Chapter 168
Anyone seeing the six of us shuffle into the gamjatang restaurant Saturday morning with our haggard faces would assume we'd pulled an all-nighter and come for hangover soup. The only odd thing was me, dressed comfortably amid the five who'd dolled up for clubbing. Stuck in the middle like this, I felt like the group chaperone.
"Since we've crossed paths like this, how about we introduce ourselves properly?"
While waiting for our gamjatang order, Kim Chan-young took the lead, and we went around sharing names. He and his friends were all fourth-years in the Economics Department at Myeongun University. Kang Minjae simply introduced us as lawyers from the same office.
"Then drop the formalities. We'd all feel more comfortable that way."
"I'll switch when it feels right."
"Aw, come on, just do it. And Kang Lawyer already went casual back at the club."
Lee Sung-jin jumped in on Kim Chan-young's cue, nagging me to loosen up. It was a bit refreshing seeing the guy who'd spewed curses at me in the station, calling me an old fogey, now grinning ear to ear. Must be the alcohol wearing off. Same with Kang Minjae—liquor was the enemy.
"Where's the big pot?"
"Right here. Small ones over there."
It didn't take long for the gamjatang to arrive. Kim Chan-young grabbed a ladle, stirred the pot, and kept the chatter going.
"But you said Cha Lawyer is Kang Lawyer's boss? You guys seem really close. You even came down to the station."
He scooped a chunk of potato bone and some dried greens onto the plate in front of me as he asked. Instead of answering, I glanced at Kang Minjae.
Three years sharing an office—we were close enough that I didn't want to say otherwise. If something happened to him, sure, I'd show up. But cleaning up his messes like this? I'd pass. If not for the unexpected windfall of meeting Kim Chan-young, I'd have threatened to fire the guy next time he dragged me out at dawn for this crap.
"I was so wasted, no one else to call, it just... slipped out."
"You're not a kid—did you really need to call someone, Kang? You could've sobered up and handled it yourself."
I set the plate Kim Chan-young passed me in front of Kang Minjae instead.
"Haha, in my hour of need, you're the first who came to mind. Haha! Doesn't that just prove how much I look up to you?"
Kang Minjae shot back shamelessly.
"I still think Kang Lawyer's cool. You work hard and play hard. Not easy balancing both."
Kim Chan-young handed me a heaping bowl of gamjatang as he said it.
"You think? But how would you know if Kang actually works hard, Chan-young?"
"Huh? Doesn't he?"
Kim Chan-young covered his mouth like he'd slipped up. Kang Minjae pounced.
"Lawyer, why say something hurtful like that? I do work hard!"
"Eh, from Cha Lawyer's face, doesn't look like it. You slacking off or what?"
"What're you talking about? Slacking? Tell anyone more diligent than me to step up."
"Haha, getting all worked up just makes you look guiltier."
"This punk. Fine, what about you, Chan-young? Study hard? Economics means heavy workload. Fourth year—next semester's your last, right?"
Kang Minjae glared, refusing to take the heat alone.
"He's top of our department."
Lee Sung-jin chimed in.
"GPA over 4.4. Right?"
"So far, yeah... but semester's not over. Who knows."
Kim Chan-young mumbled awkwardly, poking at a potato bone with his chopsticks for no reason. I'd only watched him briefly, but I could guess his type. Studious, but plays hard too. From how he handled Lee Sung-jin at the station, he was clearly the group's leader. Though his cold snap at Lee Sung-jin showed some edge. His affable vibe reminded me a bit of Kang Minjae, but the feel was totally different.
"I wanted to be a prosecutor once. I heard at the training institute, you pick judge, prosecutor, or lawyer. You two chose lawyer?"
"Nah, both Cha Lawyer and I started as prosecutors."
"Whoa, cool. Must've had top scores."
"I was average, but Cha Lawyer? Insane. Top of the class, right?"
"Yeah, something like that."
I dropped a stripped-clean bone into the bin as I replied.
"Whoa, so cool and chill. If I'd topped the Judicial Research and Training Institute, I'd be strutting around bragging—'Yeah, I was top dog, haha. Cool, right?' But nah, 'something like that.' Epic."
Lee Sung-jin mocked me parrot-style, clowning around.
"Lawyer was famous in college. I'd heard the name even before meeting him. You know those legendary senior stories that get passed down? He was the unicorn protagonist."
"Whoa, seriously cool. Same school?"
"Yeah, same department. Different years, though."
Kang Minjae boasted about my college days like they were his own. Passed the bar while in school, always top of the department—stale tales.
"How many fried rice bowls?"
With the pot scraped clean, Kim Chan-young ladled scraps into empty bowls and asked.
"One per person? You guys full?"
Kang Minjae checked with the group. They'd downed a big pot and small ones, but still looked hungry, nodding eagerly.
"I'm good. You?"
"Nah, fried rice is the real star of gamjatang. Why so weak, Lawyer?"
"Gotta get home and sleep. Overeat and you'll get heartburn. Wait'll you're my age, Kang."
To a chain-smoker coffee addict like me, reflux was like a life companion. Kang Minjae and his crew stared solemnly, faces screaming, Is that what happens when you get old?
"Watch out, you guys. It's not far off. I'll step out for a smoke."
I left them ordering five fried rice bowls and headed outside. The clear sky had clouded over, fine raindrops starting to fall. I ducked under the eaves and lit up.
I mulled over Kim Chan-young. Using past-life knowledge to forge ties with people I hadn't known then was harder than expected. I'd thought knowing everything would make it easy, but nope—my miscalculation. Choi Jonghyeon worked because we'd been close in my old life; I knew his story inside out. But Kim Chan-young? Just background from investigations. Scant details for 2010. Best to build on this connection gradually, reach out later. The Wooshin docs came from 2018's Kim Chan-young. No clue what 2010's version was thinking.
"Lawyer, mind if I borrow a light?"
Lost in thought, Kim Chan-young's voice snapped me back. I handed him the lighter. He lit up, returned it, then squatted down beside me.
"Got an umbrella? Rain came out of nowhere."
"Convenience store next door. Grab one there."
"Oh, but Lawyer... you look so familiar. Been racking my brain where from?"
He stared up at me intently.
"Then I heard your name—clicked. You're the lawyer from the Go Yunseong case recently, right?"
"Yeah."
"Whoa, famous for a reason. Handsome, stuck in my memory. Haha. But weren't there tax and speculation issues lately? All good now?"
"No charges."
"Phew, glad. Netizens said it was Wooshin payback for locking up Go Yunseong."
I smiled faintly at his words. Well, well.
"Chan-young, you seem pretty interested in Go Yunseong."
He grinned. That fleeting expression, those eyes—not a curious college kid's.
"Nah, not Go Yunseong. He's just a famous fuck-up. Good riddance. Hate guys who strut on daddy's name without talent."
Anyone who knew Go Yunseong might say that, but from Kim Chan-young, it carried more—like resentment toward a legitimate heir.
"Not him, then what? Famous case, sure, but remembering even me the lawyer means you followed it closely."
"Wooshin, actually. I trade stocks. Hold some Wooshin affiliates."
[Truth]
Wooshin stocks. The affiliates gifted by Go Sangjun, probably.
"Yeah? Trading already as a student. Impressive."
"Oh right, you trade too, Lawyer? During that prosecutor probe, stocks came up—everything you touched skyrocketed. Thought you were under investigation for manipulation."
"Luck."
"C'mon, that's no luck. You've got an eye. Teach me? What's hot now?"
I stubbed out my cigarette.
"Let's head in."
"C'mon, tips on good ones? I trade small. Please?"
"Not my place to pick for you. But on your Wooshin affiliates—good or bad? That I can say."
"Ooh, hit me."
His face lit up.
"Holding some Myungwha Pharma now. Bought at IPO, shot up big thanks to Antrozol."
Myungwha Pharma. I nearly laughed. Launching alongside Cha-eum's Antrozol, it was set to skyrocket by late this year in the original timeline. A tweaked Antrozol was coming—same packaging, near-identical name (just "Alpha" tacked on). They halted original Antrozol production, so everyone called it Antrozol for short. Treated as an upgrade, not new drug.
Antrozol Alpha delivered miracles. Testimonials flooded in; despite millions per dose, supply couldn't meet demand. Prior patients switched and raved. Media spun it as "long-term Antrozol users finally seeing results." Myungwha hid the changes—understandably. The tweak was poison.
The clueless masses hailed Myungwha as humanity's savior. Stock soared. But this time? Different story.
"Can't recommend bio stocks."
"Why? Heard they explode if they hit. Plus Myungwha has the Antrozol upgrade hype."
"Fair, but I've heard Myungwha has issues."
"Ah... what kind?"
The fatal flaw in Antrozol Alpha would soon hit the world. My doing, before one more victim from Wooshin's greed poison.
"Dunno details, just rumors. Can't tell you buy this sell that, but... I'd sell."
My goals: full Antrozol recall, arrests for execs who knew of the changes, delist Myungwha Pharma.