Chapter 53
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The Judge III
Shin No-a
5
Before civilization fell, people used to say something half-jokingly.
"Sigh, hey, what kind of ruling is that?"
"Would be better to just leave it all to AI than what we have now!"
Of course, the other half of this statement contained a serious truth—that artificial intelligence made of steel and code would be more fair and impartial than Homo sapiens, who were prone to getting entangled in various interests.
Now that AI judges had debuted nationwide, one might cheer, "Wow! The era of law that will never make biased rulings!"
Naturally, worldly affairs never worked that easily.
[Verdict. The defendant is sentenced to life imprisonment.]
"What?"
"He killed a person but no death penalty?"
"Why exactly can't we kill criminals?"
People were baffled.
Since no update patches had been made after civilization's collapse, the AI judge's rulings were inevitably too bland for modern humanity that had adapted to the apocalypse.
[Verdict. The defendant is sentenced to three months imprisonment.]
"What?"
"He dared to touch someone else's property but no death penalty?"
"Why exactly can't we kill criminals?"
From the start, the 'imprisonment sentences' pronounced by AI judges were antiquated relics out of touch with the times.
Prisons? Where would such things exist?
Building walls that wouldn't easily collapse, installing iron bars, and even feeding and housing prisoners to keep them alive? Do guards' salaries fall from the sky for free?
Indeed, the AI judge was fair.
But that fairness was similar to God's fairness. It meant it was useless unless it descended into reality.
"Wait. Wouldn't about three months in prison be similar to losing a pinky finger?"
"Oh...."
Therefore, a professional occupation was inevitably needed to 'interpret' the 'word of God.'
What shamans did in ancient times, what priests did in the Middle Ages—the role was inherited by guild masters of each guild. Or their most trusted confidants.
A guild master who had achieved enough to control a city could naturally be evaluated as the human closest to God within that city.
"As expected of our guild master. Then what about six months imprisonment?"
"Hmm, that would be cutting the index finger. Of course, if the victim wishes, toes can be cut instead."
"What about a one-year sentence, guild master?"
"From that point, couldn't we just remove one hand or foot? Ah! But we shouldn't needlessly damage labor power, so 50-50... For example, the perpetrator's 3 fingers, the perpetrator's family members' 2 fingers, let's go with a penalty system of 5 fingers total like that."
"Oh...."
"As expected of our guild master."
If prisons were antiques, then collective punishment was an item that every successful guild these days wanted to have.
"What if all their fingers and toes get cut off?"
"Then kill them. Fuck. If they can't play the game even with 20 life points given, that just means they're not compatible with the game."
"That makes sense."
"Of course. Besides, if there's no friend or relative willing to lose a finger in place of the criminal, then killing them wouldn't make anyone sad anyway. Kill them all."
"Ah...."
The above dialogue was an edited compilation for readability of what a certain guild master in Incheon had said.
The 'shamans" interpretations varied wildly from city to city. Some cities, like Incheon, cleanly converted all life stats into fingers and toes, while others interpreted a six-month imprisonment sentence as a six-month slavery sentence, where the perpetrator would become the victim's slave for that duration.
But precisely because of this, guild masters welcomed the AI judge.
"This isn't bad."
Dang Seo-rin lightly tapped the AI judge's head.
"Rather than saying I made the ruling alone from start to finish, saying that someone already fair made the judgment and I merely added interpretation to it—from a guild master's perspective, that's much more comfortable."
"Hmm."
"The verdict itself isn't wrong. It's just that applying it to reality. In other words, there are merely insufficient parts in the interpretation. Then even if some slight mistakes occur, the guild master's face is relatively less damaged. Ah. Perhaps this principle was also one of the reasons why ancient rulers were also priests."
Her words carried different weight, befitting a guild master who ruled the most prosperous city on the Korean Peninsula.
Dang Seo-rin herself only threw the AI judge to ordinary citizens and didn't use it to make rulings herself.
That wasn't only because Dang Seo-rin considered 'bearing responsibilities that don't need to be borne' as a mark of a leader.
Dang Seo-rin was a mage who called herself a great witch, and her method of ruling Busan was also unique... hmm. If one had to express it, it was very 'witch-like.' In the Busan she ruled, a system called 'witch trials' operated separately.
But since today's protagonist isn't the Dang family, let's mention that another time.
In truth, I wasn't particularly active or serious about introducing the AI judge. I was merely surprised by No Do-ha's bouncing ideas.
As pointed out above, the AI judge's rulings were nothing more than words of Confucius and Mencius too distant from reality.
I, the undertaker, had an ambition. An ambition to someday create a proper legal system suited to the apocalypse. From my perspective, the AI judge was merely a novel invention, a defective product far below the standards of a regressor's eye.
But right at this point—in other words, the 'drawback of being too distant from reality'—actually resonated not only with guild masters but also with ordinary people.
"Why don't you sentence the death penalty?"
[Answer initiating. In modern jurisprudence and legal philosophy, discussions on the death penalty can be considered from various perspectives. Among them, the most valid logic is that the government can never decide on citizens' right to life. Citizens transfer some of their rights to the government through social contract, but regarding the dignity of life, only the citizen themselves maintains exclusive rights. The government is not a natural person but an artificial body of consensus, close to a program, and therefore cannot make independent judgments on matters not input into it.]
"Hmm... so?"
[Lowering explanation intellectual level by 2 stages. Answer changing. The government is not perfect. The government can also make mistakes at any time due to incompetent judges, malicious evidence tampering, or forces plotting politically motivated judicial murders. Therefore, it is wise to fundamentally block the annihilation of life itself, which 'makes mistakes irreversible.']
"Oh... so?"
[Lowering explanation intellectual level by 6 stages. Answer changing. Let's just value life.]
As expected, the AI judge refused to carry out death sentences, just as it had declared.
"A serial killer who randomly hacked two-year-old children to death for no reason."
"I can sentence death, but in reality, I do not execute it."
"A spy and terrorist who bombed public facilities, killing three thousand people!"
"I can sentence death, but in reality, I do not execute it."
"Hitler!"
"I can sentence death, but in reality, I do not execute it."
"Fuck, won't kill even with this? Even with this?"
As events flowed this way, the citizens of Busan (Dang Seo-rin had placed the judge NPC in the middle of a plaza, telling ordinary people to play with it) lost all comprehension. No, exactly how far do you have to go to give a death sentence?
"...Really ridiculous. Just slit the throat and they die simply, why make such a fuss about not killing?"
"Hmm. But thinking about it, before the world turned into this mess, it was like this. Even people who deserved to die didn't die and just ate bean rice in prison."
"Right. It was like that. In the old days."
"How did it change like this?"
"...."
"...."
People of the apocalypse all longed for the past.
Survivors who had run desperately without even time to look back and barely survived realized how far they had fled while listening to the AI judge's rulings.
Yes. The world had changed. They themselves had changed.
Having only briefly caught their breath now, the possibility of humans completely conquering the void and rebuilding civilization seemed remote. Everyone in this era knew they were merely in the twilight years of humanity facing extinction.
Nostalgia for a hometown they could never return to.
That was why the way people in this era spent their leisure time (when such luxury miraculously occurred) was gathering in guild buildings and watching 'movies from the previous era' on large TVs.
No matter how boring the movie, it didn't matter.
"Wow, the asphalt road is clean!"
"Cars are driving around!"
"Crazy. They're drinking coffee like water."
"Why don't they kill someone after getting shoulder-bumped?"
Videos from the old era were a means to briefly remind people of humanity's glorious past.
This showed in how they watched TV. They didn't sit neatly in proper posture watching the screen. They just gathered among themselves cracking peanut shells, glancing sideways, talking loudly about 'rare objects in the video.'
"Hot water comes out right at home? Purified water too, just press a button? Wow...."
"But why do they all look so dissatisfied? It's literally heaven."
"Anyway, their bellies were too full. Those things need to have their head skins peeled off by monsters to mature a bit. Hey, this won't crack easily. Pass the hammer."
This was roughly the self-portrait of modern times.
Therefore, the AI judge's 'unrealistic rulings' were initially treated as a kind of toy, but as time passed, they began to hold a different color.
[Verdict. Defendant B must pay Plaintiff A 1 million won in damages.]
"Really? Wait a moment. I'll prepare it within a week."
"Huh?"
Some people accepted the AI's rulings as they were.
In this world, money was closer to a talisman than currency. A talisman that reminded them of the time when they were still members of civilized society.
Gathering '1 million won' worth of such talismans was extremely difficult.
But one citizen ultimately scraped together 50,000 won, 10,000 won, 5,000 won, and 1,000 won bills and actually handed 1 million won to the defendant.
"Now we're good, right?"
"Uh, uhuh...."
"Right. Sorry for interfering with your business. With this, the matter between us is settled."
Surprisingly, one citizen's apology was accepted.
Money that had no meaning other than as a talisman, that couldn't be exchanged for other things—in other words, money that had completely lost its value as currency—was acknowledged as payment for wrongdoing.
With this chance event, gradually more citizens began voluntarily following the AI's rulings.
Of course, citizens didn't rely on the AI judge even for incidents involving actual injury or threat to life.
But for light incidents, matters not worth killing each other over, people willingly obeyed 'rulings from the distant past'—justice from when the world was still intact.
"Here's 3 million won."
"Let's get along better from now on."
No matter how newly issued, bills over 10 years old, crumpled papers covered in fingerprints—people exchanged them with great care.
Watching from afar, it was less like legal execution and more like some religious ritual.
A rite desperately proving and mutually certifying the fact that they were once members of a now-extinct world.
A verification procedure of community proving they all belonged to the same society.
How should I put it. Usually when apocalypse arrives, currency instantly gets treated as trash, but reality was quite different from the contents of such works.
"...I really didn't expect this."
I felt somewhat psychologically hit.
But it wasn't a bad feeling. Because I could confirm that no matter how broken the world became, most people still lived with nostalgia.
After the 109th iteration, I kept maintaining the 'AI judges.'
Even if it wasn't judicially helpful, if it could remind people living in this era of 'humanity' even a little, wouldn't that have its own meaning?
"Judge."
[Yes.]
"There's a certain infinite regressor, an old man who abandons his colleagues to flirt with his wife alone, continuously derelict in his duties. Because of him, the colleague left alone is working their bones off trying to save the world somehow. What ruling would suit such a shameless regressor?"
[Verdict. Not guilty.]
"...."
Humanity, my ass.
As expected, AI didn't understand the human heart.
- The Judge. End.
An infinite regressor telling a story