First Hearing

--- 2:15 am ---

Dylan lay on his bed, defeated and in pain. The sound of his ceiling fan irritated him more than ever today, but he felt too demoralized to turn it off.

"You could have given me a reward for all the trouble I went through." He blurted out, frustrated by the drastic turn of what he considered a perfect night.

{You should be grateful you are still breathing. Who the hell doesn't have lubricants in his home?}

Dylan sat up, his annoyance reflected on the wrinkles above his twisted eyebrows.

"How was I supposed to know she's a virgin? What the heck, my dick paid the price!" He yelled, springing to his feet.

{Guess who had hundreds of lubricants? A rapper named DeeDee, and he's not even the sin of Lust. Guess who else had lubricants in their home? Nate! That's probably why your bitch took her dry ass pussy over there to get it gelled} The voice was ruthless as ever, murdering Dylan in the first round.

Dylan facepalmed and sat down, his hands caressing his temples. His blood pressure has been rising drastically ever since he gained this system.

"What do you take me for? A dog in heat?!" Dylan snapped, but the system was not backing down.

{Sin of Lust???????}

"No, no, no, you got it all wrong." Dylan chuckled, his tone filled with mockery.

"I am not the dog that humps every female he sees. I will be the golden bull that only mates with the best cows." He said with a sense of pride.

{You deluded fool, you are the dog. You will fuck on command and serve your purpose as the sin of lust. This is not a debate.} The voice snapped, putting an end to the discussion instantly.

-------

The scorching morning rays invaded through the uncovered window wall, teaming up with the thunderous rings of the alarm clock to wake Dylan.

Dylan yawned, stretching his lazy bones while his eyelids flipped open. He slapped the alarm clock off the bedside table before rolling off the bed in the opposite direction.

He considered going out to meet Clara, but quickly decided against it. He concluded it would be best to get ready first.

In barely an hour, Dylan was done bathing and even picked out a black suit with a purple tie. For some reason, darker colors became alluring.

"Clara..." Dylan knocked on the door while calling out, but there was no response. He gently tugged the open, stunned, seeing an empty run.

He walked downstairs, checking even in the kitchen. Dylan saw a plate of fried eggs, some beef jerky, and toasted bread with a little letter placed next to it.

{Shy people drama is always cliché} The voice sounded like it was going to throw up.

{Left for a change of clothes? Hah! I bet she's embarrassed she pulled a Wolverine on you.} The voice laughed upon seeing the contents of the letter through Dylan's eyes.

He slapped the letters closed, rolling his eyes at the voice.

"A nice gesture, but I don't eat before cases. A shame." Dylan shook his head.

---- Chicago Courthouse, Richard J. Daley Center, 50 W Washington Street ---

Natural light streamed through the tall windows, but it did little to ease the tension in the air. Dylan sat at the defense table beside his client, 20 Shots, whose real name, Jones Brown, was listed on the court docket.

Jones fidgeted, his cuffed wrists resting on the table. Despite his tough exterior, his eyes darted around the room, betraying his unease.

Dylan adjusted his tie as he mentally rehearsed his arguments. Across the room, the prosecutor, a sharp-suited woman of Asian descent, shuffled her papers with an air of confidence.

"All rise for Judge Carter." The bailiff announced.

The courtroom stood as the judge, a middle-aged man with graying hair and a stern demeanor, entered and took his seat. His gaze swept across the prosecution team and the defendant team for a second before speaking.

"You may be seated," he said, his voice firm.

Judge Carter shifted his attention to the file before him.

"This is case number 1045, The People vs. Jones Brown. The defendant is charged with second-degree murder. How does the defendant plead?" He recited effortlessly.

"Not guilty, Your Honor." Dylan rose to his feet.

The judge nodded, then turned to the prosecutor.

"Ms. Akio, the charges?" He asked with a slightly warmer tone; thankfully, the warmth didn't reach his eyes.

"Your Honor, the defendant is accused of fatally shooting Ramon Carter outside the Velvet Viper club. Eyewitnesses placed him at the scene, and he has a history of violent behavior, including prior felony convictions for assault and illegal possession of firearms. We believe he poses a significant threat to the community." Akio sent swinging as soon as she stood.

Dylan frowned but kept his composure, especially since 20 Shots was beside him.

"Your Honor, while my client does have prior convictions, they are not for crimes of this magnitude. Furthermore, the evidence presented is purely circumstantial. There is no weapon, no physical evidence tying him to the crime, and the only witness is the victim's cousin, who has a clear conflict of interest. Additionally, critical CCTV footage from the club has mysteriously disappeared." Dylan retorted quickly.

"Mr. Morningstar, are you suggesting evidence tampering?" Judge Carter leaned in his direction, an eyebrow raised.

"I am suggesting that this case requires further investigation, Your Honor. My client maintains his innocence and deserves the opportunity to prepare his defense without being prejudged," Dylan replied, flashing a glance at Aiko.

Judge Carter nodded and shifted his gaze to Jones.

"Mr. Brown, your history does you no favors here. Felonies for assault and firearms possession paint a picture of someone who is no stranger to violence." He asked in a neutral tone.

Jones clenched his jaw but remained silent, following Dylan's earlier advice to let him handle the talking.

"Your Honor, given his history and the severity of the charge, we request that bail be denied. The defendant is a flight risk and a danger to public safety." Aiko saw this as an opportunity and pressed on without hesitation.

"Your Honor, denying bail would be unjust. My client has ties to this community and has never missed a court appearance in any of his prior cases." Dylan countered and stepped forward, beads of sweat running down his face. "Furthermore, the prosecution's argument relies heavily on assumptions rather than concrete evidence. I request reasonable bail to be set."

Judge Carter tapped his pen against the desk, deep in thought. He could feel the tension in the room and couldn't help but admit both sides had made reasonable arguments.

Only after pondering for nearly a minute did he finally speak up.

"Given the defendant's record and the gravity of the charges, I cannot ignore the potential risk. However, the lack of direct evidence is concerning," Judge Carter finally said. "Bail is set at $250,000. Mr. Brown will be released on the condition of electronic monitoring. Any violations and he will be remanded immediately."

Buzz!

Jones exhaled sharply, relief washing over his face. Dylan's eyes widened with excitement at the outcome. While he expected this outcome, he still felt ecstatic.

"A preliminary hearing will be set for two weeks from today. Court adjourned." Judge Carter concluded, his decision cemented with the strike of the gravel.