Suppressing the Nephew's Rebellion (3)
Neurology, not internal medicine or surgery? Since I'd never visited that department in my life, I couldn't immediately recall the related conditions. To start with a basic search, I typed the hospital name into the portal search bar, and a paid advertisement link appeared at the very top. They must be putting considerable effort into attracting patients. It made sense—people rarely seek out neurology on their own.
When I clicked the link and entered the hospital website, a massive pop-up window appeared first. Whoa! The moment I read the advertisement copy on that pop-up, I instantly understood Yu Hwan-il's condition.
Dementia! If you're worried, prevent it. If you're suffering, we can stop its progression.
If Attorney Yu Hwan-il had dementia, everything suddenly made sense. It was a condition that didn't require hospitalization yet still necessitated regular hospital visits for medication. Sadly, recalling the not-uncommon news of missing elderly dementia patients, it explained why he never left the house except for hospital appointments. It also clarified why, starting three years ago, he had severed all social ties and disappeared. Dementia severely impairs cognitive function, so he couldn't have continued practicing law, which demanded high-level reasoning. Moreover, according to what Oh Il-mu had told me yesterday, Yu Hwan-il was someone who placed immense value on his honor. If that was the case, he might have cut off all contact to avoid tarnishing his reputation by interacting with acquaintances while suffering from dementia. Perhaps he even believed that simply having others know about his dementia would damage his honor.
This made it even more likely that his autobiography had been ghostwritten. It made no sense for someone who had developed dementia three years ago and stopped all social activities to suddenly regain his faculties three months ago and publish a book.
Just as I was pinpointing how to approach Attorney Yu Hwan-il, the phone I'd left on my desk began to ring. The caller ID showed Oh Il-mu.
"Yes, Attorney Oh."
— I'll keep this brief since I'm in a hurry. As you instructed yesterday, I sent Attorney Yu Hwan-il a message containing the exact problematic passages from the autobiography.
"I see. He read it but didn't reply again?"
— He didn't reply, but he called. He wants to meet at his house right now.
"Right now?"
Oh Il-mu, unaware of Yu Hwan-il's situation, spoke faster, clearly flustered.
— Yes. I asked if I could visit this evening or tomorrow, but he said it has to be now or not at all. I have to enter court soon, and it doesn't look like it'll end early. I didn't know what to do, so I called you, Young Master.
Hmm. There were two options here. Either send another lawyer from our firm to the trial, or send someone else to meet Attorney Yu Hwan-il. The cleaner choice was the latter. Having someone other than the assigned attorney appear in court would leave a poor impression on both the client and the court. They'd have to scramble to understand the case, which could tarnish Seungbaek's perfect win record.
"Could you ask if he'd be willing to meet with a junior colleague instead?"
— Pardon? You're going yourself, Young Master?
"No, that's not it. Just ask for now."
— Understood.
Less than a minute later, my phone rang again. It was a text message from the same sender.
— He says if necessary, send a junior colleague. I'll forward Attorney Yu's address separately.
Okay. The fact that he reacted so urgently to a message about his autobiography meant Attorney Yu Hwan-il had something to say about the book. He wasn't the type to ignore how unreasonable it was to demand that a lawyer in court come immediately. Yet he was pressing so hard probably because, as a dementia patient, the moments when his mind was clear were limited. This was one of those moments, and no one knew how long it would last. The person most terrified it would end soon was likely Yu Hwan-il himself.
That said, having me go personally—as Oh Il-mu had almost pointed out—wasn't ideal. If he recognized me as a member of the QS Group family, Attorney Yu Hwan-il might not speak freely. After all, he had once been deeply involved with the QS Group, and our firm was connected to this case. So who should I send?
My secretary, Cha Ye-na? No. She was diligent in her duties, but sending a secretary when I'd called for Oh Il-mu would be too beneath his station. Then a perfect candidate came to mind—someone who would carry out my instructions as faithfully as Cha Ye-na, yet wouldn't appear lightweight from an elder's perspective. I quickly picked up my phone and called Jegal Hyeon, my law school senior whom I'd hired as an associate when founding Law Firm Seungbaek.
"Senior. Are you busy right now?"
— No. I'm drafting a complaint, but it's not urgent as long as it's done by today.
"Then could you come to my office for a moment?"
After leaving Ho-gyun's office, Jegal Hyeon hailed a taxi and headed toward the address displayed on his phone. The atmosphere suggested it was an important matter, but he hadn't been given much information. He was simply told to go to this address, meet Attorney Yu Hwan-il, and relay whatever the man said back to Ho-gyun. He had also been handed a book with one page folded over, just in case it might be needed. Glancing at the cover, he saw it was Attorney Yu Hwan-il's autobiography. He considered checking the folded page but decided against it. It wasn't necessary for the messenger task he'd been assigned. Once again, he only needed to faithfully carry out what his employer had asked. He had no desire to dig into the deeper circumstances. Rather than aspiring to great professional success, Jegal Hyeon was the type who was content with a modest, ordinary life.
However, the moment he arrived at the address and saw Attorney Yu Hwan-il, Jegal Hyeon's emotions were deeply shaken—not professionally, but on a human level.
"You've come."
"Yes. I work with Attorney Oh Il-mu."
"Good, good. You've come to the right place. Come in."
Attorney Yu Hwan-il greeted him wearing what looked like an originally white tank top, now stretched at the neckline with yellowish stains that wouldn't come out even after washing. As he turned his back and walked inside, his shoulders hunched all the way down to his waist—it wasn't the Attorney Yu Hwan-il that Jegal Hyeon had known. This was their first actual meeting, but from photos, Jegal Hyeon had always thought he had an impressive presence. He'd never imagined seeing him in such a frail state. After all, Attorney Yu Hwan-il had once been called the top authority in domestic commercial law. Jegal Hyeon had even studied from books written by him during law school.
Following that hunched back into the dimly lit living room where not even a light was on, Attorney Yu Hwan-il collapsed onto the sofa as if he lacked the energy to move.
"I'm sorry, but I'm not feeling well right now. I'd offer you a glass of water, but I can't manage it."
"It's fine. Really. I only came because Attorney Oh Il-mu said you had something urgent to say, so I could listen and relay it to him."
When Jegal Hyeon sat on the floor across from him, the book in his hand naturally became visible.
"Is that the autobiography Oh Il-mu mentioned—the one I supposedly wrote?"
"I'm not sure what the two of you discussed, but would you like to take a look?"
"Yes. Let me see it."
As it was handed to Attorney Yu Hwan-il, the page Ho-gyun had pre-folded opened up. It was the page that exposed the manipulation of the QS Life Insurance stock preemptive rights case, dragging Attorney Yu Hwan-il's honor through the mud. Ho-gyun had deliberately highlighted it with a fluorescent marker, so the problematic passage caught Attorney Yu Hwan-il's eye immediately. After blinking several times as if his vision was dim, the text finally registered. His expression hardened, and soon the corners of his mouth began to tremble slightly.
Rip—
Then, as if mustering his last ounce of strength, he grabbed the page and tore it out.
"I take it the content doesn't please you."
When Jegal Hyeon tried to keep the conversation going, Attorney Yu Hwan-il sharply rebuked him.
"This isn't something I wrote!"
"Pardon?"
"It seems someone took the files I wrote and saved before retirement, mixed in this and that, and published it however they wanted. Hah, honestly."
"Who... are you saying did this?"
A single tear rolled down Attorney Yu Hwan-il's cheek, following the wrinkles around his eyes as he trembled with betrayal.
"As far as I know, there's only one person who could have gotten their hands on those files."
"Who is it?"
"Can you record what I'm about to say from now on and pass it on to Oh Il-mu? This isn't right. It doesn't make sense."
Jegal Hyeon quickly pulled out his phone from his pocket and opened the recording app.
"Yes. Recording is ready."
Taking Jegal Hyeon's phone, Attorney Yu Hwan-il began recording in a choked, tearful voice.
"This is Yu Hwan-il. This recording was made on March 22nd at 4:24 PM. (...)"
After the necessary preamble to give the recording evidentiary value, Attorney Yu Hwan-il's voice continued, slow and drawn out. Even Jegal Hyeon, who hadn't been interested in the details of the case on the way here, couldn't help but lower his head as he learned the truth from Attorney Yu Hwan-il's words. A short while later, when Jegal Hyeon emerged from Attorney Yu Hwan-il's house, he was holding a USB drive that looked quite old, its color faded. This USB had probably once been white as well, just like the tank top Attorney Yu Hwan-il was wearing.
Attorney Yu Hwan-il's residence wasn't far from the legal district in Seocho-dong where Law Firm Seungbaek was located. Since Jegal Hyeon wasn't the type to engage in idle chatter, I figured it wouldn't take long. Yet after the time I'd roughly estimated in my mind had passed, Jegal Hyeon still hadn't returned.
— Was Attorney Yu Hwan-il's message to Oh Il-mu that long?
— Should I try calling Jegal Hyeon?
— Would that be interrupting?
Just as those thoughts crossed my mind, my office door opened, and Jegal Hyeon walked in with a somber expression quite different from when he'd left.
"Did everything go well?"
"Yes. I listened to what Attorney Yu Hwan-il had to say. And he gave me this."
With that, Jegal Hyeon held out the USB drive, no bigger than two finger joints, that he'd been carrying.
"What is this?"