Cho & Jang (1)
“Think you can handle it?”
“Of course! It’ll be nothing.”
“Make sure of it.”
“Leave it to me. How dare some Sabaeja…”
In a room salon in Gangnam, Academic Affairs Director Wang Jindeok had summoned mathematics teacher Lee Jangyong.
Whiskey filled their glasses with a soft gurgle.
“Right. A Sabaeja can’t take first place at Cheonghwa High. Never once in the school’s history has trash like that claimed the midterm top rank—especially not in math.”
“Exactly! First place in math without even attending a hagwon? As if that bastard’s some kind of genius.”
The two men were of one mind. They were the sort who always chose profit over justice.
Wang Jindeok had his eye on the next principal’s seat. Staying in the good graces of Cheonghwa’s parents was an absolute necessity. To a man skilled in flattery, every word from the revolving door of PTA presidents carried the weight of a royal decree.
Lee Jangyong shared that purpose and aligned himself accordingly. He lived for the pleasure of crushing bright kids with mathematics alone. And now a Sabaeja named Ha Taewoong had poured cold water all over that particular joy—an unforgivable offense.
“I’ll cover your back. Handle it cleanly.”
“Heh heh. Don’t worry.”
A sly glint settled in Lee Jangyong’s eyes and at the corners of his mouth.
“Pull this off and the math department chair is yours.”
“Thank you, Director.”
“Pick a day next week. Then wreck that bastard in front of the entire school!”
“Yes, sir!”
“Anyway, let’s enjoy ourselves for a bit.”
“I’ve been waiting. Heh heh.”
The academic affairs director had come well supplied with thick pocket money today. Though the sun was still up, he had booked the room early. He always finished his entertainment early so as not to fall out of his wife’s favor. He and Lee Jangyong occasionally arranged these outings, each reading the other’s tempo with practiced ease.
Beep.
Wang Jindeok pressed the call button with expert fingers.
And then—
“Oppa! You’re early today?”
“Take good care of him. He’s a junior I value.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll vouch for this one—Sera.”
Wang Jindeok’s unofficial mistress, a junior madam, entered with a young woman in her early twenties. The eyes of the unmarried, aging bachelor Lee Jangyong went immediately slack.
What a fool.
Lee Jangyong—the crazy math teacher pathologically obsessed with the subject. Watching those glazed eyes, Wang Jindeok allowed himself a quiet sneer.
Next week that insane math teacher would crush the Sabaeja; it was as clear as day.
I just watch the show and collect the envelope. Heh heh.
A world that meshed together as perfectly as clockwork gears.
“Ahhh…”
Wang Jindeok’s and Lee Jangyong’s rough hands began to roam over the two women. In an instant the air inside the room grew thick and heated.
There was one thing I had learned with absolute certainty in my previous life.
When it came to handling any legal problem that arose in South Korea, the answer was always Cho & Jang!
Even the perpetrator who killed my father had Cho & Jang attorneys behind him. High-priced lawyers a mere truck driver could never have afforded. I had known even then that Haryun Group stood behind the man.
But so what? At the time there had been nothing I could do. My father was clearly the victim, yet no one spoke for him. The prosecutor and judge who should have prioritized the victim were, from the very start, flustered and cowed by the Cho & Jang side.
A fatal accident caused by running a red light! The truck driver was unquestionably a suspect under the Act on Special Cases Concerning the Settlement of Traffic Accidents. Yet with Cho & Jang leading the charge, he walked free on a suspended sentence at the second trial. The deposit paid was a mere thirty million won. The first trial had handed down three years. The second reduced it to a suspended sentence. The Supreme Court confirmed it as if everything had been decided in advance.
I had tasted the terror of Cho & Jang back when I knew nothing. The humiliation and shame of that time remained vivid. This time I would not be on the receiving end. I had come to strike first.
One thing I could promise: from now on I would wage a real, blood-spattering war against Haryun Group. And first I would take Cho & Jang—the shield and spear of Haryun Group…
“How may I help you today?”
I parked in the lot and went straight up to the first floor, where the reception desk confirmed the purpose of my visit. A strikingly beautiful female staff member in a dark-gray uniform asked the question.
This place employed more than a thousand attorneys alone. Add patent attorneys and accountants and the total staff of Law Firm Cho & Jang exceeded four thousand. The peculiar thing was that Cho & Jang was not a corporation. Managing partner Jang Muyeol and the affiliated attorneys were employed under individual contracts. If a particular problem arose, they simply cut off the tail of that case. It was a profit collective built for perpetual survival. They had constructed pipelines that could sway not only South Korea’s judicial system but its administrative and legislative systems as well. One must never make an enemy of Cho & Jang. In this life, traveling with them was essential. For the astronomical profits I anticipated and for safe financial management, Cho & Jang’s assistance was absolutely necessary.
“I’d like comprehensive legal services.”
“Pardon?”
When someone who looked like a child mentioned comprehensive legal services, the female staff around her all showed surprise.
“I’m thinking of an annual service fee of around 1.2 billion won.”
“……!!”
1.2 billion a year in service fees. Of course their eyes went wide. From a revenue standpoint it was hardly a small sum. As a pure legal-services retainer—not litigation fees—it was excessive. It was the kind of figure one could charge only well-established mid-sized conglomerates.
“Is that not possible? Then I’ll take my business elsewhere—”
“C-Client! Please wait just a moment! Our firm, Cho & Jang, prides itself on offering the finest legal services in the Republic of Korea. Allow me to show you to a consultation room.”
The service-fee figure instantly changed the treatment. The desk staff who guided me now was polite, her eyes and attitude completely different from before. Watching that immediate shift, I could only admire: yes, this was Cho & Jang. There was nothing flustered about it.
She led me straight into a first-floor consultation room. Even in that short stretch a considerable number of employees came and went. The colors of light they gave off varied. Surprisingly, quite a few radiated clear auras. Of course, those with murky ones were not few either. The most common sight was a turbid golden light tinged with black—the light of people who had sold their conscience for money. Once you joined Cho & Jang, remaining a lawyer of conscience was nearly impossible. The fate of attorneys who had to win at all costs for their high-powered clients made sure of that.
“Tsk.”
I clicked my tongue inwardly. We entered one of the many consultation rooms lined up side by side. They were all of the same style. Client-consultation security looked thorough. Inside, the soundproofing was excellent and the space was quiet. A clean glass desk and chairs, a vase holding a bouquet of fresh flowers, a small refrigerator in the corner, a single painting on the wall—that was the entire room.
“I’ll prepare a beverage before the attorney arrives.”
“Just mineral water, please.”
“Yes.”
The staff member set a bottle of mineral water and a glass on the desk. It was French water. I poured it with a soft gurgle, leaned back in the chair, and crossed my legs comfortably. Strangely, I felt at home. The ease of a solid rear guard—all of it brought by money. That power operated without the slightest discount even here at Cho & Jang. In this place I was not the subordinate party; I was the principal. Emotion-free reason took dominant control of my consciousness.
Cho & Jang was no easy group. If not at this moment—when they still knew almost nothing about me—securing a contract later would be difficult. I was not yet entangled with Haryun. No incident, no contract had occurred. At present Haryun Group was operating through its internal legal team. Immediately after my father’s fatal accident they would sign with Cho & Jang over the truck-driver matter.
Knock knock.
Slide…
About five minutes later, a knock came and the consultation-room door opened. A man and a woman entered together.
“……!!”
A clean-looking middle-aged man in a dark-gray suit, and right behind him a woman. The moment I saw her I was startled.
Found her!!
A woman whose light was clear and pure. She radiated a light distinctly different from the many other Cho & Jang attorneys I had brushed past. A smile spread across my lips of its own accord. This was the attorney I had wanted to find. Her looks were excellent as well. Dark-brown wavy hair that swayed just above her shoulders. Though a lawyer, her expression was not cold. A high nose bridge, clear skin, and large silver-rimmed glasses suited her remarkably well. She wore a check-patterned soft-gray pantsuit that matched her slender height. The harmonious whole drew admiration. Keen light filled her intelligent eyes.
“Senior Attorney Kim Gyeongmin.”
The man in his late forties with a broad forehead offered his business card.
“Ha Taewoong.”
I accepted the card but had none to give in return. I was still just a high-school kid.
“Ahem…”
When no card appeared from me, Attorney Kim Gyeongmin simply stared. My young appearance seemed to make him slightly uncomfortable. The wavering in his eyes showed a mind working overtime—unsure whether I was a genuine high-paying client or simply insane.
I shifted my gaze to the female attorney.
“Attorney Ah Yura.”
The uniquely named lawyer held out the card she had been carrying. The long, snow-white hand that offered it was striking.
“Client, the service you desire is…”
“I want comprehensive legal services.”
“So not a litigation matter, then.”
“No. Not yet.”
“……??”
Naturally Attorney Kim Gyeongmin knew nothing at present. After contracting with me today, he would soon find himself sinking into a vast and deep swamp of every kind of lawsuit imaginable.
I laced my fingers together and added a meaningful smile to my lips.
“I am requesting full-spectrum legal services covering matters related to myself and my direct lineal ascendants. Contract term: minimum ten years. Annual fee: 1.2 billion won, paid at 100 million per month. Separate contingency fees will be paid per case for any litigation or other legal actions.”
“……!!”
Those were quite extraordinary terms. The two pairs of eyes that went round with shock proved it.
“However…”