The Verdict Appears
The bar exam typically presents a case summary and asks for the legal outcome. Today's final exam followed that familiar pattern.
— (...)
Homeless man A had noticed that the parking lot of a certain villa was always empty and had pitched a tent there to live. Resident B, upon discovering this, asked A to leave, but A refused. B then filed a criminal complaint against A for trespassing.
— (...)
The question itself was straightforward. All one needed to know was that the "residence" protected under trespassing law included not only the house itself but also surrounding facilities like the parking lot. Under those facts, A, who had trespassed on B's residence, was 100% guilty.
I was about to jot down the answer, snorting at how easy the question was for a final exam in the last semester of law school, when something strange happened.
"What is this?"
A hazy shimmer rose before my eyes, twisting and coalescing into readable text. No matter how many times I waved my hand through it or blinked, the words remained.
I glanced around the lecture hall to see if the same thing was happening to anyone else, but everyone else was focused on their exam papers. Since time wasn't tight, I decided to read the floating text.
[Ruling. The defendant is sentenced to a fine of 500,000 won.]
[Reason. (...) It is recognized that the defendant unlawfully occupied part of another's residence and refused a lawful request to vacate. (...)]
Whoa. This was a court judgment—the "ruling" and the "reason" behind it. The case summary on the exam paper had triggered the actual verdict to appear before my eyes. Even by my own legal knowledge, it matched perfectly. For a case like this, a fine was the standard outcome.
I exhaled deeply, startled. When I read the next case summary, another judgment appeared in the same way.
People in the legal field sometimes joked about "seeing the judgment," usually when a case was so simple that even a mediocre lawyer could predict the result. But that was just a figure of speech. A real judgment was written by a judge, word by word, and no two judges used exactly the same phrasing or style. Even the most brilliant lawyer couldn't predict a future judgment down to the last particle.
Yet that impossible ability had now manifested in me.
Perhaps because I'd already grown somewhat accustomed to extraordinary things happening since taking over Ho-gyun's body, the shock quickly turned into elation. If I could see the verdict just from reading a case summary, this wasn't merely a tool for acing exams. If the ability worked on real cases, I could become a lawyer who knew the outcome in advance. The judgment would also contain information about events that hadn't happened yet, giving me the power to predict the future.
Even though I came from five years in the future, my memories were limited to major events or things that had happened around Kang Min-chan. If I could foresee the future that awaited Kwon Ho-gyun, it would be an enormous weapon for seizing control of the QS Group.
Neither his older brothers, Kwon Seong-gyun and Kwon Je-gyun, nor even the current chairman, Kwon Byung-do, possessed such an ability.
I finished the exam in a rush and returned to the penthouse to test my new power. Sitting at the computer, I read an article about a kidnapping case. Even though the trial was still ongoing, the judgment appeared before my eyes.
[Ruling. The defendant is sentenced to twelve years in prison.]
[Reason. (...) The defendant kidnapped the minor Sim Mi-jeong for financial gain and, after the abduction, failed to provide her with adequate food for several days, bringing the victim to the brink of death. The crime is therefore not light. (...)]
A few days later, the kidnapper's trial concluded and the judgment was released exactly as I had seen it.
"Yes!"
Since I lived alone in the penthouse, I leapt from my chair and shouted with joy. Both the heavy sentence for the despicable kidnapper and the confirmation that I could truly see future judgments filled me with elation.
Not long after the sentencing, all exams at law school ended and the semester concluded. That was when a crucial event arose that would shape the rest of my life in Kwon Ho-gyun's body five years in the past.
— Let's meet at the headquarters chairman's office at 2 p.m.
It was a message from Kwon Byung-do, Kwon Ho-gyun's father and the current chairman of the QS Group.
If there was only one person a third-generation chaebol needed to impress, it was Chairman Kwon Byung-do. To push past my two older brothers and take over the QS Group, his influence was absolutely essential.
— Yes, Father.
After sending the brief reply, I took a deep breath. I had known this meeting would come eventually and had prepared thoroughly. I had analyzed every past conversation stored in Ho-gyun's phone and repeatedly visualized the few face-to-face encounters I'd had with him as Kang Min-chan.
Today I needed to accomplish two things in my meeting with Chairman Kwon Byung-do. First, I had to make him naturally accept me—Kang Min-chan's mind in Ho-gyun's body—as his son. Second, I had to erase the image of the troublemaker Kwon Ho-gyun and prove that I had become a completely different person. Only then could I carve out a place for myself in the succession battle.
After a light lunch, I closed my eyes and once more imagined the private audience with the chairman. He already disapproved of his youngest son, so the conversation would not begin smoothly. I would keep my head down and respond submissively, just as Ho-gyun had, until the real reason for the summons surfaced. That would be my opportunity to firmly imprint that I was now someone who could meet his expectations.
When I met Chairman Kwon Byung-do a short while later, he launched into the expected scolding. The topic was my law school grades. With Kang Min-chan no longer around to handle assignments, Ho-gyun's grades had been disastrous—mostly Cs, with a few Ds sprinkled in. It wasn't hard to guess what had happened. He would have failed outright with Fs, but the QS Group's influence had probably secured the minimum passing scores so he could graduate.
Of course, the final exam I had just taken with Kang Min-chan's mind would show excellent results, but those grades weren't reflected yet. Chairman Kwon Byung-do, who had already obtained my transcript, sighed heavily.
"Are you graduating this year?"
"Yes. I've met the requirements."
"Then you'll be taking the bar exam too?"
I had known this was the real reason he summoned me. From here on, I needed to focus.
"Yes."
"Are you confident you'll pass? If you fail that exam that half the people pass, I won't be able to show my face anywhere."
While the pass rate hovered around fifty percent, the exam was far from easy. Only those who had completed three years of law school could even sit for it. Still, there was no point explaining its difficulty to the chairman. What mattered was that he cared deeply about whether I passed.
"I'll definitely pass."
"Hmph." Chairman Kwon Byung-do sighed again, unconvinced, then walked to his desk and returned with several thick envelopes. He tossed them onto the table in front of me.
Thud.
"What is this?"
"This year's bar exam questions. I went to a lot of trouble to get them, so memorize every question and answer before you go in. If you still fail after this, I'll remove you from the family register. Keep that in mind."
Wow. The bar exam questions were supposed to be strictly controlled to prevent leaks. If he could obtain them anyway, the chairman's power was truly formidable. But I didn't need them. The questions inside were the same ones I had seen when I took—and placed second in—the exam five years later, before dying and returning to the past. More importantly, it didn't matter what questions appeared. I already possessed enough legal knowledge to ace the bar exam. Above all, I could see the model answer—the judgment—simply by reading the case summary. What problem could possibly trouble me?
Still, the envelopes the chairman had brought could be put to good use right now.
Tap, tap.
I neatly gathered the envelopes he had thrown and held them out to him.
"Father."
Chairman Kwon Byung-do looked at me and the envelopes in turn, his expression sour.
"I'm truly grateful that you've gone to this trouble, but I want to pass the bar exam on my own strength."
Perhaps because this was a side of Ho-gyun he had never seen, there was a brief pause before the chairman responded.
"Don't tell me you're doing this because you don't want to study? If you can't study alone, I'll hire a tutor. Take them."
Just how badly had Kwon Ho-gyun behaved for his father to react this way even when his son wanted to try on his own?
"No. I'm confident I can study hard for the remaining time and pass through my own effort and ability."
Chairman Kwon Byung-do's expression slowly changed.
"Then listen carefully. If you fail, you'll return every share of the QS Group affiliates I've given you, and there will be no further gifts of even a single share. No cash support either. Are you still confident?"
The earlier threat about removing me from the family register had been an empty remark—Korean civil law didn't even allow such a thing. But the shares he mentioned now were something he could actually revoke. If that happened, any hope of entering the succession race would vanish, and my life as a chaebol heir would suffer a devastating blow.
Even so, my answer was already decided.
"Yes. I will definitely pass and never disappoint you. And there's one more thing I'd like to say."
"What is it?"
"After I pass the bar exam, I want to open and run my own law firm."