The Judge Hits Back
For a moment, the courtroom was swallowed by a bomb-thrower’s blast, and friend and foe alike became impossible to tell apart.
The judge had insulted the bench.
And the claim that someone among the plaintiff and defendant had committed corruption had been dropped just before the close of the pretrial preparation hearing.
Was this why they made me sit in on the hearing?
But then.
Yang Seungnam, apparently without a shred of tact, grinned at the judge.
“Or are you trying to put some discipline back into the courtroom for the pleading date? Maybe you’re looking to get a grip on this lax legal profession?”
He clicked his tongue as if he’d known the judge for years and still couldn’t understand his mind, and the judge responded by yanking out the microphone cord altogether.
Even so, the courtroom was small enough that everything said from the bench still carried clearly.
“Judge Yang Seungnam. Please observe proper courtroom etiquette.”
“Am I the first person to say this? The courtroom’s so stiff, I was just trying to crack a joke. Look at the gallery. It feels like I’m suffocating in here.”
Looking thoroughly fed up, the judge ignored him.
“With that, the pretrial preparation hearing is concluded. The pleading hearing will be held on July 1, 2024, at 2:00 p.m. in Courtroom 414.”
Yu I-hwan and the rest of Yuria’s legal team walked out of the courtroom with dazed expressions.
“In all my life, that was the first time I’ve seen a senior judge get roasted by another judge. And not even in private, but in open court,” Kim Seong-woo said.
The others nodded in agreement.
“But isn’t what Senior Yang said pretty unsettling? ‘Trying to get a piece of the action’... That leaves only the defendant, doesn’t it?”
“……”
Looks like that chairman really did get involved.
While I resolved to file a motion to recuse the judge by any means necessary, Team Leader Yu clapped his hands.
“First, let’s update President Han, then get everything ready for the pleading hearing.”
“Yes, and if anything comes up, Attorney Cha will handle it.”
“I’ll do my best.”
I was going to win even if I had to pour money into it.
“Team Leader, let’s have dinner first to lift morale before we head back. There’s a place next to the Western District Court that does excellent mushroom chicken soup.”
Attorney Byeon patted his stomach, and then Team Leader Yu pulled out a black card from his wallet.
“President Han already said to eat dinner and go straight home. Attorney Cha, come with us too.”
Dinner was secured.
July 1.
The pleading hearing.
Finally, it was my turn to work.
I was seated at the attorneys’ table, rechecking the written submissions.
Then someone tapped my shoulder.
It was Team Leader Yu.
“Attorney Cha, do you think the associate judge will be changed?”
“He caused a scene in court. I’d expect a reassignment.”
When I checked the basic case information, the civil division was listed as “(me),” which meant I’d already confirmed the presiding judge was the left-seat judge.
But there was no way to know who would sit in the right seat.
“Hoo. For now, please respond well to any sudden developments. If something seems off, you can always pass on it.”
“Understood.”
Thud.
“The trial is beginning. Everyone in the courtroom, please turn off your smartphones and remain quiet during the proceedings.”
The moment the bailiff finished speaking, the bench entered.
“...Damn it.”
“……”
As if to spite expectations, Yang Seungnam was once again sitting in the right seat that day.
The judge frowned as he watched him enter with a grin that never left his face.
I hope this ends without incident.
The judge standing at the bench greeted the court.
“From this moment, the Seoul Western District Court Civil Division 14 will begin its hearing in Case No. 2024Gahap91234, a suit for defamation and damages.”
Seated now, the judge looked up.
“I will confirm appearances. Has counsel for the plaintiff appeared?”
“Yes. I am Attorney Cha Do-hyuk, counsel for the plaintiff.”
Yu I-hwan, Kim Seong-woo, and Attorney Byeon Sang-min also announced their appearances.
“Has counsel for the defendant appeared?”
“Yes. I am Attorney Lee Ju-heon, counsel for the defendant.”
The judge then flipped through the papers.
So the witness examination is about to begin.
“Very well. Then I will call the plaintiff’s witnesses first. Are witnesses Kim Yo-gi and Na Min-young present?”
“Kim Yo-gi, present!”
“Na Min-young is in Indonesia and has informed the court of her inability to attend.”
Because we had submitted a written statement explaining Na Min-young’s absence before the hearing, the judge seemed to have called her name merely to confirm it.
“You also requested an additional cross-examination of the defendant.”
“Yes.”
“If necessary, I will allow confrontation questioning. We will begin witness examination with Kim Yo-gi. Any objection from either side?”
“None.”
The judge fixed his gaze on Kim Yo-gi.
“The witness must not testify by referring to the written statement, and both counsel are to examine the witness according to the submitted lines of questioning. I will state in advance that questions outside those materials will be limited.”
“Understood.”
Unlike at the pretrial preparation hearing, the judge was being extremely rigid.
That was not a good sign.
I couldn’t change the direction of the examination we had prepared on the spot.
Doing so would only confuse Kim Yo-gi.
We’ll stick to the plan. That’s the only way.
The judge asked for Kim Yo-gi’s address and resident registration number.
He read out the oath, and she signed and stamped it below.
Finally, the bailiff collected the oath form.
“For the sake of fairness, while the plaintiff’s witness is being examined, the defendant’s witness will step outside the courtroom for a moment.”
Labor consultant Gi Do-seop picked up his bag and went out.
“Counsel for the plaintiff, please begin questioning witness Kim Yo-gi.”
“Yes.”
We exchanged a very brief look in front of the witness stand.
I sent Kim Yo-gi, who was tense, a look that told her to stay calm.
She nodded and sat up straight with a determined posture.
That should be enough. Time to begin.
“Witness, do you work at Yuria Entertainment?”
“Yes, I work in the event planning team.”
“Since when have you been employed there?”
“I was hired as a full-time employee in February 2020, so I’m in my fifth year now.”
“People say turnover is high in entertainment companies. Why have you stayed at Yuria?”
In the entertainment industry, where newcomers bolted for the exits and one-year veterans jumped to the company next door, the fact that she had spent five years at a single firm was astonishing in itself.
“President Han puts a lot of effort into making sure employees have a good place to work.”
“Could you give an example?”
“For the event planning team, overtime, weekend work, and overseas business trips are pretty common.”
Apparently, since most performances happened on weekends, there was no helping it.
“So when things stay on standby for a long time, we easily go beyond the fifty-two-hour workweek. In those cases, the extra hours are converted into days off. Overtime pay is fully handled too.”
She said that was not common at other entertainment companies. Many places didn’t even pay the overtime allowance.
She also added that in event planning, some companies started with a monthly salary of around 1.5 million won, while Yuria’s starting salary was 2 million won a month.
The pay itself is different, they cover the overtime, and they even turn it into days off. I’d stay too.
“My father is Korean, so it’s a little less severe for me, but for foreign employees in the company, communication can still be difficult at times. Whenever that happens, President Han handles everything.”
I had heard that even foreigners who had lived in Korea for years sometimes still felt the gap of cultural difference.
Instead of just making one side give up and adapt, he explained the reason behind it with the explanation both sides needed, and that let misunderstandings disappear quickly.
“Since President Han graduated from Juilliard and used to be with New Universal Label in the United States...”
He ran the company by blending the strengths of the American style with the strengths of the Korean style, she said.
She said that compared with other entertainment companies, they paid more attention to complaints arising from the workplace and to communication.
And when she spoke about employee welfare in particular, especially the medical benefits and self-development programs, even the right-seat judge Yang Seungnam’s eyes gleamed.
“Then are you able to make suggestions directly to the president?”
“Yes. He’s very proactive about collecting opinions.”
An appreciative sound, clearly full of approval, escaped the judge’s mouth.
He quickly closed his mouth again, but.
It looks like the company image is holding up well.
Then it was time to move into the main issue.
“On the program Come On In, It’s Time to Work, they made it seem as though Kim Yo-gi had a hard time working there because she was a foreigner. They especially portrayed her as being assigned all the physically demanding tasks.”
Kim Yo-gi stated flatly that she could not understand PD Jo Ji-han’s discriminatory remarks toward foreigners, and that she had never been made to handle all the physically demanding work.
“It may simply be the defendant’s bias from having worked in broadcasting for so long. Could you briefly explain what the event planning team actually does?”
Before the defendant’s lawyer could object, I passed the question to Kim Yo-gi.
He probably thought he’d been a beat too late, because the lawyer bit his lip.
“The event planning team handles concerts, fan meetings, and other events. Broadly speaking, its work can be divided into execution management for performance arts planning and on-site operations.”
“What kind of work were you primarily responsible for, Kim Yo-gi?”
“Because we rotate, it’s hard to say I was assigned to just one thing, but recently I’ve been in charge of performance arts execution management. And I also occasionally assist with on-site operations in place of Lee Chan-hyeong, who is on maternity leave.”
“The accident mentioned on Come On In, It’s Time to Work—was it related to on-site operations?”
“Yes.”
“Could you tell us what happened?”
“During the final sound check for Twice’s concert at the end of 2023, there was a problem with one of the backstage subwoofers. So I hurried to move the subwoofer with a cart, but the cart wasn’t parked properly and hit my ankle bone. I ended up in a cast because of it.”
“Did you file for industrial accident compensation?”
“I did.”
But then why.
“Why would PD Jo Ji-han of Come On In, It’s Time to Work depict it as though Kim Yo-gi, being a foreigner, couldn’t even receive compensation and might lose her job?”
At that moment, with everyone watching her, Kim Yo-gi swallowed hard and spoke.
“...When I was a college student, I came to Korea, so I know very well what situations like this are like.”
Looking at defendant Jo Ji-han.
“Because my face doesn’t look like a native Korean’s, he assumed I was a foreign worker. He thought I wouldn’t understand Korean well, so he ignored what I said.”
She gave a hollow laugh.
“He decided I probably didn’t know the employment contract terms precisely, and it seems like he staged everything by coordinating with the labor consultant.”
“So in the end, what PD Jo Ji-han did was basically something he imagined up on his own? If not, then...”
Just then, as if unwilling to lose ground this time, the defendant’s lawyer shot a hand into the air.
“Your Honor, I object!”
“State your grounds.”
“Counsel for the plaintiff is leading the witness right now.”
“Sustained. Counsel for the plaintiff, be careful.”
I should have finished the sentence.
Annoyance welled up.
If I add anything more about Jo Ji-han now, this won’t end with just a warning.
I might even earn the judge’s resentment for not listening to the bench properly.
“...Understood.”
I’d have to adjust the strategy.
Take a breath, then strike.