Despite years of practicing law and a near-perfect rate of acquittal, you are treated as a rank amateur and fool by everyone you meet.
It may be the future, but you’re not sure.
You live in LA. You are an American lawyer with a Western name. Your next case involves a murdered rakugo storyteller killed by a kamikaze pilot using a katana on the orders of the yakuza. The prosecutor is a samurai.
Your companion is an unflaggingly optimistic teenage girl with magic powers or a super science gadget. She will systematically destroy your self esteem, apparently for no reason.
You have conclusively proved the innocence of your client and demonstrated the guilt of the true perpetrator. There is a tiny, minor, unresolved question regarding how the culprit framed your client that you cannot answer at this time. The judge sentences your client to death.
The clown is not as friendly as he initially appeared.
No one knows what a badger is, or what they look like.
A witness has lied under oath for the seventh time, with no repercussion. Your faith in the law remains unwavering.
The prosecutor brutally assaults you in the courtroom, under the very gaze of the judge, with no repercussion. Your faith in the law remains unwavering.
The detective informs you that the evidence you uncovered relates to “The Incident”.
There is a statue with a sharp edge. It has killed before. It shall kill again.
Two characters have names that are anagrams of each other. This shall prove significant.
Your best friend is on trial for murder for the fifth time.
The prosecutor is a study in red velvet magnificence. He fixes you with his cold, icy aristocratic gaze and all your flaws bloom brightly beneath it. He finds you wanting. You will prove yourself to him.
The judge is aghast. He asks if you mean what he thinks you mean. You do.
The detective agrees to let you examine the crime scene, just this once.
A seemingly benign witness has shown a glimpse of a more sinister character animation. They did it.
Twins.
The victim was not killed where the body was found.
Ghosts are real and everyone real chill about that.
You have yelled “Objection!” but, if you’re honest, nothing especially out of order has been said.
Just as all seems lost, the prosecutor realises that your client is innocent and he turns on the true culprit. As the music rises triumphantly you and he launch accusation after accusation at the helpless victim, tearing his lies apart with raw animal passion, both working together in perfect unison. Your eyes meet across the courtroom. You have proven yourself to him. He is yours now. And you are his. This is the greatest moment of your life.
You’re constantly wondering how old the judge is and if he’s gone senile yet. You’re convinced he is, though.
Your houseplant is your superior in your office and deserves pampering. If he turns yellow, you’re doing it wrong.
If someone’s parent show up while you’re on a case, chances are they’ll end up dead or in a coma and forget everything until just the right moment, or is just straight up a terrible person.
Your hairstyle is just a little bit on the unusual side and everyone decides to not only point it out, but repeatedly make fun of it. You decide to change it later but you never do.
Any pet that decides to show up ends up becoming a significant plot device.
You often feel like it’s the defense who is being prosecuted, rather than the defendant… unless you’re both.
You know what contradiction to point out, but you can’t find the right piece of evidence until you’ve saved and reloaded multiple times. Then you act like you knew the answer all along.
Every time you recruit someone into your lawyer clan, they must have a new gimmick. That being said, the prosecutors seem to follow suit…
After a good trial, you and your buddies all go out for burger ramen.
after a good trial
you and your buddies all go out
for burger ramen
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