Today is the Judgment day, Thursday October 9th, 2025 and James Stark's fate hangs on a balance. It's 11:00am and the rays of the late morning sun was hitting down, could it be rays of hope or the last day he will see sunlight? Only time will tell.
The courtroom was is packed once again.
Reporters all ready to carry the big news, And Most locals in attendance are murmuring quietly into their phones. The cops looking sharp and ready for any unforseen that may come up. It is one of the deadliest gang members against themselves, maybe this will be the beginning of peace or darkness unleashed.
James Stark sat at the defense table, dressed in his suit, Calm on the outside but his heart still pounds. He is hoping for the best even though he knew he could get the worst.
No cuffs today.
But still… not free.
At least not at the moment.
Across the aisle, the prosecutor's team sat almost motionless, armed with folders but now lacking in confidence.
Beside James, Thomas Marshall keep adjusted and looking at his wrist watch. He hadn't slept much the night before, and his tired eyes was quite glaring. But his voice when he spoke, stayed sharp.
"Are you ready?" he asked quietly.
James didn't look at him, he just answered with a nod and said "Ready as i can possibly be."
Marshall drew closer, "You remember what i told you the last time, no matter what the verdict is we dealt them with a huge blow they can't recover from."
James finally turned to face him, "But that doesn't buy me freedom does it?"
"No," Marshall said. "But it buys hope, That's more than you had when this trial started."
The door swung open. Everyone stood.
The judge entered.
Hon. Justice Martin Tyler, firm and bold. He had presided over cartel cases, gang conspiracies, and high profile robbery and fraud cases. Known not to smile unless someone truly earned it.
He didn't smile today and he wasn't frowning either.. just a straight calm and focused face.
"Be seated," he said with a clear voice.
Everyone sat.
He flipped open his notes, took a long pause, then began.
"This case has been one of the most layered and controversial proceedings I've ever presided over. What began as a straightforward investigation into illegal possession of firearms, gangsterism and drug smuggling charges quickly evolved into a trial of public perception, filled organized deception, and digital manipulation."
The room was dead silent.
He looked directly at James.
"Mr. James Stark, over the past three months, you have been portrayed as a criminal mastermind, A dangerous street boss, A manipulator of men.
But you have also, in equal measure, been proven to be a victim of coordinated framing and false evidence."
At that particular moment it was "All eyes on James."
Almost all heads turned towards him with very keen ears.
Judge Tyler continued.
"Evidence presented during this trial particularly the second drive submitted by the defense brought to light a targeted attempt to pin multiple high level charges against you. The court has reviewed the data thoroughly and a forensic analysis conducted confirmed that the original drive, submitted by Ms. Xin Yi to the LAPD, was indeed tampered with."
Tame voices of gasps and murmurings echoed in the room.
"In light of this, the court acknowledges that the conspiracy to frame you was real, organized, and deeply rooted in individuals who are now facing their own legal consequences including Mr. Malik Robson Stark and Ms. Xin Yi."
James was still, showing no emotion aside his heart jumping up and down beneath his suit.
The judge turned the page.
"However," he said, "this is not a novel. And this court does not pretend criminals only wear badges or sit behind keyboards."
At this point his gaze hardened.
"The fact remains that Mr. James Stark, illegal firearms were recovered from your penthouse including a loaded unregistered Glock and a modified AR-15. Additionally, 4.6 kilograms of fentanyl were found hidden in a safe, located on property registered under your name. Mind you, at no point did you report these items, nor could your defense prove, beyond every reasonable doubt, that the substances were planted."
Thomas Marshall exhaled slowly rolled his eyes towards James without turning his head.
James closed his eyes for a moment. Just a second.
Preparing his mind for anything that comes up now.
"Therefore," the judge continued, "in the matter of The State versus James Stark, this court finds the defendant…"
Another pause here.
And James heart pounding even more no matter how hard he tried to control it and stay calm.
"Not Guilty of conspiracy to distribute narcotics, bribery of public officials, attempted murder, organized racketeering, and first-degree murder."
Shock moved through the courtroom like electricity, most locals from midtown couldn't believe it but had never summoned the courage to testify for or against James or out of fear.
Yet a much louder murmurs.
Some were disappointed.
Some relieved.
Some just confused.
Judge Tyler's Sentence
Judge Tyler delivered the sentence calmly.
"Mr. James Stark, you are hereby sentenced to 42 months in federal custody with credit for the 3 months already served. Upon release, you will be placed under 24 months of supervised release. You are also fined $200,000 and barred from owning or operating any business entity linked to prior criminal investigations for a period of five years."
He looked directly at him again.
Lifting up his hand with the gavel on it.
"This is not a pardon, Mr. Stark. This is a second chance, you won't get a third."
And he went bang, the gavel dropped.
The judge left quietly.
Marshall slowly leaned back in his chair and let out a breath he'd been holding for three days.
James stayed still, Soaking in the moment.
There was chaos outside the courtroom,
Cheers and jeers was loud.
Flashes of cameras from reporters where all over the place.
"James Stark avoids life sentence!" "The Downtown Devils boss sentenced to 42 months, Is this justice?" "City reacts to shock twist in Downtown Devils case!"
Drake stood by the side entrance with his arms crossed, Jazmin beside him, Dean with his hoodie up and dark googles on.
When James stepped out, surrounded by marshals, he caught Drake's eyes for a split second.
No words exchanged, Just a nod, first from James and Drake returned it calmly.
They both understood.
That night inside the holding cell before transfer
James laid on a bench, staring at the concrete roof above.
Thomas Marshall appeared outside the bars,
"Are you alright?" he asked.
James sat down on the bench and nodded slowly. "I don't feel free."
"You're not, but you're alive and you're not buried. That's something."
James looked at him and said "Thank you." a bit nonchalantly.
Marshall nodded. "You gave me the truth, I just helped dig it out."
He started to walk off, then paused.
"Oh… and one more thing."
He pulled out a folded piece of paper from his suit pocket.
"It's from Jazmin."
James opened it. Inside was just one line, handwritten.
"That which does not kill us makes us stronger"
James folded the note carefully and tucked it into his jacket.
The Prison Bus Rolling Down
James stared out the window as he approaches into a new reality.
Every block. Every crack in the sidewalk.
He'd earned that view.
He didn't know if he'd come back to it.
Maybe he wouldn't.
Pablo, El-Chapo's younger brother is in that prison and the Devils just killed his nephew.
"Now there's no soldiers, no cartel, no friends
and whatever came next, is my cross to bear" he thought to himself
Meanwhile, Drake and Dean do not yet know where to turn to and how to rebuild.
Words are everywhere, newspapers, the local television stations and the radio stations. "The Death of the Devils"
"Justice at last"
"Shambolic judgment "
Different opinions
All that do not matter to them, what matters to them right now is how to stay alive.
With El-Chapo's Iron Teeth Cartel running rampage, with Malik now and enemy.
"The mission is now to survive, the next 39 months will be tough." Dean said
Drake nodding in agreement looked at him with a smile and replied him "yeah, but tough times don't last only tough people do."