Driver: "…………………………"

Just moments ago, the driver had been giggling away, but now it was as if he had swallowed a whole whale alive. The entire car swerved in two bizarre arcs before finally steadying.

"Where to????"

"Liquor City suburbs, Lenghu Detention Center."

"Do I really have to drop you off at the entrance?"

"……"

Even though James Bennett's frozen face was stretched so tight it looked about to crack, he had no choice but to adapt to this driver's style—because in Liquor City, most drivers on the street were probably the same.

The port where the shuttle stopped was not close to Lenghu Detention Center. James Bennett had never been to this area before; he had only seen on the smart map that it would take about an hour and a half by car.

But this driver outdid himself, driving as if the car was on fire, as if he was transporting not two passengers but a whole load of explosives.

As a result, they arrived at the detention center an hour earlier than estimated.

"So, the golden ten minutes turned into a brass hour," William Carter said.

The driver dropped them off two blocks from the detention center, then spun the car around and sped off, leaving them in a cloud of exhaust.

"The exhaust actually smells better than the evening breeze," William Carter added.

"Why don't you stay here and keep smelling it? I'll go apply to enter first," James Bennett said coldly. Without waiting for his intern, he strode off.

William Carter sighed and quickly caught up.

"Alright, come on, tell me about our client," William Carter said, walking side by side with James Bennett and getting down to business.

"Joshua Dalle, 14 years old, accused of burglary."

Across the entire Interstellar Alliance, the pace of development varied from system to system, from planet to planet, and so did the average lifespan of people in different regions. In long-lived places like Decama, the average lifespan could reach 250 years; in shorter-lived places like Liquor City, it was less than 100.

But regardless, when it came to the age classification for juveniles, the entire Interstellar Alliance was basically in agreement—

Adulthood at 18.

Even if you lived to be a thousand-year-old turtle, you were considered an adult at 18. How long you managed to stick around after that was your own business.

And in the Interstellar Alliance's criminal code, there were two other important age milestones: 14 and 16—

Once you turned 14, you could be held criminally responsible for certain serious crimes. If you happened to make it to 16, then you couldn't escape responsibility for any crime.

Unfortunately, the serious crimes that applied at 14 happened to include robbery.

"Fourteen? Birthday already passed?" William Carter asked.

"Turned 14 just two days before the robbery," came the reply.

"Talk about growing up at the wrong time," William Carter commented.

Whether with friends or strangers, this guy's sarcasm was always on the same level, making it hard to tell if he was being purely ironic or trying to be friendly. You could never tell which comments were meant kindly and which were not.

James Bennett glanced at him, lips moving as if to say something.

But William Carter didn't notice and continued, "So what's up with the bail? Normally, if he's a minor and hasn't been convicted, bail should be routine. We shouldn't even have to bother—the reviewing officer should handle it."

Before a court declares someone guilty, the presumption of innocence applies to avoid harming the innocent.

This was a universally accepted professional rule across the Alliance. Precisely because of this rule, successful bail was the norm.

"That's how it works elsewhere, not here," James Bennett replied.

"How come?" William Carter was a bit surprised. "They never made exceptions here before."

"Before?" James Bennett turned to look at William Carter. "How do you know what it was like before?"

Oops, slipped up.

William Carter immediately replied calmly, "Case studies. After years of school, if nothing else, I've read plenty of cases. Bail in Liquor City wasn't hard before—at least it was normal at the end of last year."

James Bennett looked away and said, "Sounds like your hard work stopped at last year. Clearly, you haven't read any new cases from the past few months."

Professor Yan rolled his eyes inwardly: No kidding, I've spent the last few months attending memorials, not reading anything.

"Liquor City gets worse every year. It's been especially chaotic these past few months—everything depends on who you are, and bail is no exception," James Bennett explained simply.

William Carter thought to himself: I only slept for half a year, and the world changed while I was out?

He hadn't yet reviewed the case details, so he couldn't make any snap judgments and said nothing more.

Lenghu Detention Center was a completely independent and enclosed place. The cluster of crowded, shabby houses stopped abruptly two or three hundred meters from the center, refusing to extend even a step closer.

People living nearby didn't like to walk around here either, probably thinking it was unlucky.

So, the area in front of the detention center was probably the only clean open space in all of Liquor City—even the birds held it in and flew a bit farther before relieving themselves.

Yet, in this godforsaken place, William Carter and James Bennett found a child.

It was a skinny little girl, about seven or eight years old, her face unwashed for who knows how many days, crouched in a corner, her overly large eyes staring fixedly at the detention center gate.