Chapter 49

Pu-reun Island Media took about a month to fulfill the promised conditions. Na Eun-seong's name appeared alongside on every portal site and broadcast network's work homepage.

They couldn't stay silent about the sudden change, so Jeong Hyejin's side released a brief article stating that The Distance Between You and Me was a joint work with Na Eun-seong.

The explanation was short. It simply said there had been a difference in understanding about their contributions to the work, but it was now amicably resolved.

But….

And astonishingly, I witnessed the word gapjil—abuse of power by the dominant party—emerging three years earlier than in the original timeline. Fortunately or unfortunately, it got buried.

One might dismiss it as just a word, but the ripple effects of social terms extend far beyond that. Words hold immense power; giving a name to an act makes it significant in itself. The moment the tyrants' abuses are labeled as gapjil, all those subtly overlooked issues become "problems that must be solved."

It could spark social movements condemning gapjil, leading to real change. Of course, in the grand sweep of history, it's a necessary flow. It's social justice—the very goal I ultimately pursued.

But this issue alone wouldn't have created the term anyway; it would have emerged a few years later regardless. Was it arrogant of me to accelerate it artificially? I aimed to dismantle Wooshin Group, not rewrite history with some grand sense of purpose.

Anyway, the vibe's not bad.

I closed the portal site and stepped out to the balcony for a smoke. Leaning on the railing, I lost myself in thought for a moment.

Suddenly, it hit me: maybe my small actions were creating a butterfly effect, altering history.

Well, I already saved Kim Yeonjun from becoming a near-murderer… and helped Na Eun-seong, who might've suffered in silence from the plagiarism. History's already changed.

I was caught in a contradiction. Having resolved to avenge myself on Wooshin Group meant I'd effectively decided to reshape Korea's history. Taking on big cases for fame, building a positive public image—it ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was all the same. It was about changing the past where I lived as a mere prosecutor and died unjustly.

By not living my previous life identically, I was forcibly diverting the flow.

"Haa…."

It was ridiculous. I'd already chosen to live differently to realize justice, yet now I felt burdened by altering the flow.

I couldn't ignore injustice right in front of me. Foolishly, I still believed in the speck of justice left in this damned society.

"Lawyer Cha, what're you thinking about?"

Kang Minjae's voice snapped me out of it. He lit a cigarette beside me, eyeing my serious face.

"Oh, just this and that."

"The case wrapped up great, and you're moping? Wait, is this one of your 'happy faces' too?"

"Yeah. A happy face."

"Man, you're so weird."

Kang Minjae laughed.

"Kang."

"Yeah?"

"If Kim Yeonjun hadn't met us, would he still be rotting in prison?"

"Who knows? Maybe, maybe not."

"And Na Eun-seong? Would she have carried the plagiarism injustice silently?"

"She could've gone to another firm and won. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Though from what she said about constant rejections, who knows."

Kang Minjae was right. It could've gone either way. I only knew the future up to 2018. After that? Kim Yeonjun might win an appeal; Na Eun-seong might sue late and expose Jeong Hyejin. No one knew now.

I chuckled self-deprecatingly.

"Truth is, that's not for us to know."

He looked at me, slightly surprised.

"We're the ones fixing the injustice right in front of us. Ignoring that would be the real weird thing."

Thinking back, I'd had similar thoughts as a prosecutor. Why didn't injustice vanish from society? Why was justice so fleeting? We kept catching criminals, but evil persisted, with bigger ones waiting. It made everything feel meaningless.

But I'd already concluded otherwise.

"Turning a blind eye ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to injustice in front of you, calling it 'the natural order'—that's the real wrong. We can't eradicate it all, but living for justice will eventually tip the scales toward more justice in society. Mathematically speaking."

"…."

"Anyway, history is the sum of choices… No need to stay crumpled up making the same wrong ones. We're changing it anyway."

Wooshin, cause of my death in my past life, would thrive as a top corporation through 2019, 2020, 2021. In a world rife with injustice where rotten companies flourished, a little change wouldn't hurt.

"Right?"

"…Wrong history? What's that mean?"

If I'd planned to touch nothing but Wooshin, I shouldn't have left the prosecutors' office. Shouldn't have pushed my father to retire before arthritis. Shouldn't have opened this firm. I'd seen it as just changing my past.

But society's history is the sum of individuals'. Ultimately, I'd been reshaping it bit by bit.

"As long as I'm upright. Just avoid wrong actions and follow my conscience."

"Huh? Oh, yeah."

I wouldn't waver on dismantling Wooshin, and I'd already changed much for it. Even aiming at their vitals, I never strayed from justice.

"Kang."

"Yeah?"

"Check the portal—the top Jeong Hyejin article. There's a gapjil comment; like it or something."

"Gapjil? You wrote that? Wait, you coined it, right?"

"Didn't coin it, but anyway. Add some agreeing comments."

"Huh? Why suddenly?"

"You’re good at that stuff."

"Ha, true. I am pretty good."

He grinned slyly, stubbed out his cigarette, and headed inside. Sitting at his desk, he hammered the keyboard enthusiastically.

"Might be overthinking it."

I muttered, watching him from afar.

My current worries might be arrogant too. Right now, I needed to make the most of this second chance, like a gift. Not whine about not wanting to change history.

I read the morning paper that arrived today. In a society divided into A's (the powerful) and B's (the weak), the B's were starting to vent their rage at the powerful's abuses.

They shared their gapjil stories, stirring empathy and condemnation of the A's.

I set the paper down.

"Gapjil has to go."

Today was the day Na Eun-seong was visiting the office. I glanced at the tidy space and checked the fridge. Half a bottle of aloe juice left.

"Good morning."

Kang Minjae entered, convenience store bag in hand. He beelined for the fridge, stocking it with juices by type.

"Time for new clients, so gotta refill the fridge."

He might suit sales better than lawyering.

That afternoon, Na Eun-seong knocked. Her once-timid face glowed with life, perhaps from the brighter clothes. She looked great.

"Lawyer Cha!"

"Come in, Ms. Na."

Kang Minjae guided her to the sofa. As he reached for juice, she shook her head and set down coffee she'd brought.

"I'm so happy I can pay your success fee."

"We're glad it turned out well too."

She blushed at my words.

"Um, as you know, Pu-reun Island Media said they'd pay the damages in installments."

"That's fine. It's a huge sum; they can't pay at once. They promised 1 billion won monthly for five months. If they delay, we can enforce it—just let us know."

"Yes. Oh, Jeong Hyejin's side paid in full right away."

She placed a white envelope before me.

"Pu-reun Island made the first installment, and Jeong Hyejin's payment came too, so your full success fee is here."

"You need it more, Ms. Na. You could've held some back."

"No. You've worked so hard, and I'll get the second installment soon anyway."

I took the envelope. Checks totaling 1.7 billion won. Bold to carry that much cash-equivalent.

For a small firm like ours, a 1.7 billion success fee case was hilarious.

"Thank you."

"I deducted the profit share as you said. But if you change your mind…."

"No. It's all yours."

We reminisced about the case for a while. Time flew; Na Eun-seong checked her watch.

"Oh, have I overstayed?"

"Not at all."

"I'll head out. Oh, and…."

Grabbing her bag, she hesitated.

"Are you free for lunch this Saturday? Maybe grab a meal…."

Her voice trailed off. I glanced at Kang Minjae; he replied.

"Sure, he's free."

"N-no… I mean, just Lawyer Cha Juhan, sorry…."

I was flustered too. As I stared silently, she flushed crimson and bolted up.

"This Saturday, noon at Verdin restaurant across from the office. I'll be waiting!"

She fled like the wind.

Kang Minjae eyed me like what the hell? I had no clue what just happened.