to protest when—

  BANG!

  The doors to the courtroom swung open, and a very familiar figure marched in.

  A bck cape. A dramatic pose. An evil aura.

  Oh no.

  Oh NO NO NO.

  Username: The Dark Lord Makar

  “Yo.”

  I WAS GOING TO KILL HIM.

  He flipped his cape dramatically and smirked. “Fear not, my divine client! For I, the Great and Powerful Makar, shall be your legal defense!”

  I stared at him.

  The courtroom stared at him.

  The king stared at him.

  Silence.

  Then the king frowned. “Wait… aren’t you the Dark Lord?”

  Makar crossed his arms smugly. “FORMER Dark Lord. Now I’m a professional baker-ssh-defense-attorney.”

  The courtroom exploded into chaos.

  “THE DARK LORD IS A LAWYER?!”

  “I THOUGHT HE WAS DEAD?!”

  ""I GOT A BAGEL FROM HIM LAST WEEK!"

  I grabbed Makar by the colr and hissed in his ear, "Why are you here?!"

  He grinned. “What, you think I’d let my business partner go to trial alone? That’d be bad PR.”

  “I’M NOT YOUR BUSINESS PARTNER.”

  “You blessed my bakery. That makes you the co-founder of Doughmination.”

  I wanted to die.

  The king smmed his gavel again. “ENOUGH! The trial shall begin! The charges are as follows!”

  A knight unrolled a VERY long scroll and started reading.

  “Yuuto, also known as the ‘Great One,’ is accused of:

  - Illegally influencing the economy through divine intervention,

  - Founding an underground toast smuggling ring,

  - Decring war via sneeze,

  - Committing grand-scale tax evasion,

  - And sitting on His Majesty’s throne.”

  The courtroom gasped at every single charge.

  I groaned. I hate my life.

  The king pointed at me. “How does the accused plead?!”

  Before I could speak, Makar smmed a loaf of bread onto the defense table.

  The bread echoed.

  (Why did that sound so dramatic?!)

  Makar adjusted his cape. “Your Majesty, the defense pleads… AWESOME.”

  Silence.

  Dead silence.

  The king narrowed his eyes. “That’s… not a plea.”

  Makar smirked. “And yet, it is my plea.”

  The courtroom erupted into confused muttering.

  I covered my face with my hands. "I will die."

  The king banged his gavel. “Very well! We shall now hear the prosecution’s argument!”

  A very old, grumpy-looking noble stood up. "Your Majesty, our great kingdom has suffered iirreparable damage due to the accused! The Royal Treasury noticed just st night that toast! is now involved in 75% of all economic transactions."

  I froze. Wait. Seventy-five percent?!

  The noble threw a massive stack of papers onto the prosecution table.“BEHOLD! These are just a fraction of the receipts from illegal toast transactions!”

  High Priest Eldrin stood up proudly. “Of course! For toast is the path to enlightenment!”

  The courtroom gasped.

  The noble pointed at me.

  “And the defendant was the mastermind behind all of it!”

  I jumped up.“OBJECTION! I didn’t start this on purpose! All I did was eat toast for breakfast!”

  More gasps.

  The noble dramatically pointed at me. “YOU ADMIT TO EATING THE HOLY TOAST?!”

  I froze.

  Calmly, Makar moved forward, brushed off his cape, and withdrew a breadstick.

  "Your Majesty, I would like to call a surprise witness," he said with ease.

  The king frowned. “Who?”

  Makar turned dramatically. “The person who created this unjust tax!”

  Gasps. More gasps. A record-breaking amount of gasps.

  The king turned pale. “Wait, you don’t mean—”

  BANG!

  The doors exploded open.

  And in walked a mysterious, hooded figure.

  The entire courtroom went dead silent.

  And then—

  The noble prosecutor screamed.

  “THE ROYAL TAX DEMON?!?!”

  I choked.

  “EXCUSE ME?! YOU HAVE A TAX DEMON?!”

  The hooded figure glided across the floor, stopping at the witness stand. It slowly pulled back its hood…

  Revealing a horrifying, skeletal face with glowing red eyes.

  The demon sighed. “Yes. It is I. The Royal Tax Demon.”

  The king looked guilty as hell.

  “Er… It was a… royal necessity?” he mumbled.

  I stared. “You hired A LITERAL DEMON to collect your taxes?!”

  The Tax Demon let out a sigh. "Man, I'm just trying to do my work."

  Makar grinned.

  "Your Majesty, do you think Zaltron residents love paying taxes?"

  The king hesitated. “W-Well…”

  The entire courtroom gred at him.

  “…No,” the king admitted.

  Makar smirked. “Then, Your Majesty, I present my case—is it really my client’s fault if the people naturally prefer a toast-based economy?”

  The courtroom erupted into chaos.

  Thirty Minutes Later…

  Against all logic, I was found not guilty on the condition that I never directly interfere with their economy again.

  As I stepped out of the courtroom, Makar patted my back. “Congrats, my dude! We totally scammed the government.”

  I punched him in the arm.

  “DON’T EVER HELP ME AGAIN.”

  And so, I was officially pardoned.

  But deep down, I had a sinking feeling…

  This was only the beginning.

  To be continued...