Proper Living (2)
"...Right now, huh."
May 1, 1992. I hummed lightly to myself as I read the articles about the LA riots. It was the perfect excuse, and I could reap real benefits from it too.
"...Miss, did you know about this?"
"Nah, no way."
Lee Si-hyun gave me a meaningful look. She'd just returned from organizing vigilante groups in LA on my orders. It had been a bit risky, but there was no helping it.
"H-Hey... Yoo Ha-yeon, what the hell? Th-this is a riot, right? Like, a real one?"
Clinging tightly to the chief secretary's side was Cha Ba-da, trembling like a leaf. She'd come to LA for a 'timely' vacation and nearly gotten caught up in the chaos. She was still glancing around nervously, unable to shake off the shock.
Aigoo, that's what you get for skimping on bodyguards.
"It's fine. We're in Hollywood."
"B-But... Hollywood's still part of LA."
I patted the quivering greenhouse flower to calm her down. "You know LA's area is twice that of Seoul, right? And... wherever I am is the safest place. My guards are way more competent than yours."
As I said that, I pointed out the window at the exotic passersby. These were agents who, just a few years ago, had been elite Soviet spies. Now they worked as my bodyguards—because Si-hyun paid them well.
"Yeah... I guess they are."
Cha Ba-da let out a soft sigh and turned to me. "But how'd you even recruit people like that? Even back at Mirae Group headquarters, we don't have many at that level..."
...And honestly, the fact that they do have some like that is scarier.
Hiding my inner thoughts, I twisted my lips into a sly smile. "Grandpa assigned them to me? Probably testing if he can trust me with them yet."
"Ah... I see. Makes sense—the Soviet Union's only been gone a few years."
Cha Ba-da nodded naturally. Bodyguards were more about trust than skill, after all.
'It's a bit different in reality.'
I didn't tell her these weren't originally my guards—they were Si-hyun's subordinates. Or that Si-hyun was more focused on her mafia dealings in Russia these days, making these agents practically mobsters themselves. A girl with emerald Caribbean seas for eyes didn't need to hear about Russia's cold Black Sea underbelly.
Yeah, yeah.
"Perfect timing—your guards are gone too... Now we can have a real sticky chat."
"What? Wh-what do you mean? H-Hey! Don't come closer!"
I casually approached the chaebol daughter and hugged her tight. "Come on, don't play hard to get. We're friends, right?"
"Eek..."
She was the future of Mirae Group's future, after all. I had to nurture her into a puppet CEO.
Smiling softly, I whispered in her ear. "Ba-da, I've got a confession to make."
"...!"
The delusional girl's face flushed bright red as she shivered. 'Is now the right time to tell her?'
I pondered for a second, but it was already decided. Ba-da wouldn't sell me out... probably. Mirae Group—or rather, its current chairman—was less than nothing to her.
'That place is a mess too.'
Full of birth secrets, political intrigue—a perfect jungle where only the strong survive. Ba-da was a total failure in that sense. Her kind heart had her throwing away her fine upbringing to live like common folk.
I'd vetted her carefully using my past-life knowledge... but if I misjudged, oh well. Recruiting anyone carried the risk of leaks. And this wasn't even that crucial info.
"If I helped, would you want revenge on the chairman?"
"...What?"
Ba-da's face hardened.
***
Well... she shot me down flat.
"I don't know how you figured it out, but that's not happening."
"Too bad."
I shrugged nonchalantly and kept working. Suspicion shot my way.
"You think I don't know bringing in outsiders to a family fight leads to ruin? Especially borrowing Daeha Group's hand? Ridiculous."
I recited my prepared script calmly. "No worries there. I'm planning to live independently in the US. Grandpa already approved."
"Immigration?"
"Something like that. And... ruin? Isn't that what you're hoping for?"
"...I dunno."
She was still waffling, huh. Plenty of time. She looked like a proper pubescent girl, full of inner turmoil. Time to gaslight her into a long-term pawn.
"...Did you get close to me just for this?"
To the betrayed-looking girl, I kindly laid out reality. "That's a bonus. Nice if it works, whatever if not. Honestly... you're not that valuable."
"Y-You... you're such a bitch."
Am I?
"I just stated facts."
"That's worse."
"Anyway, my real goal is building ties with a US law firm. That's what this is all about..."
Recalling my immigration talk, she nodded in understanding. "Going into law, huh. Picking a field your family can't touch—business no, law yes... You're amazing."
Ba-da sighed enviously. "Must be nice being a genius."
"Yep, I feel it all the time."
"...Asshole."
True to her wandering age, she bought my pitch hook, line, and sinker. A seasoned adult would know escaping a chaebol house was a pipe dream.
'...But there are plenty of cases, so maybe not.'
It happened often enough. Heirs desperate to escape their overachieving forebears' shadows.
"From that angle, the LA riots are a golden opportunity. Ties to the Korean community, but builds US rep. Only issue is I'm still a minor..."
I grinned and whispered to Ba-da. "I've got a connection at Alpha Fund."
***
The firm I targeted was Quinn Emanuel—now Quinn Emanuel Urquhart & Oliver. Founded in 1986, it wasn't famous yet... but it would be. It even defended Daeha Group in a future lawsuit against Apple. The founder had a soft spot for the East, too.
Not well-known now, but skilled, no grudges or biases—perfect match. I could build from scratch, but something with a track record was better.
"...I have no ties to LA myself. And do we really need this convoluted way to find a firm?"
Ha Young-il was Ivy League, East Coast—LA was West Coast. No reason for him to get involved otherwise.
"This isn't just exposing a Ponzi and calling it a day. Alpha Fund's new, short on connections."
Madoff was revered in Jewish and finance circles. Walk into a firm cold, and it might not even be a fight—we'd get laughed out.
"Firms avoid tough wins. To pit them against Madoff's fortress now, we need to pay upfront."
Not with money. With fame. A win claiming hundreds of millions in riot damages? Rocket fuel for a startup firm.
I'd stay in the shadows anyway—no use for the glory. Useful trade.
Ha Young-il nodded in understanding. "Got it. Owe them a favor first, then they'll hear us out on the tough stuff. ...But I'm no good at that."
"No worries. I'll make it happen."
This scenario was like feeding Ba-da a plausible tale to earn her admiration. Not even fully a lie. Great liars mix truth and fiction—so a kernel of truth here.
"The girl I brought is traumatized from the riots, turning activist. That'll paint a nice picture."
"Hmm... Not doubting you, miss, but is it okay? She's from another house..."
Dragging her into this big? Fair point, so I laughed lightly to reassure him.
"It's fine. The riots are so huge, easy to hide in. Foreign Ministry's openly protesting the US gov—Ba-da's trip has zero link to us."
"...I see."
Plus, we'd met just a month ago. No lunatic would peg me for starting the riots.
Mirae had their own near-miss—no suspicion there.
"Who'd suspect? We're just Korean community folks lending brotherly aid. The Ponzi part? No one knows anyway."
I grinned, poking his suit. "Right?"
A few days later, amid the nationwide uproar, Ha Young-il and I naturally connected with the firm.