Chapter 73: The Patient Judge (Requesting First Subscription)

Although Alvin had explained clearly enough, the judge behind him seemed not to have lowered his guard.

“Turn around slowly, let me see your face and hands.”

Winnie carefully stepped back half a step, but raised her bolter, pointing it at his head.

Alvin raised his hands like a prisoner and turned slowly; instead of Winnie Winslet, a stranger’s face met his eyes—but from the similar build and the familiar incense, he deduced it was likely a disguise for infiltration.

“How did you end up here? What happened to your face?”

Winnie frowned slightly, her gun still pressed to his head, her voice icy: “And how exactly did you recognize me?”

Though the bone-chilling killing intent had slightly receded, it still made one feel uneasy.

Alvin forced a smile and explained: “This is my disguise, Your Honor. As for how I recognized you—ahem—it’s because your incense is far too noticeable.”

“Incense?”

Winnie’s expression stiffened noticeably.

She never imagined her meticulous disguise—so certain it wouldn’t be exposed—would be betrayed by nothing more than her incense.

“Your Honor, now can you believe me?” Alvin removed the “electrostatic veil,” revealing his true face.

Winnie lowered her bolter, but her brow remained stern and displeased: “Why are you in the Lower Nest? Don’t you know it’s dangerous? And why are you dressed like this?”

“Of course to gather evidence—did you think I came for tourism?” Alvin snapped back.

The judge seemed momentarily speechless, shooting him a furious glare: “Are you blaming me?”

“No no no, Your Honor, you misunderstand.”

Alvin realized he’d been overly bold just now and waved his hands to explain: “I want to find evidence quickly—to help you crush the cult and protect Lothel Nest!”

His words rang with righteous indignation and moral authority.

“I have no interest in pursuing your crimes.” Even Winnie, who had faced countless shameless criminals, was left speechless by Alvin; she hardened her tone: “Now, in the name of the Empire’s Judge, I order you to assist in investigating the cult. Refuse, and I have the authority to execute you on the spot. Understood?”

“Perfectly understood, Your Honor.”

Alvin snapped to attention, crossed his arms, and performed the Eagle Salute: “For the Great Divine Emperor, I am willing to offer my heart!”

It was back—the familiar feeling was back. This was the attitude a Judge should have!

That resolute gaze and tone surprised Winnie slightly; it felt as if she were staring at a devout follower of the State Religion.

In such a remote planet, encountering a Lower Nest dweller with such pure faith was nothing short of a miracle!

But Winnie quickly reconsidered—it must be the protection of the Great Divine Emperor.

“Cough… I need to know what’s happened in the Lower Nest.” She had just infiltrated the Lower Nest and followed members of the Hammer Gang to this room.

Seeing the occupants seemed high-ranking, she planned to enter and interrogate them for information.

But unfortunately, she ran into someone she knew.

So far, Winnie still didn’t clearly understand the connection between the Lower Nest, the cult, and the Hammer Gang.

“Respected Your Honor, this is how it is—”

Alvin summarized the intelligence he’d gathered in as brief terms as possible.

Upon hearing that tens of thousands had been sent to “Ironstone Town,” Winnie’s pale blue eyes blazed with lethal fury; she clenched her bolter: “Tens of thousands? What is the Planetary Viceroy doing? Is Galken blind?!”

Tens of thousands of Lower Nest dwellers leaving the Nest, sent to a place called “Ironstone Town”—and the Planetary Viceroy did nothing?

In Winnie’s eyes, this was simply unthinkable!

Since being appointed Judge, she had never faced such a complex, chaotic situation alone!

For a moment, Winnie felt utterly lost—who was truly in control?

Was it the indifferent Planetary Viceroy? The suspected cult leader, Rashid Hadley? Or were all the Upper Nest nobles of Lothel Nest complicit?

Suddenly, a familiar face flashed into Winnie’s mind—Charles Granthor.

If it were Granthor, what choice would he make in this chaotic mess?

Winnie bit her lip; she refused to emulate her mentor, for she could not accept such behavior.

This boy, having the courage to infiltrate the Lower Nest, must have a plan—so she turned her gaze to Alvin: “What are you planning to do next?”

“Respected Your Honor, my plan is simple.”

Alvin put the “electrostatic veil” back on and spoke slowly: “Using my disguised identity as a high-ranking gang member, I’ll sneak into the convoy heading to Ironstone Town.”

Staring at his face for half a second, Winnie had an idea: “Fine, do as you say—but find a way to get me in too.”

“You’re coming with me to Ironstone Town?”

Alvin looked startled, though more annoyed than surprised.

If it were only him, he wouldn’t need to worry much—he could escape easily if danger arose.

But with a Judge tagging along, he’d have to be far more careful.

After all, neither the Iron Man Mark V armor nor his spiritual energy could be exposed.

“You’re unwilling?”

Winnie was taken aback—she was an Imperial Judge, and someone was refusing her?

“No no no, I’m very willing, Your Honor!”

Alvin had no choice now—he gritted his teeth and agreed: “But you’ll have to endure some hardship—you’ll need to disguise yourself as a disabled refugee and blend in.”

“Who do you think I am?”

Who could have imagined Winnie didn’t care at all? She lifted her chin proudly: “I graduated from the Imperial Loyal Disciples Academy, underwent rigorous training—I am willing to sacrifice my life for the Divine Emperor, let alone disguise myself as a disabled refugee?”

“Excellent! No wonder you’re a Judge!”

Alvin gave a thumbs-up, praising: “If you say so, then it’s settled!”

Yet the noble Judge Winnie Winslet overestimated her resolve.

And underestimated just how much “hardship” Alvin meant.

The next day.

Winnie, successfully blended into the disabled refugees, was forcibly shoved into the cargo truck’s compartment.

The compartment was small—barely enough for twenty people—but over thirty had been crammed inside.

The level of crowding was unimaginable.

Winnie swore this was the worst vehicle environment she’d ever endured in her life.

She was crushed into a corner, her head pressed under someone’s filthy foot, emitting a stench so foul it nearly made her faint.

Around her, bodies reeked of rot, sourness, decay—like corpses left under the sun for half a month, then dumped into a cesspool to soak in the stench, then fermented into a uniquely nauseating odor.

Without exaggeration, the compartment’s atmosphere resembled the Father-Emperor’s backyard!

Winnie pinched her nose; even as she silently chanted that this was all for the Divine Emperor, her body still rebelled.

But others couldn’t hold back—the cramped space, combined with the overwhelming stench, caused the Lower Nest dwellers to vomit one after another; the air filled with “puking” sounds.

The compartment, already a maelstrom of odors, now added one more.

Winnie’s eyes widened in disbelief as she stared at the scene.

Everywhere, filth had been sprayed; Winnie, who had been holding back, could no longer contain herself.

“Vom—!”