Please Sue QS (1)
By evening, I was seated across from Oh Il-mu at a drinking table. It turned out his burning question was how I had known in advance that an accident would occur during the previous hearing. That moment must have been the decisive turning point that won him over. He admitted that when I first warned of the impending incident, he had dismissed it as the reckless speculation of a novice. Even after the accident actually happened, he had chalked it up to coincidence. Only after watching me cleanly resolve the entire matter did he realize I possessed a level of legal talent that could never be acquired through exam study or courtroom experience alone.
Once my superiority in handling legal matters became undeniable, he folded without resistance. Oh Il-mu was clearly a born legal professional through and through. Seeing this, I finally understood why Chairman Kwon Byung-do trusted him yet never placed him in a key management position. His attitude of wanting to teach a rookie lawyer first and his tendency to judge people solely by legal ability were hallmarks of a senior attorney, not the qualities of a capable executive.
Of course, the real answer to his question was that I had seen the judgment in advance, but there was no need to state it so plainly. Extraordinary abilities appear more sacred when their true nature remains ambiguous. To Oh Il-mu, who was dying to know how I had foreseen JB Construction’s courtroom disaster, I gave an answer that invited a convenient misunderstanding.
“In this lawsuit, JB Construction was the plaintiff who filed first.”
“Yes, that’s correct.”
“When I only reviewed the documents you provided, the loss for JB Construction seemed far too obvious, just as you said. I started wondering why they would bring a case with no chance of winning. That led me to suspect the documents didn’t contain the full story.”
Oh Il-mu’s eyes widened with genuine admiration.
“Ah, I see. One must look beyond the paperwork and see the true nature of the case, the way you do. I’ve been so busy handling one matter after another that my vision has grown clouded. Please accept this drink, Young Master.”
Having satisfied his curiosity, it was time to bring up my own matter. I accepted the clear liquor poured into the white porcelain cup and asked,
“By the way, Attorney Oh.”
“Yes, Young Master.”
“Did Father say anything in particular when he decided to have us set up independently? It seemed like the two of you continued talking after I left.”
Oh Il-mu’s hand paused briefly as he poured. Though my question was light, its underlying meaning was not. Asking about a private conversation between him and Chairman Kwon Byung-do was, to Oh Il-mu, equivalent to suggesting we redefine our positions. Until now, Oh Il-mu and I had stood side by side beneath the chairman. But subordinates do not casually inquire about or repeat conversations held by their superiors.
If Oh Il-mu answered and relayed what had been said, he would effectively become a messenger leaning closer to my side than the chairman’s. He was no doubt weighing a complex decision in that brief moment—whether to remain solely the chairman’s subordinate, or to take a step toward me, who might one day hold the reins of the entire QS Group.
Oh Il-mu opened his mouth.
“After you left, Young Master…”
“Yes.”
“We discussed the position of Chief of the Central Management Headquarters—Junggyeongbon—a post the chairman has held concurrently for years, leaving it effectively vacant.”
“The Chief of Junggyeongbon?”
“Yes. He mentioned he was considering you for the role and asked me to report on how you conduct yourself. Of course, I cannot say whether it was merely something said in good spirits or a genuine intention.”
I chuckled. With this, Oh Il-mu had clearly aligned himself with my faction. After all, even he could not tie his future solely to Chairman Kwon Byung-do, whose end was in sight. He also knew it was too late to attach himself to either Kwon Seong-gyun or Kwon Je-gyun. Unless he planned to leave the group entirely, I was his only viable option.
I emptied the cup he had poured and replied,
“So that’s what you discussed. You’ll speak well of me to Father, won’t you?”
“Of course. Even if you move to Junggyeongbon, I will assist you to the best of my ability.”
“Thank you. For now, please focus on helping our firm rather than Junggyeongbon. I need to demonstrate my capabilities through this venture before Father will seriously consider a larger role for me.”
“Understood. I will serve with utmost loyalty.”
The scale was larger than I had expected. I had heard before that the next Chief of Junggyeongbon was widely regarded as the successor to the group. The rumor had circulated not only internally but also in the media. While this did not confirm I would inherit QS Group, it at least told me that I had quietly entered the succession lineup that Chairman Kwon Byung-do had previously reserved for Kwon Seong-gyun and Kwon Je-gyun alone.
* * *
The drinking session with Oh Il-mu stretched on. By the time the third white porcelain bottle arrived, I asked,
“Attorney Oh, what did you mean earlier when you mentioned the firm’s name?”
Oh Il-mu took a deep breath, as though preparing to broach a difficult subject.
“I believe I owe you an apology first, Young Master. You opposed it, yet I went ahead and named the firm anyway.”
“It’s fine. We can change the name once the firm grows and converts to a law corporation.”
“Thank you for your understanding. However, while you were still at the court, someone came looking for you because of that name.”
“Who?”
“Kwon So-hee.”
Kwon So-hee? I recalled the name from the family tree I had studied. She was the daughter of Chairman Kwon Byung-do’s older brother—my cousin.
“So-hee noona came to see you? What for?”
“She saw that I had left QS Group and opened my own firm under my own name, and she apparently assumed I had completely fallen out with QS.”
“Outsiders could easily see it that way. Was her visit related to QS Group?”
Oh Il-mu nodded.
“Yes. More precisely, it concerned President Kwon Seong-gyun, who oversees QS Electronics. She said she wanted to sue him.”
“Interesting. So that’s why you asked me not to change the signboard for the time being—so she would continue believing you had broken with QS.”
“Exactly.”
My interest piqued, I pressed further.
“What companies does So-hee noona own?”
“She did not inherit any companies. She received several QS Electronics dealerships. It seems President Kwon Seong-gyun attempted to create a slush fund through those dealerships.”
“What?”
“I do not know if it is true, but that is what Kwon So-hee claims. From what I have heard so far, it does not sound like a major issue, but given the chairman’s strained relationship with his nephews and nieces, she appears to have considered filing a lawsuit.”
“Do you think the case has merit?”
“I cannot say yet. We agreed to meet again outside once she brings evidence. I will need to examine it then.”
At that moment, a sheet of paper appeared before my eyes—visible only to me. This time, however, it was completely blank. It was not that the text was too blurry to read; there was simply no content written on it at all. For a brief second I wondered if my ability had vanished, but I quickly understood the reason.
Kwon So-hee intended to “sue” Kwon Seong-gyun. Not a civil lawsuit to recover money, but a criminal complaint meant to send him to prison. In Korea, only prosecutors can file criminal cases in court. Private citizens must file a complaint with the prosecution. Even then, prosecutors do not send every case to trial; they dismiss minor or meritless complaints without indictment. Without an indictment, no judgment is ever issued.
My ability had not disappeared. There simply was no judgment to see, so the paper remained blank—an entirely normal function. In other words, even if Kwon So-hee filed a complaint against Kwon Seong-gyun, it would never reach trial. She would suffer a complete defeat.
Oh Il-mu was telling me this story because he wanted to know whether I intended to use it to pressure Kwon Seong-gyun. But the risk far outweighed any possible gain. Kwon Seong-gyun was indeed an opponent I would eventually need to topple once the succession battle began in earnest. That did not mean he was an easy target I could poke at with a weak case. At present, he did not even regard me as a competitor. I could continue growing without interference for the time being. If I struck first with an ineffective weapon, I would only be summoning a boss monster I was not yet ready to face.
Moreover, as the youngest son, moving against my eldest brother without clear justification would create a terrible impression—not only with the public but with Chairman Kwon Byung-do as well. I could not afford to get entangled in Kwon So-hee’s complaint.
* * *
Then again, should I simply discard the card Oh Il-mu had offered as proof of his loyalty? As I picked at the side dishes and mulled it over, I realized that was not the answer either. If the risk was too high for me to play the card myself, I could simply let someone else play it. There was one person who would eagerly snatch up this opportunity.
“Attorney Oh?”
“Yes, Young Master.”
“What kind of person do you think Kwon Je-gyun is?”
“You mean the second young master?”
“Yes.”
Oh Il-mu hesitated for a moment before continuing.
“Since he is your brother, I am unsure how to answer appropriately.”
“I am not asking about him as a family member. I want to know what kind of executive President Kwon Je-gyun is in the company. Your perspective would be more helpful than what I already know. Please speak freely.”
“It pains me to say this, but I do not hold a favorable view of President Kwon Je-gyun.”
Good. That was exactly what I wanted to hear.
“It’s all right. I would actually prefer an honest assessment over empty praise.”
“Very well. Then, if you will excuse me…”
Oh Il-mu’s candid evaluation of Kwon Je-gyun followed.