Revenge of the Iron-Blooded Sword Hound (Novel) Chapter 29

C29: Special Law for Vikir (2)

Dortsmile Street, the heart of the metropolitan city's Underdog District.

A prominent notice was displayed on a large banner in the bustling central square.

It was rare for the Subcónsul's office to directly post a notice in this area, but the content of the notice itself was nothing particularly new.

<Baskerville Autonomous Region Constitution, Article 00, Section 0. Law Prohibiting Illegal Human Trafficking... Penalty: Capital Punishment>

<Baskerville Autonomous Region Constitution, Article 00, Section 0. Law Prohibiting Illegal Gambling... Penalty: Wrist Severance>

<Baskerville Autonomous Region Constitution, Article 00, Section 0. Law Prohibiting Illegal Usury... Penalty: Eyeball Extraction>

<Baskerville Autonomous Region Constitution, Article 00, Section 0. Law Prohibiting Illegal Entertainment Establishments... Penalty: Facial Tattooing>

<Baskerville Autonomous Region Constitution, Article 00, Section 0. Law Prohibiting Illegal Lobbying... Penalty: Exile>



These were all existing laws.

The laws of the iron-blooded Baskerville jurisdiction were known to be quite severe.

However, there were hardly any citizens who believed that these laws would be properly enforced.

"Ha, laws only favor the privileged ones."

"The upper heads are the ones benefiting from it all."

"In a world where those who abide by the law suffer losses, isn't it?"

"The law is distant, but the fist is close by."

The citizens of the Underdog City, where the crime rate is particularly high, scoff at the seemingly futile laws.

They have witnessed firsthand how the bureaucrats from Baskerville, local authorities, and descendants of the second and third generations of the powerful have colluded and taken advantage of each other.

Those with money, those who hold power, those who are strong manipulate, interpret, and enforce laws in their own favor...

If you have no money, no connections, and no power, there is no way to seek justice even when unjust things happen to you.

All they can do is cry, drink, blame their own luck, or take out their frustration on someone weaker and unluckier than themselves.

As citizens of the Underdog City accustomed to such fate, it is only natural for them to have deep distrust in the law.

"But still, with the Subcónsuls being caught accepting bribes, something might change, right?"

"How could that be? The new Subcónsul who just arrived in Baskerville is said to be only 15 years old."

"What? If they're 15, they're the same age as our youngest daughter. What can such a youngling do?"

That's what I'm saying. It won't be long before they get cooked up and boiled in the regional authorities' lobbying."

Public opinion was not particularly favorable towards the new Subcónsul.

Some expressed doubts about their age, others about the infamous law, some about the countless illegal organizations scattered around, and others about the many temptations targeting novice bureaucrats.

And that's when it happened.

"Hey, guys! Come to the central square! It's big news!"

The already bustling street became even more crowded.

People hurried to the square, curious about what spectacle had emerged.

Countless crowds.

And amidst them, there was an empty space as if a meteor had fallen.

A circular space where no one could set foot.

In the center stood a boy with a cold and stern impression, holding a staff.

This was the newly appointed 15-year-old subcónsul, "Vikir Van Baskerville."

Vikir held a small stick in his hand.

It was 70 centimeters long, a small stake weighing about 3 kilograms.

People reluctantly gathered to see the newly appointed subcónsul, but they couldn't get close.

It was because of the overwhelming aura emanating from the boy's small body.

And behind this impenetrable aura stood several officials, nervously watching.

They were the staff of the subcónsul office, including Staffordshire and Chihuahua.

"Oh dear, what is the subcónsul trying to do?"

"He's just standing there since dawn, can't you see?"

"Wow, a lot of people have gathered here."

The citizens and officials were equally clueless about what Vikir intended to do in this place.

And then.


Vikir, confirming that the audience had gathered to some extent, began to speak.

"I am the newly appointed subcónsul."

The murmurs from the surrounding crowd grew louder.

"He's so young," "He looks even younger in person," "He's cute," "What can such a little kid do?" Most of the reactions were not serious.

Ignoring the gazes and voices around him, Vikir continued his speech.

"Everyone must have seen the notices posted in the north square."

At that moment, the citizens' gazes turned toward the north.

Indeed, there were large banners displaying the laws written on them.

"Baskerville Autonomous Territory Constitution, Article 00, Clause 0. Law against tax evasion... Punishment: Dislocated kneecaps."

"Baskerville Autonomous Territory Constitution, Article 00, Clause 0. Law against illegal immigration... Punishment: Water burial."

"Baskerville Autonomous Territory Constitution, Article 00, Clause 0. Law against illegal drugs... Punishment: Tongue amputation."

"Baskerville Autonomous Territory Constitution, Article 00, Clause 0. Law against embezzlement of military supplies... Punishment: Execution by three-legged torture."

"Baskerville Autonomous Territory Constitution, Article 00, Clause 0. Law against adultery... Punishment: 600 lashes."



Well, these laws may not be effectively enforced, but they are familiar.

A law that seems abstract, only applying to the weak without money, power, or strength.

Since the creation of these laws, the number of commoners punished by these laws is countless, while the number of noble or influential figures punished is zero, revealing the harsh reality.

The citizens' gaze returned to Vikir, away from the banners.

Vikir spoke.

"Those are nothing new; they have always existed. They are the strict and unwavering laws that have maintained the autonomy of Baskerville."

Laughter softly emerged from the surroundings.

It was a clear mockery of the justice system that doesn't apply to those with money, power, and strength.

However, Vikir did not choose to punish those who laughed.


He simply glanced over the faces of the crowd, indifferent.

His attitude was somewhere between leniency and indifference.

Vikir continued speaking in his dry voice.

"Even if the subconsul changes, the autonomy laws of Baskerville will remain strict and intact."

Despite the audience's mockery, Vikir showed no reaction, which made the audience become more daring.

Mocking comments like "How impressive!" "Of course, that's how it will be!" "Sure, sure, we understand!" could be heard from various places.

Chihuahua, the subconsul's aide who had never witnessed such a sight, exclaimed loudly from behind.

"These people! How dare they ridicule the place we call safe with their disrespectful mouths! This person is someone who came from the heartland of Baskerville! They should have their throat slit by a blade to come to their senses!"

Chihuahua, as an influential local government official, enjoys quite a reputation among the citizens. So, even those who were jeering became cautious and restrained their voices.

"Ugh, Chihuahua should stop talking."

"Gosh, how can the aide have more charisma than the subconsul?"

"I wish Chihuahua could be the subconsul instead."

"Look at that little brat. If it weren't for Chihuahua, he wouldn't even be able to refute the jeers."

"Looks like the law will become even more of a mess."

If it had been the usual, they wouldn't have dared to react, but Vikir's young age, innocent face, and indifference to the surrounding reactions made them capable of such disregard.


True to form, Vikir didn't respond at all this time either.

Even in this atmosphere where he was being compared and belittled by his subordinate, Chihuahua, Vikir simply stood there with an expressionless face.

The officials from the city hall, including Subcónsul Chihuahua, were perplexed by those who blushed for no reason and didn't know what to do.

Meanwhile, even the citizens who had been jeering at Vikir for not reacting felt a sense of defeat.

"Is it because he's a kid that he can't even flinch at such humiliation?"

"How can such a young kid enforce the law?"

"...Criminals will probably run rampant for a while longer."

Resignation, mockery, anger, pity, and scornful gazes were directed at Vikir.

And at that moment.

Vikir raised the stick he was holding high.

And then...


He drove it straight into the ground.

The stick sunk about 10cm into the ground.

It was quite sturdy, but it was nothing more than a small stake.

Even children could easily pull it out.


When all the citizens looked puzzled, Vikir, who had taken a few steps back, spoke up.

"From now on, as the Subcónsul, I will enact a new special law with my legislative authority."

Article 1, Paragraph 1 of Vikir's special law.

"To whoever pulls out this stake, I will reward them with 100 million gold in cash."

It was that simple.

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