Mike Ross's assistant stood at the display screen, professional and composed.
"Over the next three days, we will present evidence showing a pattern of behavior that strongly suggests Davis Brown's disappearance was not accidental, but the result of deliberate action."
The crowd leaned forward, fully engaged.
The assistant—a man named Leon Hauser, average height, professional suit, the kind of face you'd forget five minutes after meeting him—gestured to the screen showing a simple outline:
DAY ONE: Establishing Connections
DAY TWO: Physical Evidence and Timeline Analysis
DAY THREE: Conclusion and Recommendation
"Today," Hauser continued, "we will demonstrate why these two individuals warrant investigation."
Before the presentation could continue, Malik Hayes raised a hand.
"Before we proceed, the defendants have the right to legal representation. The Underground maintains a list of qualified advocates. Do either of you wish to request counsel?"
Odd looked at Lucius, uncertain.
Lucius stood slowly. "I'd like to speak with Odd privately before answering that question."
Malik's scowl deepened. "This is a formal proceeding. Private consultations—"
"Are a standard right before accepting or declining representation," Lucius interrupted calmly. "I'm entitled to discuss the option with my co-defendant."
The officials exchanged glances. Marcus Webb nodded. "He's correct. It's within procedural rights."
Malik gestured impatiently. "Fine. Five minutes. Guards, take them to the side chamber."
---
The side chamber was small—barely more than a storage room converted for holding. Two chairs, one table, cameras in the corners, guards outside the door.
Lucius sat across from Odd, voice low but clear.
"They're going to offer us advocates from their approved list."
Odd nodded nervously. "That's good, right? Someone who knows how this works?"
"Someone they control," Lucius corrected. "Think about it. Who approves that list? Who decides which advocates are 'qualified'? This entire facility is run by the organization Davis worked for. Anyone they provide will be compromised."
Odd's face went pale. "So what do we do?"
"We represent ourselves. I'll handle most of the talking. You follow my lead."
"But you're not a lawyer. How are you supposed to—"
"This isn't about law," Lucius said quietly. "It's about giving them a show. The jury isn't the officials. It's the crowd. Fighters and criminals who want entertainment. They don't care about legal procedure. They care about who's more interesting to watch."
Odd stared at him. "You're going to treat this like... like performance?"
"I'm going to treat it like what it is. A game where the rules are flexible and the audience decides who wins." Lucius's expression remained neutral. "So yes. We defend ourselves. No representatives. No one we can't trust. Agreed?"
Odd swallowed hard, then nodded. "Agreed."
---
They returned to the platform five minutes later.
Malik looked at them expectantly. "Decision?"
Lucius stood. "We decline representation. I'll speak for both defendants."
"You're certain? Legal expertise could—"
"I'm certain."
Malik's scowl somehow deepened, but he nodded. "Noted. The defendant King will represent both parties." He looked at Mike Ross and his team. "Proceed with evidence presentation."
Mike's smile widened fractionally. His assistant Hauser resumed position at the display.
The other assistant—Caesar Dan Chen, equally forgettable, holding a tablet—activated the screen showing training footage.
"The relationship between King and Odd began approximately three weeks ago," Hauser narrated. "Multiple witnesses observed extensive training sessions."
The footage rolled. Different days, different sessions. Lucius demonstrating defensive techniques. Odd practicing hardening timing, impact absorption, force distribution.
"This isn't casual sparring," Carter continued. "This is comprehensive instruction. Hours invested in ensuring Odd survives difficult opponents."
More footage. Lucius correcting Odd's positioning. Teaching him to control engagements rather than react to them.
"Why this much effort?" Hauser asked the crowd. "Fighters here are competitors. Potential opponents. Yet King dedicated significant time to Odd's improvement."
He paused, letting the question hang.
"Perhaps simple kindness. Or perhaps..." Hauser pulled up fighter profiles side by side.
DAVIS BROWN - Tier 4
ODD - Mid to High Tier 3
"Davis Brown was scheduled to fight Odd in Round 3 Fight 3. The power gap was substantial. Davis's record showed aggressive, overwhelming victories. When opponents couldn't match his level, the results were lethal."
Brief clips from Davis's previous fights appeared. Brutal. Efficient. Overwhelming force.
"Odd faced near-certain death if that match proceeded," Hauser stated. "But if Davis Brown disappeared before the match? Odd advances by default. Problem solved."
The implication settled over the crowd. Murmurs began spreading.
"Now," Hauser continued, "Odd likely couldn't handle a tier 4 opponent alone. But King?" He gestured at Lucius's profile.
KING - Tier Unknown
Record: 3 Wins, 0 Losses
Abilities: Never Clearly Displayed
"King has won every match without revealing obvious powers. His combat skills suggest someone capable of handling significant threats. Someone who could make a tier 4 fighter disappear."
Caesar Dan Chen stepped forward, reading from his tablet. "We also have documented timeline gaps. King's fight with Iron Clad Wang concluded at approximately 4:50 PM yesterday. He checked into medical immediately after for treatment. Medical records show he was checked out at 8:35 PM. That's nearly four hours in the medical facility."
Hauser nodded. "Davis was last seen on cameras around 4:48 PM, leaving the arena floor during King's fight. King checked into medical shortly after Davis left. Both in the same general area. Davis vanished somewhere during the timeframe King was receiving treatment."
The crowd leaned forward. The timeline was suspicious.
"We're not claiming definitive proof," Hauser said. "We're establishing reasonable connections. Motive—Odd benefits from Davis's absence. Means—King has the capability. Opportunity—timeline overlaps in the medical area. Training relationship—unusual investment suggesting partnership."
He looked at the officials. "Tomorrow we'll present more specific evidence. For now, we've demonstrated why these two warrant investigation."
Malik looked at Lucius. "Defendants may respond."
Lucius stood slowly, walked to the center platform.
His expression was calm, almost casual. Not defensive. Not aggressive. Just... present.
"Everything presented is accurate," Lucius said simply.
The crowd went quiet. That wasn't the response they'd expected.
"I did train Odd extensively. The footage is real. Davis Brown was significantly more powerful than Odd. I was in the medical facility for nearly four hours. All true."
Hauser blinked, clearly thrown off balance. This was supposed to be a defense, not a confirmation.
Lucius continued, his tone conversational. "But correlation isn't causation. Let me present some other accurate statements."
He gestured toward the crowd.
"Executive Ross sponsored Monster. Monster was actually a fifteen-year-old girl who'd been turned into a weapon through experimentation and mostlikely even torture. She died in the arena during Round 2 Fight 3. Executive Ross smiled while looking at her corpse."
Mike Ross's smile didn't waver, but something shifted in his eyes.
"All accurate," Lucius said calmly. "I observed it. Others observed it. Verifiable facts. So using the logic presented—if Executive Ross treats fighters as disposable toys and Davis Brown was his fighter, perhaps we should investigate whether Ross eliminated his own investment for unknown reasons or simply to manipulate this tournament."
The crowd murmured loudly now. Some laughed. Others looked genuinely curious about that theory.
Hauser tried to recover. "That's speculation and deflection—"
"It's exactly what you just did," Lucius interrupted, his tone still casual. "Present true facts, imply connection, suggest guilt. I'm just demonstrating how easy that is."
He walked back toward his table.
"I trained Odd because he asked for help and seemed worth helping. Davis Brown disappearing benefits many people—every fighter who might face him, every executive who bet against him, anyone with a grudge. Focusing solely on Odd and me ignores dozens of other possibilities."
Lucius sat down.
"If you have evidence I actually did something wrong, present it. Otherwise, you're just telling stories with true details."
The crowd was engaged now. This was better than most fights—watching someone calmly dismantle accusations while technically confirming them.
Mike Ross stood for the first time, his voice pleasant.
"The defendant makes entertaining points. But deflection doesn't change the core facts. Tomorrow we'll present physical evidence that's much harder to dismiss with rhetoric."
He looked at Lucius with that wide smile.
"I look forward to seeing how creative your explanations become."
Malik Hayes stood. "This tribunal has been in session for an hour. We'll adjourn until tomorrow at 12 PM for Day Two evidence presentation."
He looked at the guards. "Return defendants to holding."
The crowd began filtering out, discussing animatedly. Lucius had given them a show—casual defiance, counter-accusations, entertainment value.
As guards escorted Lucius and Odd away, Caesar Dan Chen leaned toward Hauser, whispering. "He's treating this like a game."
"That's the problem," Hauser muttered back. "The crowd likes it."
Mike Ross remained at his table, reviewing tomorrow's materials with his assistants. That smile never faded.
Tomorrow would be different. Tomorrow they'd present the bathroom footage. The fire timing. The physical evidence.
Tomorrow, Lucius's casual deflections wouldn't be enough.
---
Back in his holding cell, Lucius sat on the bed, thinking.
Day One had gone as expected. They'd presented motive and timeline gaps—all circumstantial, but enough to create suspicion.
Tomorrow they'd reveal the bathroom. Show him going there around 8:15 PM during his medical treatment, staying several minutes, exiting. Then the fire starting nearby hours later.
That would look bad. Very bad.
Tomorrow would be complicated.
But he'd handled complicated before.
---
TO BE CONTINUED