Chapter 130
It was Kang Minjae who'd said he wanted to drink, but the ones tilting their glasses were me and Office Manager Oh. We'd ordered drinks recommended for pairing with our meal. Choi Jonghyeon gawked at the prices on the menu, but when I said I'd cover it—again—he dove in, ordering whatever caught his eye. The way he kept asking, "Can I get this too?" and "What about that?" made him look like a guy who'd starved for days.
"Ah, I'm stuffed."
Choi Jonghyeon patted his noticeably bloated belly—compared to before the meal—and pulled out a cigarette.
"Office Manager, you don't smoke, do you?"
He eyed the ashtray on the table, pulling it closer like he was dying for a drag.
"Go ahead."
"Feels awkward if I'm the only one."
I'd been about to step out for a smoke myself, but seeing the ashtray in his hand, I let out a sigh. The smoking ban in pubs wouldn't pass for a few more years. It'd been nearly two years since I returned to this time, but old habits died hard.
"So, Reporter Choi. Did you look into what I asked?"
Nearly an hour had passed since we met. Time to get down to business.
Choi Jonghyeon poured a bit of water into the ashtray, stubbed out his cigarette, and replied.
"Why else would I contact you, Lawyer Cha?"
Office Manager Oh's face stiffened oddly at the response. He could've just said yes, but the evasive twist felt rude, maybe. I was used to his snippy tone—first impressions had soured from the start in my past life—but not everyone was.
"To be honest, I'm not thrilled with the results."
Choi met my eyes as he spoke.
"In what way?"
"No one comes out clean if you shake 'em hard enough, but this? Not even dust."
I chuckled.
"There must've been plenty of dirt. Especially if you asked around in this industry—they probably just spewed curses."
"They do say you're too cocky. Blinded by money and fame."
Choi grinned back, and Office Manager Oh—who'd stayed quiet till then—sighed and spoke up.
"Reporter Choi. Watch your words."
He'd been wary from the start; clearly, Choi rubbed him the wrong way. When he'd first given me Choi's number, he'd saved it with "block immediately" notes. Bad first impressions, probably. Sometimes, Office Manager Oh seemed more of an FM Robot than I ever was. Though I'd shed that nickname when I left the prosecutors' office.
"Oops. I was going for a twist—badmouthing first for the payoff—but I offended you, Office Manager."
Choi scratched his cheek, eyeing Oh's still-stony face.
"I get it. The guys calling you cocky are just gutless. The 'money-grubber' accusations? That's them projecting. Most of the haters are the ones who sold out to Taegwang and Jangyoung for a payday. If you'd really chased cash, they'd say you got kicked out of snooty Taegwang for flapping your mouth too much. You'd have jumped ship there ages ago."
Choi laughed heartily, adding it half-defensively.
"The fame-chasing bit? Same deal. Saying 'I'm a solo lawyer' doesn't get as much respect as 'Taegwang attorney.' Your cases were big, sure, but folks trashed you at first—egg versus rock. You kept winning against the odds, so the rep followed."
What the hell was this sudden Yongbi Eocheonga? Even if Office Manager Oh looked displeased, Choi wasn't the type to hold back.
"I get the 'sharp stone gets the chisel' thing. Haters gonna hate. Doesn't bother me—it's par for rebels. Feels like we vibe on that."
"I see."
"Want more? Perfect SAT score. Top of Seoul National Law. Top of Judicial Training Institute. Undefeated in court. Hell, rumors say you're tall, handsome too. Perfect to a nauseating degree."
Choi shuddered like it creeped him out. Listening, even my toes curled. I'd almost prefer the earlier digs. But Office Manager Oh's stiff expression had softened a bit.
…Is this what he wanted?
"Ah, some say your personality's iffy, but whatever."
"A lawyer like him has a fine personality."
Office Manager Oh pushed back. His face was blank, but after all this time, I caught the subtle pride—like a dad hearing his son praised.
"But."
It was fleeting. As Choi's conjunction hinted at a reversal, Oh's brow twitched faintly.
"No human touch. Can't trust it. Feels like the world's slickest con man spinning tales."
I didn't usually check people I trusted lately, but I glanced above his head. The sparkling [Truth] confirmed it—no posturing for show.
His words tied back neatly. Bad results, untrustworthy—same gist. In my past life, he'd come to me; pulling him in early took more work than expected.
"If you're doling out info bit by bit to use me, I'd fall for it hook, line, and sinker."
He downed his glass, crunched a cold side dish, then sighed heavily, hands on his knees.
"But. Your intel's too damn tempting. Spent days agonizing…"
Choi refilled and gulped it down. Downing drinks mid-sentence was his tell for delicate topics.
"I'll ride with you for now, like you said. But if my gut's right about this unease, I'm jumping ship. Curse me ungrateful all you want. Feels shitty saying it when I owe you big."
"No need to apologize. That's separate. I wouldn't want some half-truster in a life-or-death fight either."
"Thanks for understanding. Makes me wanna retract the personality jab."
He chuckled, meeting my eyes.
"Since you're so understanding, one more? I wanna ask you a favor."
"Shoot."
"Give Go Sangjun one solid punch."
I tilted my head.
"Metaphor?"
"You think I'd mean it literally?"
"I'd love to land a real one, but figuratively works. Curious how."
Instead of answering, he pulled a photo from his briefcase and slid it over. I picked it up and let out a small gasp.
"Protester in front of Wooshin Logistics HQ."
"…Huh? You knew about this?"
"No, spotted it on fieldwork today. Don't know details yet."
I'd only skimmed the top line then, but the photo filled me in.
"Short version: Protester's family of a Wooshin Logistics construction apartment division employee. Guy got beaten bad by Go Yunseong, but now he's suing the employee—who got indicted."
The words "crazy bastard" nearly slipped out. No way a regular construction worker pummeled Go Sangjun's son into the hospital. If he had, I'd salute the guts. Any beef with Go Yunseong? I'd bet on the other guy. Prosecutors might cry "presume innocence," but not for him. Even if Satan himself, Go Yunseong was likelier guilty. Personal bias? Sure, but data-backed.
"Saw 'thug' under his pic on your whiteboard. You get the vibe."
Dozens of names on that board; he'd been fixated on Angel's House, so I figured he missed it. Broader view than I thought.
"Heard from a union rep I know—he was tight with the victim. Go Yunseong's antics already had the union buzzing, then this assault? Folks wanted to make it an issue. But him flipping the script—claiming the employee hit first—muddied it."
Union reps who'd seen his bullshit wanted to believe the worker, but needed hard proof to rally. Without ironclad certainty it was Go Yunseong's fault, uprising was tough.
"Prosecutors indicted, so some say evidence proves the worker lied. Union's split."
"Got it. Maybe Go Yunseong's staging a reverse play on purpose."
"Exactly. That's why I'm asking you."
Poking Wooshin subsidiaries was one thing; tangling with his son was war on Go Sangjun. Keeping Go Yunseong around despite knowing he was irredeemable meant the old man couldn't fully cut ties. Choi was testing me. No fire for Wooshin? Full war's a drag. But if the worker was innocent, hard to refuse. Reject as premature? Looked like caving to power, ignoring the wronged. Especially after he'd seen me bulldoze Iljungilbo for Kim Jeongu.
"I get it."
"You'll take it?"
"Can't say yet. We need to verify. Trusting your word alone? That'd be sketchier."
"Fair."
"We started digging right after spotting the protester today. I'll follow up once we check."