**Part 1: The Lion’s Den**
The air in Regional Trial Court Branch 10 was heavy, thick with the heat of the tropics and the impatience of Judge Arturo Villaraza, a magistrate known for his severity and bias toward the powerful. On the defendant’s bench sat Tatay Lando, a 70-year-old farmer, trembling and weeping. He was accused of Qualified Theft by his influential former employer, Don Enrico, a haciendero whose true goal was to seize the old man’s land. No lawyer dared touch the case, and the public attorney had conveniently called in sick, leaving Tatay Lando defenseless.
The prosecutor, Attorney Gocheco, smirked, confident they would railroad the old man. Judge Villaraza slammed his gavel. “Mr. Rolando Santos,” he called out, irritation thick in his voice. “Your counsel is absent. The evidence is overwhelming. I ask you one last time: Will you confess to the crime to reduce your sentence, or shall we proceed, and you will rot in jail?”
Tatay Lando sobbed, “Your Honor, I am innocent! I did not steal! Please, I have no lawyer, help me!”
The Judge rolled his eyes. “I have no time for theater. If you have no counsel, I shall pass sentence based on the prosecution’s evidence!”
**Part 2: The Unlikely Savior**
As the Judge prepared to deliver the verdict, the courtroom doors burst open. “OBJECTION, YOUR HONOR!” A shout echoed from the entrance.
Everyone turned, expecting a seasoned veteran in an expensive suit. Instead, they saw a young man—perhaps in his early twenties—wearing a simple white t-shirt, faded jeans, and scuffed rubber shoes. He looked like a student fresh off the street.
Laughter erupted in the gallery. Judge Villaraza’s face turned crimson with fury at the audacity. “Who are you?! What right do you have to yell in my court?!” he bellowed. “Guard! Remove this boy! This is not a playground! We are trying a criminal here!”
The young man walked calmly to the center, standing beside the terrified Tatay Lando. He faced the Judge, his eyes sharp with unflinching confidence.
“Your Honor, I am entering my appearance as the counsel for the accused, Mr. Rolando Santos,” the youth stated.
The laughter died down, replaced by skepticism. “You? Counsel? Are you joking, young man? Are you a law student practicing for a mock trial? Don’t waste my time. Get out before I hold you in contempt of court!”
The young man didn’t flinch. He produced an ID and his Roll of Attorneys number. “Atty. Miguel Crisostomo. You may check my credentials right now.”
**Part 3: The Star Witness Crumbles**
Reluctantly, the Judge verified the name. The clerk returned with wide eyes: the young man was real. The trial began.
Attorney Gocheco presented their “star witness,” the caretaker, who testified he saw Tatay Lando leaving the warehouse with the stolen goods on the night of June 12th.
Miguel rose, holding only a small notebook. “Mr. Witness, you stated you saw my client on June 12th at 10 PM. You also stated in your sworn statement that you identified him ‘by the light of the moon.’ Is that correct?”
“Yes, Attorney,” the witness replied confidently.
“Then tell me, Mr. Witness,” Miguel challenged, his voice rising, “According to the PAGASA report, our province was under Typhoon Signal Number 2 that night. The entire barangay was without power. It was raining heavily. How exactly did you see my client *by the light of the moon* when there was a storm?”
The courtroom stirred. The witness paled, looking frantically at Gocheco, who stammered an objection. The Judge overruled him.
“Furthermore,” Miguel pressed on, producing a medical document from his backpack, “you claimed you recognized him by his distinct, limping gait. Yet, this medical certificate states that one week before the alleged theft, my client was confined due to a mild stroke, resulting in the temporary paralysis of half his body. He couldn’t even stand, let alone carry heavy equipment! Your entire testimony is a fabrication!”
**Part 4: The Revelation**
Miguel turned to the Judge. “Your Honor, this is a clear case of harassment. I move for immediate dismissal.”
Judge Villaraza, his pride wounded, tried to salvage the prosecution. “Denied! I need more testimony!”
Miguel’s demeanor shifted. His tone became deadly serious. “Your Honor, if you deny this motion despite the perjured testimony and lack of probable cause, you violate the Canon of Judicial Conduct. And lest you forget, I am Miguel Crisostomo.”
“So what if you are Miguel Crisostomo?!” the Judge yelled.
“I am Miguel Crisostomo,” the young man repeated, “The **Topnotcher of last year’s Bar Examinations**. And the current Junior Partner at Solis & Associates, the law firm handling the administrative case against you in the Supreme Court regarding bribery and corruption.”
The court fell silent. Judge Villaraza froze, his face draining of color. The young man they had all mocked for his casual attire was the legal genius whose firm was actively working to have him disbarred. Miguel had deliberately dressed simply to expose the court’s prejudice.
“If you proceed with this sham trial,” Miguel stated, “I will personally add this incident to your administrative case and ensure your immediate disbarment.”
The Judge, his arrogance replaced by terror, stammered out the verdict: “Case dismissed due to insufficiency of evidence. The accused is free to go.”
Tatay Lando embraced Miguel, weeping tears of relief. The courtroom erupted in cheers. Miguel, the “Wunderkind” in a t-shirt, had defended the poor man and exposed the corrupt system. Justice, he reminded the reporters later, is blind to wealth, but sees the trust