It was decided that it would be good to answer some questions before going inside for the trial in front of the courthouse. I am a public figure, after all.

The family is safely inside the building as I stand with Free Chains before waving microphones, flashes of light, and sweaty camera guys. I hold Flash Gordon in his matching suit while Rob stands around like a bodyguard. Duchess is fashionably on my shoulders. It's amusing watching the reporters pine for my attention. I don't feel any pleasure from the attention, but the fact that they try so hard gives me a weird sense of power over them.

This is a big thing, after all. Practically the first to go against the families. This isn't an issue of people getting assassinated before they can testify, but suits getting thrown out for any reason. Free Chains' [Lawspeaker] authority really must be something. The first question flies at me.

"Mr. Vincere! How are you feeling?"

"Prepared." What a lovely question.

A different reporter speaks up. "Why did you wait so long to file this lawsuit? Are you just looking for a payout?"

I'm confused. I look over at Free Chains, and he is just as puzzled.

"The suit was declared to the other party not even an hour after the event. It was publicly enounced in a timely matter as well. What do you mean by that question?"

A different reporter fires back with another hostile question. "You seem to have a personal vendetta against this family. Is this lawsuit just a way for you to get revenge?"

"Justice, not revenge."

"You do not deny the personal vendetta?"

I ignored him, but all that did was rile up the other reporters like a swarm of piranhas.

"Have you ever been involved in any criminal activity? Do you have a criminal record?"

"How do we know that you're telling the truth? Can you provide any evidence to support your claims?"

"Is it possible that you're just trying to tarnish the reputation of this family for your own gain?"

"Why are you making these accusations now when this family has been around for generations without any other legal issues?"

"Are you sure this lawsuit isn't just a frivolous attempt to waste the court's time and money?"

"Why should we believe your version of events? Have you considered that there may be other sides to this story?"

"Are you prepared to face the consequences if this lawsuit is thrown out of court?"

...what a crowd. I started to answer the questions one at a time, but that's when the reporter who asked how my day was asked, "Your lawyer is a cat? How can we take this seriously?"

I tilt my head and look at him. Blonde, young, older than me. The other reporters quiet down as the tone of the "interview" changes. I look at Free Chains and ask him a question loud enough that the microphones and the reporters can hear.

"Hey, Free Chains, did you know you were a cat? That's news to me. Here I thought you were a [Lawspeaker], one of, if not the most respectable professions a lawyer can have. This eagle-eye reporter has pulled the wool off my eyes and exposed you."

Free Chains, who is used to this kind of racist remarks, was silent. However, after my words, a cheeky grin formed on his face, inadvertently exposing one of his canines. Wait, canines are named after dogs, so wouldn't Free Chains have felines? Nevermind.

"Well, congratulations on your keen observational skills. Who would have thought a cat could pass as a [Lawspeaker]? But seriously, my profession and qualifications are not defined by my species. I am a capable and experienced lawyer whose track record speaks for itself. If you find issues, you may take it up with the god of law, themself."

I expected Free Chains to pull out the claws and be more vicious in his remarks, but he's a professional. The reporter retreats into the crowd and leaves my sight. Good riddance. How dare that fucker demean MY lawyer.

"I don't like the hostile questions. Questions that lead or attack. This is over."

Flashes of light baptize me as my picture is taken over and over as I turn and walk up the steps with Free Chains. The reporters know they aren't allowed farther up and don't bother tempting any of the impressive security personnel lining the building. Twenty feet before the front doors, they open, and the twins run out. They look like they are chasing each other in some game of tag^2. Their mother runs after them.

"Kids, stay inside-"

A roaring explosion in the middle of the family and I engulf the surroundings. Predictable.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

Even when we were right outside the courtroom, I didn't put it beneath one of the great families to stage an assassination. Free Chains handled any protection necessary before the trial. We almost predicted this since this would be the last chance they get. They survive only because my [Martyr] skill is active on everyone I deem necessary enough to keep alive. The flames almost seem to funnel to me as I take the brunt of the explosion eight times.

Myself, obviously. Then the three family members, Free Chains, Duchess, Flash Gordon, and Rob. The last two can take it, but I'm not risking them.

-300

-900

-900

-900

-900

-900

-900

-900

[Resistance: Fire 500 > 650 (750)]

With only 2000 hit points left, I stand in my ruined suit with my skin charred black. Burns that reach bone litter my body. I'm glad I instinctually clenched my eyes in time, or else my eyeballs would've melted out of my head. My suit held up more than expected, but it still turned into rags.

I can faintly hear screaming, but my hearing is shot. My skin regrows, and my suit patches itself as I pump myself and my clothing with healing. I look around as Free Chains soothes the frantic mother and confused children. I can roughly hear him tell me, "Thanks, with all this fur, I'm extremely vulnerable to fire."

I look around for any cowl-wearing assassins standing ominously in the darkness. Instead, I see someone ducking behind a ledge atop a nearby building. I assume the perpetrator had to confirm the deaths but was stunned when they saw my "performance." Purely speculation. I stop myself from running after them right away. I can't leave the family behind.

If I chased after the would-be assassin just for a second one to finish the job, I'd feel silly.

The guards from inside the building rush out, and the ones at the bottom of the steps start setting up a perimeter and calming the civilians. The guards that exited the building begin leading the family and Free Chains inside. I decided to release Flash Gordon.

Flash Gordon would've cracked the ground if it wasn't half-melted.

"Protect them, my rook."

I grab Rob and jump, breaking both my legs in the process. I zoom over the crowd toward the perpetrator as Duchess assists me with some of her [Telekinesis]. I slam hard feet first into the building and run until I reach the top.

I stand Rob up.

"Lead the way."

Rob is better than any bloodhound if his target is within one hundred feet. Whoever did this probably already cleared this distance, but that doesn't mean anything. I told Rob to lead the way, so he will.

Rob dashes in front of me and instantly kicks down the slightly open door leading into the building. We are on the roof of a five-story office building with employees currently glued to the windows thanks to the explosion. I follow but note that I don't see any blood or indication that the assassin got hurt by my thorns. The attack was indirect then.

If it was a spell that caused an area to explode, and they hurt me, that would be direct damage. They are directly attacking me as well as the environment.

But a hypothetical bead that would explode after impact would be indirect. If I was hit with said bead, the aggressor would take reflected damage from the throw, not the explosion. Either they got lucky, or they are aware of my reflection. The Ken family is acquainted with my thorns. Very much so.

However... Have I tested [Martyr] with my [Ring of Thorns]? I don't believe so. I should do some testing later. Also, I thought I would've gotten more resistance stats, but what do I know?

I follow Rob down the stairway. Rob's [Sense Life] might get muddled or overwhelmed since we are in a building full of people. At this point, I'm expecting the would-be assassin to be gone. Rob inspects every stairwell door on our rush down.

But as we reach the bottom of the stairs, I hear a commotion from the crowded street outside. Pushing past the throngs of people, I caught a glimpse of a figure darting down an alleyway. Suspicious. Without hesitation, I give chase, my feet pounding against the concrete.

Rob overtakes me and leaps at the figure, shovel branded. I can see the man now. He is dressed like an office worker and wears nondescript shoes. Sunglasses and a surgical mask cover his face. He would be unassuming and overlooked if it wasn't for the roll of scrolls pulled out of his suit jacket.

A ring on his middle finger flashes as a glowing light blade forms in his hand. The assassin riposte Rob's shovel and kicks Rob back. Rob retaliates with his [Boneshots]. With each broken finger, bone shards sink deep into his gut.

Before the scroll can finish activating, Duchess uses her [Telekinesis] on the guy's arm. With a sickening *snap* the assassin's wrist breaks and hangs loose. She yawns.

"Gah! Fucker."

I conjure my sword and throw it in one clean motion as I close in, but it gets deflected by the glowing blade. The assassin attempts to scale the building by jumping from one wall to another in this cramped alleyway. A hardy tug on the assassin's leg, thanks to Duchess' spirals him into the trash.

"Who sent you."

The man stabs me in the stomach. He tried* stabbing me in the stomach, but it didn't work out well for him. The tip of the blade slides right off my pierce-resistance skin. The reflected damage causes him to start bleeding more from the stomach.

[Assassin Lv???]

I guess I got the right guy. The level is hidden, but it should be similar to or less than mine. Class skill or maybe an item on his person?

I place my boot firmly against his throat. Rob shadows me with his shovel and lantern ready as Duchess hanging from my neck. She attempts to cast a mental spell, but it doesn't seem to hold.

*crack*

The sound of a tooth cracking rings out. The assassin's sunglass got displaced in the fall, and his eyes show fervent determination. Froth spills from his mouth. He has the look of a rabid dog. It's a good look for him.

"Not yet."

I counteract the poison with [Heal Anything] through contact from my boot. I make sure the suffering is prolonged. The assassin grasps at my leg, trying to remove my foot. Duchess casts more spells, and this time it holds.

The man starts seizing before going limp under my boot as his eyes turn hazy. The blade leaves his hand and shatters into light particles as his fingers twitch like a piano player on crack. The assassin weakly nods his head, neck twitching in the process. He then shakes his head no before nodding once again.

[You can stop now.]

I stop the drain on my mana, causing the assassin to die immediately. I don't have enough mana to completely detox anyways. Rob wastes no time looting the body, starting with his bones.

"What's up, Duchess."

[Thisss one "deprogrammed" the assassin and then inflicted an illusion. Thisss one managed to elicit an answer to a question.]

"Which is?"

[Thisss one asked if an affluent family was behind the assassination plot, particularly the one with the family name "Ken." The weak nod was his answer. Then thisss one asked if they were a part of said family. When they nodded no, thisss one asked if they came from a third party.]

"Uh-huh. What kind of illusion managed to get those answers."

[Thisss one used the fear of god.]