Chapter 603 - Death Sentence and Repentance (1/2)
“Twelve… Twelve good people who are so different from you have put you on trial, saying you are guilty. Look at the crimes that you have committed. You…” The drunk sheriff on the wooden stand pointed at the man with his hands and ankles tied with a rope.
“You fought against a man for a horse, stabbed the owner with a knife, made a mother lose her son, a wife to lose her husband, and an innocent child to lose her father! Do you any last words?”
“Yes, I didn’t control my temper at the time. I killed him by mistake, and it got to where I am today. Now, it’s too late to say anything about it.” The shorty obviously knew that his death was imminent. He then took a deep breath and said, “I just hope I can apologize to the family of the man I killed. Although I know they won’t forgive me, so be it.”
After he spoke, he nodded at the sheriff and closed his mouth.
The next moment, a black cloth was put on his head.
Meanwhile, the drunk sheriff walked toward the other person, a strong-looking hunk of a man. When the sheriff saw him, undisguised disgust flashed across the sheriff’s eyes.
“You raped your sister-in-law when your brother was selling the cattle elsewhere. After you were exposed, you killed your brother. Such evil acts that happen on this land are blatant to the judicial system and human morality! I should have killed you when you attempted to run away. I shouldn’t have let you live for so many days and waste our food. Say your last words.”
“No, you’ve got the wrong man. You shouldn’t believe that (BEEP). It is not me who killed my brother! The adulterer is someone else! They’ve banded together and framed me! The moment my brother and I both die, the ranch will fell into the hands of that wh.o.r.e and her lover!”
Compared with the previous shorty, the second man’s emotions were obviously more aggressive. Yelling and struggling in panicked desperation, the executioner had to pat his back, signaling him to keep his voice down. The drunk sheriff snorted coldly, “Your trial is over, and the jury has decided. If you have any objections, you can tell your grievances to G.o.d directly when you see him. Oh… sorry, I almost forgot, an evil man like you can’t see G.o.d. Go to h.e.l.l, b.a.s.t.a.r.d, next one.”
Once again, the sheriff pulled out his bottle, took a sip of whiskey, and walked towards the one-armed man. “You…” The drunk sheriff was stuck after saying only one word. He then pointed at him, stared at him for some time before squeezing another word from his mouth, “What have you done?”
The man named Jameson standing under the wooden pedestal smacked his forehead, unable to bear the scene. At the same time, the crowd became increasingly agitated.
“Quiet and quiet!” the sheriff bellowed. He then took out a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket, unfolded it, and read it.
“Oh, d.a.m.n, you are from Cook’s gang. You’ve robbed the trains countless times and ransacked two towns, killing unarmed civilians. The laws you violated are enough to fill up a piece of paper. To be honest, sentencing you to death has to be too merciful. You should be glad you weren’t born in the Middle Ages. Otherwise, I would have nailed you to the wall and let you die slowly! Then, perhaps I can hear your wailing from below every day.”
The one-armed man was the calmest of the three. He shook his head when he heard that. “You are wrong,” he retorted boldly. “I have robbed trains and caravans, but that was before I lost my arm. After that, I left the Cook Gang and decided to reside here. Town looting has nothing to do with me.” “It doesn’t matter. Anyway, the deeds you have done are enough for you to be sentenced to death,” the sheriff barked impatiently, “If you want to confess, hurry up! I’m about to finish my whiskey.”