The fat old man did not move. He only slowly brushed his sleeves, then raised his head.
The fake, fearful, and subservient smile on his face disappeared completely.
"Hey." The fat old man said: "I have traded fabric on the East street for twenty-two years. I paid enough taxes to the City Lord's mansion every year, even paying extra. I bought people with papers, with witnesses, with money handed directly. That is legal according to the law of the Church of Light. This law has been practiced in this city for three hundred years. As for what you just read, that Constitution whatever, I honestly ask, who promulgated it?"
"The Lyra City Hall promulgated it."
"The City Hall." The fat old man smirked. "The City Hall stationed inside the branch headquarters? The place that hung two White-Robed Cardinals in the middle of the square last month? I only see a bunch of people popping out from nowhere, occupying someone else's house, then writing laws for themselves. That bunch is..."
