Chapter Four: Gunshots in the Courtroom

The soldiers of the Third Battalion had long been prepared. Those who could still move had already gathered outside the courtroom of their own accord when Mulan was summoned for interrogation. While the court deliberated on Mulan’s request, nearly seventy soldiers assembled outside.

It was immediately evident that the spirit and bearing of these soldiers differed greatly from the military police and security guards outside, many of whom had never seen battle. Dozens appeared together, and even without their weapons, the fierce determination in their eyes unsettled the security detail. Fortunately, they simply stood there, making no aggressive moves.

Soon, after a brief discussion among the judges and some members of the tribunal, Mulan’s request was granted. One by one, wounded soldiers from the Third Battalion entered the courtroom, displaying their wounds with the help of doctors and nurses, and recounting their harrowing experiences as soldiers. The “fight to the death” endured by the Second Corps’ Third Battalion began to take shape in the minds of all present.

It was not merely a battle for victory, but a battle for survival. In the end, only seventy-seven soldiers survived.

When the last wounded soldier was escorted out, Mulan remained alone as the defendant, watching the court’s proceedings. Many whispered among themselves, others kept silent, and unease crept across the faces of several.

“Lieutenant Jonster, your wounds and testimony are moving, but for a depleted battalion to withstand and withdraw from an enemy several times your number seems exaggerated,” a prosecuting officer remarked. Mulan met his gaze without expression. He had anticipated such doubt and could offer no compelling rebuttal, so he ignored it.

But then another voice rose from the audience.

“I’ve heard the soldiers say Lieutenant Jonster is a remarkable marksman. Would you mind demonstrating?”

Mulan turned toward the source—a tall man seated near the front edge. He wore a sharp black suit, a tall hat, polished shoes, white shirt, black bow tie, white gloves, and carried a cane. His features were striking, his demeanor calm.

Such a presence should have stood out, yet Mulan felt as though he had only just noticed him. Regaining his composure, Mulan answered, “I am currently under trial.”

“Your Honor, I would like to see this lieutenant’s marksmanship, so we can judge the truth of his valor,” the man requested, not waiting for a reply.

“Lieutenant Jonster, if you don’t have a firearm, you may borrow one here,” he continued.

Mulan felt a chill. “You mean, fire a gun here?”

The man smiled. “It seems you do carry a weapon, likely in the nurse’s leather bag.”

Mulan instinctively glanced at the bag, suddenly aware of the silence in the courtroom. He looked at the judge and others; some watched the gentleman, some whispered, some sorted papers, but all voices seemed distant.

Before Mulan could think further, the gentleman reached into his pocket, tossing three glinting silver coins skyward.

“Fire!” the man commanded, his voice authoritative.

Mulan’s instincts overtook reason. In a flash, he reached for the nurse’s waist, drew the revolver from the bag, and fired.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The gunshots thundered in the enclosed space, mingling with the crisp sound of bullets striking the three coins.

The shots were so sudden that the judge ducked behind the bench, others shrank into their seats, and many soldiers only just reached for their sidearms. On the floor before the bench, a twisted coin spun and slowly toppled.

With the echo lingering, Mulan returned the gun to the bag. Three military police pointed their weapons at him, faces tense, but the hall remained frozen.

Clap, clap, clap...

“I expected you to hit one at best—splendid marksmanship!” the gentleman applauded, then turned to the front.

“Your Honor, let’s proceed,” he said lightly.

But the fact that the defendant had brought a firearm and discharged it in court caused an uproar.

“Your Honor, Lieutenant Jonster entered the court armed and fired his weapon, contempt of court!”

“Where were the military police? Why wasn’t the defendant disarmed?”

“Lieutenant Jonster, who gave you permission to fire in court?”

A barrage of angry questions disrupted the solemn proceedings. Mulan watched the gentleman, who sat unconcerned, seemingly unnoticed by those around him, which struck Mulan as both bizarre and frustrating—was he being toyed with?

The gavel thundered as the judge struck it sharply, his words stern.

“Lieutenant Jonster, you entered court armed and fired your weapon, a grave contempt for the military tribunal. Please put on the handcuffs and prepare for deliberation.”

Things had gone awry.

Mulan cast another glance at the gentleman, suspecting he was someone extraordinary and hoping this was not a mere prank.

...

The commotion subsided, and Mulan’s wounds were re-bandaged by the nurse and doctor. He now sat in a chair, wrists cuffed. After those dazzling three shots, none in the hall would underestimate him.

The agitation within the courtroom mirrored Mulan’s own inner turmoil. His private bag was temporarily confiscated, and after a long wait...

The judge tapped the gavel, restoring order. On his desk lay a slip of paper, evidently the verdict.

The elderly judge regarded Mulan for a long moment, holding genuine respect for the brave lieutenant, though reality was neither black nor white.

After a brief silence, the judge began to read.

“The defense of the Second Corps’ Third Battalion failed, for which it bears inescapable responsibility...”

At these words, many officers rose, some breathed a sigh of relief. Mulan felt tension but did not panic, waiting for the judge’s next statement.

The judge glanced at the wounded lieutenant, whose face remained solemn and unmoved.

“However, after review, the Third Battalion fought valiantly. Given the overall misjudgment of the situation and the enormous disparity in strength between the opposing forces, the responsibility of the Third Battalion and its commander, Lieutenant Jonster, may be reduced...”

He paused and delivered the final verdict.

“This court hereby declares: the Third Battalion is stripped of its honor for this battle, the battalion is disbanded and reassigned to other units, Lieutenant Jonster is relieved of his command, and his rank is reduced to private.”

The judge finished reading. Mulan remained motionless, while the courtroom buzzed.

Then Mulan slowly stood, his raspy voice rising above the noise.

“Your Honor, I accept the verdict and will not appeal. My term of service is complete, my health is poor—I hereby request retirement.”

Applying for retirement in court was unorthodox, but the military court of Dierja could order a defendant’s discharge. With Mulan’s proactive request and the presence of the military authorities, acceptance would expedite the process.

The courtroom quieted, then grew lively. Some felt relieved, others conflicted. Mulan himself was among the relieved, and his timely request would likely be granted, with the “plaintiffs” happy to oblige.

Indeed, after a pause, the judge nodded.

“Lieutenant Jonster’s request is granted.”

...

The military trial was over. Mulan held an envelope issued by the court as he was carefully helped onto a stretcher. He no longer needed to suffer. His gaze swept the audience; the gentleman in black stood and doffed his hat in salute.

As Mulan’s stretcher exited, the courtroom gradually emptied.

The outcome of the trial caused little stir, barely a small mention in the local papers, but for Mulan, it was a significant hurdle overcome.

His retirement was quickly approved, but with serious wounds, Mulan needed time to recover before boarding a ship home. During his convalescence, he made a peculiar discovery about himself.

Twenty days after the trial, his wounds healed at a pace beyond normal, allowing him to move freely, though his left arm remained bandaged. He noticed that his injured left arm seemed stronger than his right, and his memory suggested Mulan Jonster had not been left-handed.

This world felt strangely familiar, sometimes making Mulan wonder if it was a parallel Earth. Yet differences outnumbered similarities.

The memories of his body were scattered, but Mulan hoped to survive, to understand this world, and, if possible, to return to a home with internet and games.

The trial took place in early October, called the Month of Golden Leaves or the Month of Silence in ancient times. By month’s end, Mulan was finally ready to depart.

Inside his tent, Mulan packed his belongings—a suitcase and the yellow leather bag. A ticket rested on the bag, inscribed with “Princess Nisheriel.” Departure was at one o’clock in the afternoon.

Outside, he heard horses and wheels, then a voice: “Mulan, are you ready?”

“All packed,” Mulan replied. A military officer entered—the warrant officer of the military police, who had visited Mulan most often after the Third Battalion was reassigned.

Without a word, the warrant officer picked up Mulan’s suitcase, while Mulan himself slung the leather bag and followed.

Mulan wore a shirt beneath, his left arm still supported by bandages, a black overcoat draped over his shoulders, a black hat upon his head. His brown hair was neatly styled, his beard freshly shaven, his bright black eyes lively, and his frame was tall and lean—perhaps thinner from injury, but strikingly handsome.

Outside, the carriage was just like the one that took him to trial a month before, but this time, Mulan felt far more at ease. After bidding farewell to the doctor and nurse who had cared for him, he boarded the carriage with the warrant officer.

Dia Port was a deep-water harbor, about thirty to sixty minutes by carriage from the camp.

As they drew closer, the roads grew busier, filled with carriages and rickshaws, while on the other side, a steam locomotive loaded cargo.

Seeing the train, Mulan was reminded of the bustling twenty-first-century cities—and of the terrifying steam tanks on the battlefield.

“Mulan, we’re here.”

Mulan’s gaze shifted from the carriage window to the warrant officer, then to the opposite window. They were beside the port, where a towering steamship lay moored, its three massive smokestacks venting steam.

After stepping off the carriage, Mulan turned to the warrant officer with a sincere smile.

“Thank you, Brook. And… I’m sorry.”

“No need for thanks or apologies. I believe you are a hero. It’s an honor to be your friend!”

Mulan said nothing more, embracing Brook and patting his shoulder. This young warrant officer had his own dreams of heroism, but Mulan hoped he would never witness the true horrors of war—he himself never wished to see them again.

When Brook offered to carry his suitcase, Mulan refused, lifting it himself.

“I’m not so weak anymore, Brook. Don’t worry—I’ll make it home safe!”

Brook smiled and saluted; Mulan Jonster’s physical strength was remarkable.

“May your journey be safe. Until we meet again!”

“Goodbye!”

As Brook’s carriage departed, Mulan took up his suitcase and walked toward the embarkation point.

The port was not only host to passenger ships, but also warships—some clad in iron, some still wooden, and some steam-powered steel vessels whose massive gun barrels left no doubt of their power.

After presenting his ticket, Mulan boarded the Princess Nisheriel. It was not a luxurious liner, but its size and affordable fare attracted a diverse crowd of passengers and accommodated cargo as well.

Mulan’s attire was relatively refined, so the crew treated him with courtesy. He had a private cabin—small, but private.

Yet he did not hurry inside. Instead, after boarding, he set his suitcase beside him and stood at the rail, gazing down at the port and out over the sea.

Crowds bustled across the busy docks, loading and unloading, boarding and disembarking.

A resonant blast from the ship’s horn echoed—Princess Nisheriel was about to depart.

Mulan looked down at his leather bag, where his revolver lay quietly, waiting for its master to draw it. And its master, for his new life, was filled with both anxiety and anticipation.

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PS: The contract status hasn’t been updated yet, so there’s only this single chapter for now!