Damn, I recarneted As A Judge in Fantasy World

Although they were treated rather harshly, the Aramid Church did not react at all. It seemed like they were just going to pretend it never happened. Well, it would be much easier for them to save face that way.

"Tsk tsk. That's what those so-called priests think," I muttered to myself.

Of course, that wasn't the intention of the entire Aramid Order. It might have just been the misconduct of some priests, including Bishop Braulio. I can't find out the truth, but I decided to think of it that way. I feel more at ease if I just turn off my nerves.

"I'm so busy, why are they making such a fuss?" I sighed.

Due to the prophecy of Mount Mesqueta, territorial disputes have multiplied. Everyone returned to their own territories and made a fuss about clearly delineating the boundary lines.

'I'm not a surveyor or anything,' I thought, annoyed.

So, I was rejecting all non-serious matters while issuing strict warnings to each territory. Then, I noticed that the number of cases assigned to me was gradually decreasing.

"Phew! I can finally put my worries aside," I said to myself.

Actually, it wasn't that difficult. It's a difficult trial for ordinary judges, but I can just push through it like a bulldozer.

Moreover, because my reputation and trustworthiness were so high, agreements were usually reached. There were even marriages between two families that were in territorial disputes because I mediated them.

'Let's take a rest now,' I decided.

Since it was the weekend, I was planning to just sleep in. But that couldn't be done because there was a lot of pending business waiting for me.

"When on earth are you going to make my clothes?" Adam's words echoed out of nowhere in my mind.

In addition, Deacon Miller Xavier also issued a citation.

"Your Majesty, His Majesty the Emperor has sent word asking why there has been no news," he said.

"What news?" I asked, confused.

"You said you would give him a set of clothes, so why hasn't he received anything yet?"

"Oh, that's right," I replied, suddenly remembering.

Why on earth did I want to get into the fashion business or something?

'No, no,' I quickly corrected myself.

It was something that had to be done unconditionally. How long am I going to wear glittery costumes while passing judgments? Am I going to walk around in a fancy dress outfit with leggings?

"Then let's get started quickly," I said, determined.

"Don't forget to start with mine," Adam's voice reminded me.

"Okay, I got it," I muttered.

Of course, it would have been a mistake to start by fitting Adam's clothes first.

Even cold water has its order of precedence, and naturally, the emperor comes first. Just in case people start saying that I did it for my half-sama first, I don't want useless rumors to spread.

I went straight to Midias. The sheep and geese I had received from Count Coughlin were growing well. Even the ranch business was on track.

'The textile factory is also running smoothly,' I thought, pleased.

If we use worsted yarn produced there, we can make a decent suit.

"It's just starting to arrive in stock, so it hasn't been released on the market yet," one of the workers informed me.

"Well done. By the way, isn't there a tailor here named Martin?" I asked.

"Oh, I think I've heard that name before," he replied.

"Please call that person," I requested.

Martin had a skill called "designer." I guessed he could make exactly the style I wanted. Of course, he wouldn't be used to it yet, so he'd need to work on honing his skills.

'I could do it myself, but there's no sewing machine here,' I mused.

I don't know anything about traditional methods, either.

Soon, a young man came running out of breath.

* * *

Martin had been feeling very good lately.

At first, he worked undercover for the purpose of spying.

But the treatment of employees at Midias' factories was surprising—far better than what the dedicated tailors of ordinary nobles received.

His salary was beyond anything he could have earned with his limited experience, which only came from training. On top of that, he was provided with excellent accommodations and meals worth appreciating.

"Where on earth can you find a heaven like this?" Martin thought.

So, Martin decided to settle down at the Midias textile factory.

The promise he had made with Cosette, Count Asrenault's personal tailor, was completely forgotten. Even as an official disciple of that man, he would have been overworked and underpaid.

He much preferred working under the command of His Majesty, the Great and Benevolent Duke of Carriers.

Moreover, here he could develop his abilities to his heart's content. The tools were provided endlessly, and he could practice with leftover fabric as much as he pleased.

Although he had only been there for half a year, Martin's skills improved at an incredible rate.

"Wow! This is a total work of art. It's a masterpiece," Uncle Jamie on the next line exclaimed in admiration.

Martin readily handed over the stuffed animal he had been working on.

"Take it and give it to the kids as a gift."

"Is that okay? It seems really well made."

"Hey, I was just practicing," Martin said casually.

The stuffed animal looked like something a noble family's baby would cherish. Jamie smiled and pulled something out of his bag.

"This is a backpack I made. It's sturdy, so it'll be useful. Though, it doesn't look that great."

"Oh my, what are you talking about? You made it really well."

"It'll come in handy when the holidays come," Jamie added with a grin.

"Thank you," Martin replied.

The people he worked with were so kind that every day felt enjoyable.

Besides, the workload wasn't too demanding.

The factory had a strict schedule—50 minutes of work followed by a 10-minute break—which made things more manageable. Martin thought he could keep doing this job until he grew old and worn out.

One day, on his way back to his accommodations, someone approached him. It was Hans, the building manager.

"Mr. Martin, you have a guest," Hans informed him.

"Me?"

Martin asked, puzzled. In fact, he didn't know many people in the imperial capital. His home was in the County of Arsenault, quite far from here.

"Who could it be?"

"He didn't reveal his identity. But, considering he came all the way here, he doesn't seem like a strange person," Hans reassured him.

The Duchy of Carriers was heavily guarded, especially with the emperor's knights still stationed there.

So, Martin wasn't too worried and followed Hans toward the reception room at the hotel's entrance to meet the visitor. But as soon as he saw who was sitting there, a familiar sense of unease settled in.

"It's been a long time. It's already been half a year—why haven't you contacted me?" said Cosette, Count Asrenault's personal tailor.

And that's exactly why he had come.