***
{Outside The Projection}
“Oh, this is gold~.”
“Hah! Look at ’em! Acting all high and mighty without knowing a damn thing.”
“You think those nobles ever thought about this moment later?”
Many in the crowd enjoyed themselves, musing about.
“Imagine realizing you laughed at the Sultan while he was locked up like some common criminal.”
“Pfft. They probably acted like it never happened. Most of you nobles have a way of rewriting history when it doesn’t suit you.”
“Still, I bet they felt stupid later and maybe regretful, thinking they’d lost out on the best investment of their lives.”
“Doubt they’d even lived that long to see it.”
“True. And knowing him? If any of those bastards were still breathing when he got his throne, he probably paid ’em a little visit.”
At that, laughter rippled through the hall, though not for long, as another topic of conversation was brought up.
“Watch the way he flipped them off!”
Another pointed at the projection.
“That officer—what was his name? Cassim? Haha! He looked ready to explode!”
Even the ones who hated Malik had to admit—the man had balls. Massive ones.
That or he just didn’t give a shit about the consequences.
Most of them would say both.
“And it turns out some guy saved him.”
“Yeah, if the Sultan followed his advice, they might’ve decreased his sentence or pardoned him outright.”
“Can’t see that happening… but who knows? I can’t guess what he’ll do next.”
***
{Inside The Projection}
Malik sat in his cell for hours, the silence stretching, the stone walls pressing in.
That whisper… Had it been real? Or just his mind screwing with him again?
Didn’t matter. Real or not, it was an option. And if it was a trick, well, it wouldn’t have been the first his mind had played on him. Discover more stories at My Virtual Library Empire
Sinbad and Jasmine sat just outside the cage, staring him down.
They didn’t speak. Didn’t move. Just sat there, watching.
Malik sighed, rubbing his eyes. But when he looked again, they were still there.
No matter how many times he tried to shake them off, they wouldn’t leave.
But then—footsteps. Heavy ones… And just like that, the two were gone.
It was an unfamiliar male officer, his keys jingling as he unlocked the door.
“Get up. An Inquisitor is free to judge you.”
Malik rolled his shoulders and stood, letting the officer drag him out.
He was pulled along through the halls, past the same desks, the same uninterested bureaucrats, until they reached an office.
Inside sat an average-looking man dressed in deep red, quite a contrast to the blue of the regular officers.
He had sharp eyes, a face worn by years of experience, yet not a wrinkle of hesitation.
Behind him, a few men and women lounged in the corner, observing.
The Inquisitor leaned forward, hands clasped.
“Sit.”
Malik sat.
“Do you know who I am?”
“…No, but I bet you’ll tell me.”
He chuckled and introduced himself:
“I am Inquisitor Khamal. The one appointed to be in charge of your trial.”
Khamal gestured to the ones in the corner.
“These people will be helping judge your case, making sure it’s… fair.”
Malik raised a brow.
“Fair? That’s new.”
Khamal smirked.
“Introduce yourself.”
Malik glanced at them; they didn’t look like much, just some noble brats.
“I am the one whose mother called Malik. The son of a bastard. The Ward of—” He returned his gaze to Khamal, “Mahdi. A child of Al-Zayni.”
***
{Outside The Projection}
The room was quiet, but not because anyone was particularly shocked. The name didn’t really mean much to them—just another old-world relic, something that might’ve been significant once but had long lost its weight.
Sure, there was a bit of irony in it. Malik, the Sultan who painted history in blood, being the ward of some guy whose name basically meant “the end”? Yeah, that was kind of funny. But that was all it was. A passing thought. Nothing worth dwelling on.
Except for Noor.
Noor, who had been sitting there all calm and composed, now looked like she was about to snap her throne’s armrests in half.
‘I knew it!’
That wasn’t just some random name.
It belonged to a Kâhya who once worked in one of her family’s estates.
Right, Malik’s guardian was one of her own.
She sucked in a sharp breath, forcing herself to keep her expression neutral, but inside?
Noor was on fire.
‘That bastard was after me since the beginning!’
***
{Inside The Projection}
A few of them shifted. Some cleared their throats.
They hadn’t expected that level of confidence. Of sharpness. From a beggar. From a supposed child, even though he looked nothing like one.
“Good.”
Khamal nodded.
“Then let’s get to it.”
He unfolded a scroll and read aloud.
“You stand accused of the murder of twenty-six individuals and the destruction of a lawful slave ring, halting its operations for days and causing financial losses to the owner.”
He set it down and met Malik’s gaze.
“What is your defense?”
Malik sat there, silent.
‘Act crazy.’
The whisper flashed in his mind.
‘No… Fuck that.’
He had ideals and he stuck to them no matter what.
“I’m guilty of all you listed. I did it completely sane and in cold blood.”
“…”
“…”
“…”
Silence.
The nobles in the corner stared at him, wide-eyed.
Malik glanced at them.
“What? You think it’s wrong? Maybe… but I don’t care.”
One of them inhaled sharply.
“You know… those slavers I killed? All of twenty-five of them?”
There was a shift in the room.
“Know that I’d do it again if I had the chance.”
The tension grew thick.
“I did it because I liked it… fuck, I loved it.”
Gasps resounded a second time, and he pulled hard on his chains.
“You don’t understand… Shit ain’t quick. The kidney’s deep. You hit it, and it doesn’t just kill them. Nah… it just—it just bleeds. Sure, their bodies gave out in a second. Dropped like fucking rocks. But their minds?”
He let out a breathy chuckle.
“Oh, their minds felt every second. Every Goddamn moment dragged out forever. Seconds stretched into minutes. Minutes? Might as well have been hours. Time just… slowed. Crawled. Every heartbeat, every breath, every pulse of pain—it was all they knew. Burning them up from the inside, setting their guts on fire.”
At that point, they had no clue if he was talking about the slavers or some messed-up shit that happened to him.
“They couldn’t move. Couldn’t scream. Just stuck there, feeling it, knowing exactly what was happening but not able to do a damn thing about it.”
Malik tilted his head, cracking it.
“They tried to scream, but their voices—shut. Weak. Because they’re choking on their own fucking blood, their necks cut.”
The room was dead silent.
His golden eyes turned to Khamal.
“There’s nothing to defend… I’m guilty. I’m dying to do it again.”
A pause. An incredibly long pause.
No one in the room knew how to react to this.
***
{Outside The Projection}
Neither did anyone outside, seeing just how unhinged Malik truly was.
…They were just speechless. All of them without exception.
***
{Inside The Projection}
Khamal sighed, rubbing his temple.
“…Well, I told him to act crazy.”
Malik’s brow twitched.
“What was that?”
“Oh, nothing.”
Khamal leaned back, tapping a finger against the desk.
“Tell me, why didn’t you just save the slaves? Forgive them?”
Malik shook his head.
“Forgiveness is between them and their God. My job is only to arrange the meeting.”
A woman in the corner raised a hand, wanting to speak.
Khamal nodded at her and she stood, arms crossed.
“I-Ignoring how insane you are… I get it. You’re trying to be a hero. Slavery is bad, at least the way it’s being done right now, no one can deny that. But now that you killed them, what makes you different? Aren’t you just a psychotic killer?”
Malik gave her a long look, then sighed.
“Seriously? That’s the best you got? If you think killing them makes me the same as them or worse, then you seriously need to do some thinking. Now sit back down before you embarrass yourself any further.”
She scowled, ready to retort, but Khamal raised a hand.
“Sit.”
Gritting her teeth, she obeyed.
Khamal then reached under his desk and placed a small object on top.
“This is a lie detector. I’m sure I don’t need to explain what it does.”
He met Malik’s gaze.
“I need to ask you a few questions. Will you answer them truthfully?”
Malik leaned forward slightly.
“Yes.”
The device glowed green.
“Good. Have you killed a human before?”
“Yes, but only two. The rest were filth.”
The light didn’t change.
Khamal’s eyes narrowed slightly.
“Huh… You actually believe that. You really don’t see them as human.”
“I don’t.”
Khamal studied him for a moment before nodding.
“This won’t work then.”
He reached into a drawer and pulled out a small ring.
Then, he gestured to a guard, who took it and slipped it onto Malik’s finger.
Malik didn’t react, just waited.
Then suddenly, a projection flickered to life above the ring.
{100,000}
It displayed a number bright enough for all to see.
Gasps filled the room, louder than any before it.
“Y-You’ve killed a hundred thousand?!”
Malik blinked.
‘…What? Ah… wait. I understand.’
He scanned their faces, and slowly… he grinned.
“Opps~.”
Khamal’s fist crashed down on his desk.
“GET HIM BACK TO HIS CELL NOW!”