Chapter 52 - The Judge II

“Good heavens.”

I asked, half incredulous, but with an anticipation I couldn't conceal filling the other half.

“Can zombies really serve as judges?”

“Now, now. They're NPCs, not zombies. Please never make that mistake again. As for whether it'll work... well, I don't know either, but it's certainly worth a try... wouldn't you say?”

Despite her words, unconcealable anticipation glittered in Noh Doha's sly eyes, too.

Like little kids plotting mischief behind their teachers' backs, we looked into the zombie room—that is, the storeroom where the texts of legal codes were being recited without pause.

Judges!

Somehow restoring the function of a court in this ruined world had been a cherished ambition of Noh Doha's and mine for a very long time.

The National Road Management Corps had successfully connected the shredded remnants of the country with slender strands of spiderweb. But operating a nationwide court system was still impossible.

'For major cases, I can temporarily appoint myself judge, or the influential guild leaders can gather and handle them like a jury, but... '

Neither the guild leaders nor I had time to spare. How were we supposed to handle the dozens of incidents that occurred every day in an apocalyptic world?

For now, that left the guilds occupying each city no choice but to run their own sort-of-court systems.

In short, we'd handed gavels to gangsters. How could that possibly work properly?

Busan, ruled by a governor like Dang Seorin with Intelligence 91 and Politics 95, sang the praises of its golden age of peace and prosperity—by apocalypse standards, of course. Most cities on the Korean Peninsula, however, served a Magistrate Byeon as their master. Unless you were Sim Cheong, you were liable to receive outrageously unfair rulings. And even if you were Sim Cheong, it would've been just as fucking awful.

“How long do you think it'll take to load all those legal codes into their heads...?”

“Oh. Um, I've never told them to memorize this much before, so I can't say for sure, but a month should be plenty!”

Noh Doha nodded at Cheon Yohwa's answer. We sealed the storeroom door and returned to our daily lives.

At last, one month later.

Noh Doha, the Saintess, and I—the entire so-called Regression Alliance—assembled. Cheon Yohwa joined us as a guest member, too.

“All right, I'm opening it!”

The heavy storeroom door opened with a clunk.

A rank odor wafted out, as though an unemployed shut-in's bodily juices had been left to simmer in a bedroom for three months.

Nobody so much as furrowed a brow. Naturally. These days, the proper attitude of a modern person was to smell a corpse outside their front door, think, 'Someone else croaked last night,' and move on.

“Hmm.”

In the middle of the storeroom stood a zombie... no, an NPC, its mouth hanging slack in an utterly idiotic expression.

I wondered whether that thing could really memorize legal codes properly, but not a single dimwit in our party judged people by their appearance.

“It looks dumb as fuck...”

Except Noh Doha.

“Anyway, let's hurry and test it. Everyone here is busy, after all. Now, our junior Cheon Yohwa...?”

“Oh, yes, Senior!”

Cheon Yohwa hopped over to stand before the NPC. She reached out and stroked its head.

“You're a judge.”

[...]

“When disputes arise between people or organizations, please determine which side is right, or mediate between them!”

Shadows slipped silently into it.

As she whispered about the role of a judge, dark shadows seeped from Cheon Yohwa's forearm into the NPC's head. Their gently swishing tails made them look just like tiny, jet-black snakes.

That must be Cheon Yohwa's necromancy.

Before long, every last black snake had tucked its tail into the NPC's skull. Cheon Yohwa let out a “Whew” and waved her hand.

“It's done. This is my first time making a 'request' like this, so I don't know whether it took properly. Anyway, ask it anything!”

“Hmm.”

I glanced back at the Saintess.

Her default expression was always blank, making her difficult to read, but my seasoned regressor's eyes could tell that she, too, was deeply interested in the NPC before us.

After all, wasn't she the very person who'd gone dark in run 107 because evildoers were roaming free without proper punishment?

Noticing my glance, Noh Doha also yielded the first turn to the Saintess.

“Why don't you ask first...?”

“...”

The Saintess nodded and stepped forward to face the NPC.

Even with the undivided attention of the awakened boasting the greatest abilities or authority on the Korean Peninsula, the NPC's mouth still hung stupidly open.

Cheon Yohwa spoke cheerfully.

“First, set up a scenario!”

“... A middle-aged man entered an abandoned house. However, an eleven-year-old child was actually living there. While looking around for anything useful, the man discovered the child, who immediately swore at him and told him to fuck off. Enraged by the abuse, the man lunged at the child and stabbed the child's neck with a dagger about the size of a kitchen knife, killing the child.”

“Huh.”

“The man believes that he had no intention of killing the child. In this case, please answer whether the killer had intent, and therefore whether it would affect his sentence.”

[Beginning response. Intent in the crime of murder does not necessarily require a purpose to kill or a premeditated intention to kill.]

CLICK.

The NPC's neck, which had been tilted at about ten degrees, abruptly straightened.

[Awareness of the possibility of killing is sufficient. Here, 'awareness of the possibility of killing' includes conditional intent. That is, it also encompasses killings that were not intended.]

“...”

[Considering the manner of the offense—including that the defendant, greatly enraged by the victim's abusive language, lunged at the victim with a dagger, and immediately thrust it forcefully down into the victim's neck, inflicting a fatal wound and causing immediate death at the scene—it is impossible to accept that the defendant lacked 'awareness of the possibility of killing' at the time. In light of the circumstances, finding the defendant guilty of the criminal acts in this murder case is justified.]

“...”

[Response complete.]

Its head flopped down again, limp.

“Hmm.”

While everyone else remained silent, Noh Doha let out a contemplative hum. No, it was closer to a groan.

Everyone had a distinctive habit when lost in thought.

Noh Doha's was to fiddle with the black gloves she always wore. She pinched the tip of the index finger, pulling it this way and that before pushing it back into place, as if tending an invisible fingernail.

“Hmmm. Well, if it can do this much...?”

Noh Doha stretched her leather glove taut, tugging so hard it nearly tore.

A sinister little chuckle drifted through the utterly shabby storeroom.

“Let's test it in the field right away...”

4

To start with the outcome, the beta test of the AI judges wasn't particularly impressive.

“What? AI judges?”

“What use would those be?”

Because the guild leaders occupying each city felt no particular need to introduce them.

They already enjoyed a status no different from warlords. Why should we make the judiciary independent? Isn't separation of powers an outdated concept anyway?

But however much the guild leaders played at being Lu Bu in their own neighborhoods, they had their limits. In other words, the moment they crossed their neighborhood boundaries, they became shrinking violets.

“Their guild invaded our turf first!”

“How is that your turf? It's our territory. Besides, you killed our people first!”

Disputes between guilds, for instance.

In cases like these, guild leaders usually fought until one side died or asked a third party to mediate.

And there were only three people on the Korean Peninsula whom everyone acknowledged as someone they could reasonably trust to mediate. Dang Seorin. Noh Doha. Me.

“Commander of the National Road Management Corps!”

“Commander, please settle this for us!”

Noh Doha adopted an expression that suggested she wanted to sympathize with their circumstances as fully as possible.

“Oh dear, so that's what happened. As always, I'll mediate with the utmost sincerity, doing my best to leave no hard feelings or grievances...”

“Thank you, Commander! We're counting on you!”

“Of course.”

The problem was that the three of us couldn't be perfectly fair.

Of course, we tried our best. But whether we appeared fair to outsiders was another matter.

Satisfying both sides in a dispute was all but impossible, so every proposed settlement generated quite a bit of talk behind our backs.

“By the way, everyone. Have you heard of these new AI judges? They're pretty fucking amazing...”

“Pardon?”

That was precisely the opening Noh Doha targeted to push AI judges on the guild leaders.

And here, too, she laid on her usual sales patter.

“You know I was a civil servant before the world ended up like this...?”

“Oh, yes. Everyone knows that story.”

“Actually, even back then, the government was discussing whether to introduce AI judges, and how much authority to grant them if they did. Couldn't we leave the trivial cases that simply require straightforward rulings based on precedent to AI judges...? That was also the prevailing opinion in legal circles.”

“Ah... I see...”

“A little while ago, our patrols swiped a few computers from a government building, and wouldn't you know it, one had an AI program installed? So this is genuine AI that was being used in practice. What do you say, everyone? Why not take this opportunity to hear its ruling as a trial run...?”

“Uh.”

“Of course, I have absolutely no intention of leaving the ruling to a mere program. We'd simply hear it out for reference: [What would a court have ruled if civilization were still intact?] The world has changed so much that we can't apply its ruling to the letter, but I believe there's merit in seeking an objective opinion from a third party other than 'us'...”

“Uh-huh.”

With the commander of the National Road Management Corps pitching this hard, the guild leaders weren't heartless enough to respond with “Don't wanna.” She was the head of the organization clearing routes and paving roads on their behalf, after all.

More importantly, I was standing at attention behind Noh Doha. The presence of an awakened who'd smashed Tenlegs' head all by himself made those warlords think twice. Three times, even.

“Well, then, shall we just hear what it has to say this once...?”

And the guild leaders discovered firsthand that the AI judges were reasonably fair and surprisingly convenient.

[Ruling. A shall pay B two hundred million won in compensation.]

“Good heavens. Where am I supposed to find two hundred million won in banknotes these days?”

Noh Doha smiled sinisterly.

“Well? If you're unsatisfied, we can disregard this program's opinion and I can mediate from the beginning instead...?”

“...”

“...”

The guild leaders pondered. Interpreting their looks, their thoughts went something like this.

'If we're talking goods worth two hundred million before the country collapsed, wouldn't handing over one small workshop roughly cover it? That's cheap for settling a dispute.'

'It sided with me, anyway. If I leave the mediation to Commander Noh Doha and she smooths things over again, saying we should all just get along, wouldn't I lose face instead?'

The guild leaders exchanged looks.

“Uh, um. Could we try reaching an agreement between ourselves first, and ask you again if it doesn't work out, Commander?”

“Oh, absolutely. I'll give each of you a couple of NPCs equipped with this AI, too, so put them to good use...”

“Huh? Are you sure?”

“Of course. Heh. They're free...”

The judge NPCs Noh Doha had produced were distributed evenly among the cities of the Korean Peninsula.

The guild leaders returned to their respective cities and considered how to use their new toys.

And naturally, even when a single guild governed a city, it contained numerous factions.

“Your people invaded our turf first!”

“How is that your turf? It's our territory. Besides, you killed our people first!”

“Boss!”

“Boss, please settle this for us!”

“Uh...”

Whenever a dispute arose between factions, mediating it was naturally the guild leader's job.

By making an appropriate judgment at such times, a guild leader demonstrated their power. Even so, earning a reputation for fairness in every matter was no easy task.

And at last, the guild leaders realized it.

The role these intriguing but seemingly outdated and impractical AI judges could perform.

“By the way, guys. Have you heard of these new AI judges? They're pretty fucking amazing...”

“Pardon?”

AI judges: nationwide debut confirmed!