Clack! Kang Se-heon, dressed in an expensive suit, stepped out of the sedan in the firm’s parking lot. He skillfully wedged his phone between his ear and shoulder. Then, carefully fastening the cufflinks on both sleeves, he strode forward with long, brisk steps.
Secretary Tak, who had been waiting in front of the elevator long before his arrival, received the briefcase from Se-heon. At the same time, he gestured toward the elevator he had already called. Se-heon stepped lightly inside, seeming to listen for a moment to the person on the other end of the call before opening his mouth sharply.
“If it’s that urgent, send it to the litigation team. I hardly handle lawsuits.”
—I know you occasionally take on litigation for people connected to you through advisory work. Can’t you do something?
“You should have shopped for a lawyer properly from the start. Do you grab anything just because you’re at a buffet? You start with what’s expensive and delicious.”
This client was the CEO of a semiconductor company who had become entangled in a civil lawsuit during asset formation through investments. It seemed he had chosen a law firm comparable in size to Doguk as his litigation counsel and lost big in the first trial. Since Se-heon would not take his calls, the man grew desperate, sending people for days on end to pester him, and Se-heon had been listening out of something akin to charity.
However, even after reaching him, when Se-heon remained indifferent, the man’s voice grew pleading.
—You know I wanted to hire Attorney Kang from the start. I even made contact. It’s just that our wives are close with the CEO there, and since I’m a businessman, I thought I should at least keep that much good faith. I’m trying to find my way back to the right path now. Let’s meet. Please?
Furrowing his brow, Se-heon gestured toward Secretary Tak. As if he had been waiting, Tak showed his phone schedule and pointed to a suitable date. Seeing that, Se-heon replied.
“Let’s make it the weekend. Come directly to the firm this Saturday at twelve. I’ll schedule a meeting. Before that, send the materials here, and they must include everything already disclosed, as well as hidden circumstances and evidence not revealed in court. It means I need to know how you built your fortune from one to nine. If anything is missing, I won’t take the case.”
—Yes, yes. I’ll only trust Senior Kang. Should I have the documents delivered by hand?
“You should. Oh, and if you’ve called three times with no callback, don’t call again. It’s not that I can’t answer; it’s that I won’t. I’m doing this only because it came to me first. I’ll hang up now.”
Having fired off those words coldly, he finished the call and flicked his phone over. At his glance, Secretary Tak caught it skillfully and opened his mouth.
“Given his age, a Hanwoo beef lunchbox should be suitable for him.”
“Do as you see fit. The related materials will probably arrive by courier tonight, so organize them neatly by section and leave them on my desk by noon tomorrow. Trial transcripts for the same case, too, by noon. Have one of the idle associates pull precedents.”
“Idle associates? Do we have those at our firm? Except for exactly one person.”
Knowing well what meaning was contained in that veiled question, Se-heon immediately refuted.
“Not Do Yun-shin. Find someone from another team’s juniors. If absolutely necessary, use interns.”
“Do you trust Attorney Do less than law students? Ah, right. Since he came up, this is additional material related to the case Attorney Do Yun-shin handled.”
The moment Se-heon snatched the documents from Secretary Tak’s hand, intending to add something—ding—the elevator arrived at their office floor.
He stepped out first, unfolded the thick documents, read their contents, and moved without hesitation toward his office. Secretary Tak followed at his side. Employees who spotted the two bowed respectfully to Se-heon. However, he ignored them all and threw a question at Tak.
“Did anything else come up?”
“No. It’s exactly as I reported last time. We shook everything out, but found nothing connecting the attorney and the construction company from either side. So I only organized the factual relationships.”
Of course, he had investigated separately through Secretary Tak, and had even summoned all junior lawyers of similar standing to Yun-shin for interviews, but found nothing. Even fellow lawyers worked in entirely different fields depending on whether they were at a large law firm or were human rights lawyers; none knew the details. Only rumors that he seemed quite competent at his work.
Nodding roughly, Se-heon carefully turned the pages one by one from the front, taking in the contents. The documents were packed with detailed records related to the cases Yun-shin had handled.
“It’s clean. Will you drop your suspicions now?”
“Quiet.”
“It’s a waste of manpower. And you hate wasting time and manpower more than anything.”
“You’d better shut up on your own before I say the same thing twice.”
Thanks to Secretary Tak, who pressed his lips tightly shut at the warning, the surroundings quieted somewhat. Se-heon scanned through the rest of the documents with his eyes.
*Unfair dismissal, Labor Standards Act violation, industrial accident……*
Though still small-fry level, the life trajectory of his mentor—Yun-shin’s father who had served as Minister of Justice—was quite similar. It seemed both father and son possessed a nature that could not stand by when someone was in an unfair situation.
He must take after his father.
Clicking his tongue, he tried to continue forward when suddenly an obstacle popped up in front of him. Startled, he raised his head to see Mi-hee blocking his way, waving two coffees in her hands.
“Our Senior Kang is as punctual as a knife. The other partners should learn from him.”
“Why are you like this in the morning.”
“I waited because I missed you too much.”
“I can’t accept a married woman’s heart. This industry has a code of honor. Move.”
“Kang Se-heon, not a single gap.”
As if to say he’d go around if she wouldn’t move, Se-heon passed by her cleanly and headed to his office. Reading his cue, Secretary Tak ran ahead and opened the firmly shut door, neatly placing the briefcase, phone, and documents on the desk.
Soon the room’s owner, Se-heon, entered the office and was about to sit at his station when again Mi-hee interfered, blocking his path. He furrowed his brow.
“Senior Song, if you have something to say, don’t linger and just say it. Don’t you know Monday mornings are my busiest?”
“Attorney Do Yun-shin—you haven’t called him to your room even once since his first day, even though it’s been almost a month. He’s your direct associate; if you’re not going to give him work, at least buy him a meal. Young ones on your team are precious.”
As if he had expected that topic, Se-heon’s brow furrowed slightly.
“I’m someone who squeezes out time to eat and holds meetings during that time.”
“Oh, you still have to do what you have to. For your information, I shop and have hobbies, too.”
“I gave him appropriate pro bono work; do I have to spoon-feed him, too? I said I have no interest in childcare.”
“Then at least buy him tea or something, hm? I know you a bit. I know your investigation is roughly done. Seeing you haven’t kicked him out means he passed the cut line. I don’t know what you’re still watching for, but I wish you’d chat with him. Even briefly. I need something to tell Director Do. He asks every time we talk, and I’m dying of embarrassment having nothing to say. I don’t ask for much. A cup of coffee. Huh? Coffee.”
“Don’t order me around. Get out.”
“Se-heon.”
“I have no sense of hierarchy or propriety; I yell at seniors, too. Leave while I’m asking nicely.”
“Your temper is fucking insane, anyway. I’m going, I’m going.”
Watching him like a younger brother who wouldn’t listen, she retreated a step. Then, as if leaving quietly, she quickly strode forward and placed the two coffees on his desk with a thud.
“I’ll wait for good news!”
As if he had even expected this, he stood there for a moment. Watching Mi-hee wave and leave, he took a deep breath one beat late. Then, finally about to sit at his desk, he saw the light brightly on in Yun-shin’s room and hesitated, wondering if he had already come in.
Soon after, Se-heon stared quietly at the two coffees placed on his desk. It was because one thing Mi-hee had said stuck with him.
*You haven’t called him to your room even once since his first day, even though it’s been almost a month?*
“One month. One month……”
Repeating the word and mulling it over, he picked up one of the two disposable cups.
Turning on his heel, he came out of his office and moved to the secretarial desk located between the two offices. The employees were chattering, unaware of Se-heon’s approach. They seemed to be excitedly discussing Mi-hee’s visit to his office that early morning. Unable to watch anymore, Se-heon clapped sharply. Secretary Tak, who spotted him first, jumped up.
“You startled me. S-Senior, is there anything else you need?”
“Tak, send all the materials I told you to prepare last week to Do Yun-shin’s room.”
“Both cases? Right now?”
“Should I do one tomorrow? I’ll just stand here waiting while you happily chat.”
“I misspoke. I’ll send them in immediately.”
Without even responding, Se-heon turned and flung open Yun-shin’s door. Yun-shin, who had been turning on his laptop, checked the visitor’s identity and jumped up, bowing at ninety degrees. Since it was Se-heon’s first visit to his room, he seemed quite surprised inwardly.
“Attorney, are you arriving at work now?”
“Did you enlist? At ease. Sit.”
Se-heon answered simply and came inside, standing before Yun-shin’s desk. Then he placed the coffee Mi-hee had given him on the table mat with a click, and stared fixedly at Yun-shin’s pale face. Naturally, Yun-shin’s intelligent eyes looked up at him, holding a bit of doubt.
“This is……”
“Coffee.”
“It looks like coffee to my eyes, too. Is there something you wish to say……”
“Drink that first.”
“Are you giving this to me?”
“Yeah. If you drink it, I think I’ll suffer less.”
Because Se-heon stared with a penetrating gaze, Yun-shin, unable to do anything, hurriedly took a sip of the coffee. Then he tilted his head.
“I don’t quite understand the subtext.”
“Someone is obviously going to nag me incessantly. Anyway, I’ve done my duty.”
His explanation was so vague that the exact reason was still unclear. Instead of asking further, Yun-shin slowly let his eyes rest on the black sleeve of the cup, then soon pulled it slightly toward himself. As if expressing thanks, he gave a slight nod, and Se-heon nodded roughly in return before sitting down, draping himself over the armrest of the guest sofa, and beginning to stare intently at Yun-shin.
The expression of the one being unilaterally subjected to his gaze was subtle. Because he couldn’t understand why Se-heon had barged in like this, he was bewildered; on the other hand, the gaze directed at him was so persistent and intense that he felt a bit shy and awkward.
Truthfully, staring openly at someone like this was quite a breach of manners. They had only met a few times, yet each time Se-heon had always been rude to him. However, since the perpetrator was Kang Se-heon, Yun-shin had no choice but to endure.
While thinking that, a thought suddenly flashed through his mind.
“Ah, I was thoughtless. I’ll go buy coffee for you right away.”
As Yun-shin half-rose, Se-heon immediately waved his hand firmly.
“Forget that. We haven’t written the contract yet. What salary were you promised?”
“I’m in my fourth year, but I’m not from a top-tier background, and mainly handled small cases, so there were almost no premium factors at entry. Our firm has a performance-based pay system from the third year, so at the second-year average. They said we’d renegotiate at year-end based on work…….”
“You tried to maintain industry boundaries even though you’re a parachute hire.”
Yun-shin neither affirmed nor denied, fiddling with the surface of the cup, when the half-open door gaped wide with a knock. Two unfamiliar staff members entered, each gripping the handle of a document cart.
They stacked the thickly piled documents neatly on the guest table, then bowed toward the calm Se-heon and bewildered Yun-shin before leaving the room.
Click. Once the door closed, Yun-shin’s gaze, intimidated by the enormous quantity of documents, lodged into Se-heon like a thrown dart.
“Senior, what is all that? You look like you know.”
“Two litigation cases sized for our firm’s third- and fourth-year juniors. One civil, one criminal.”
One of the main jobs of partner attorneys was bringing in cases. Major cases in their specialty or highly profitable ones they handled directly, but smaller cases were often passed down so associate attorneys could handle them solo. Many law firms had top-down structures for everything from decision-making to case acquisition. Thus, to associate attorneys, a partner attorney’s words functioned as a kind of law. Doguk did not seem much different.
Yun-shin easily guessed that these documents concerned cases Se-heon had brought in himself.
“These are those documents. Is there a case among them for me? Or both?”
Se-heon let out a hollow laugh, as if it were absurd.
“You want to litigate? Are you on the litigation team? You look more suited for it; should I send you?”
Yun-shin’s troubled lips closed slightly. Se-heon added.
“Unless you’re a blockhead, you must have roughly read the firm’s atmosphere over the past month. This is a primary test to judge whether you can earn your keep.”
“A test. Yes, what should I do?”
“I’ll give you two days. Don’t leave a single character unread—memorize everything. Then brief our team’s seniors who are unaware of these cases. They must understand everything from your report alone, and if they ask something, there must be no error in your information. Can you do it?”
He seemed to be judging how efficiently he could work in a short time. But two days was far too tight to digest that vast quantity of documents.
“All of this in two days? I also have pro bono materials to review. I took it over urgently and it’s currently in trial.”
Se-heon’s eyebrow twitched. He was far more accustomed to unconditional “Yes” answers. He stood up and approached Yun-shin again. Spreading both arms, he thumped them on the desk and bent his waist, roughly meeting Yun-shin’s gaze at an angle.
Their faces were quite close. Se-heon’s long eyes, neatly arranged on smooth skin, blinked slowly. That look seemed a bit sinister. Yun-shin’s flinching hand gripped the disposable cup tighter.
“Fourth year. I happen to have exceptionally good metacognition.”
“I roughly gather that.”
“And what’s most important to persuade a judge in court is that the initial testimony is maintained until the end.”
“I know that well, too.”
“Then why is a bastard who knows both those things acting like this. You said you’d stake your life. If you go back on your word, someone with excellent recall like me will get confused. Isn’t that right, fourth year?”
*I have to do well so that Noona can rest assured, so I’ll stake my life.*
Chewing over words he had spoken himself, Yun-shin had neither excuse nor grounds to protest.
“I’m sorry. I can do it.”
Though it was hardly satisfactory, it seemed an answer Se-heon could accept nonetheless. He leisurely straightened his waist and looked down at Yun-shin from an overwhelming angle. No expression was clearly visible on his face. However, underlying it was a self-assuredness that at a glance felt like arrogance. A life of nothing but victory, achieved through every possible means, must have made the man he was now.
Thanks to that, Yun-shin, facing him from below, briefly judged that Kang Se-heon was surely the person in the world who best suited looking down on others. It seemed he would never know loneliness or humiliation even if he died and came back to life.
At that moment. For some reason, the thought occurred to him that he’d like to see, just once, a moment when pain from defeat showed on his face. Yun-shin had never had occasion to imagine someone else’s suffering. Finding this self strange, he shook his head hard internally.
Whether he knew Yun-shin was lost in idle thoughts and unable to concentrate on the conversation, Se-heon snapped his fingers right before his eyes.
“Two days later, morning, this time. Main conference room. Further questions?”
“Ah, do I just do a summary briefing in front of you? Answer the senior attorneys’ questions?”
“I only tossed these cases to another team, so I’m not interested. Not going. Accuracy must be infinitely close to one hundred percent, and the time from when the question leaves their mouth to when the answer leaves yours must not exceed two seconds. Ultimately the seniors will score you, and based on that your value will be judged. If it’s acceptable, your salary will be re-adjusted to the fourth-year average.”
“What if it’s not acceptable?”
“No confidence?”
“No. Um, can’t you come too, Attorney?”
Se-heon seemed utterly unable to understand this request disguised as a question. His main reason for not attending the test and only receiving the results was to avoid wasting time on useless things, but there was also a slight intention to give this experienced new hire some breathing room.
“I’m someone who works in ten-minute time sheet units.”
“I know. It’s only a little time. I won’t take much.”
“Is this fearlessness or shamelessness.”
“I want to check your style too, Attorney. You’re almost always in the building, but too busy to see.”
For a moment Se-heon’s eyes narrowed. Soon his expression became one of peering inside a very sturdy castle gate, and he asked coldly.
“You’ve lost your mind. How dare you—what do you think you’re doing?”
“It’s not that I’m presumptuously trying to appraise your value. But I need to know what appeals so I can train that part. I know I’m not to your liking. But since I’ve decided to stick it out here, I have to serve Attorney Kang, and I really want to do well.”
“You’ll regret it. I’m picky. I’ll dock points.”
“Regret is something all humans experience.”
It seemed to mean he was fully prepared. Since he seemed to want to be cornered, the ill-tempered Se-heon had no reason not to spare a little time for an amusing spectacle.
However, Yun-shin’s attitude subtly kept grating on him. Clearly the other party was taking a low, groveling posture. Yet strangely, the stubbornness and stiffness behind it were felt completely intact. That very self looked like a sign that would turn his insides upside down in the future.
Grinding his teeth, he impulsively moved his arm. Long, straight fingers like hooks grabbed Yun-shin’s neat tie. As he pulled the soft fabric, Yun-shin’s lean upper body was dragged without resistance toward Se-heon.
“Urk, Attorney?”
Even now they were quite close, but it seemed not close enough for Se-heon. Looking down at Yun-shin high-handedly, he leaned his upper body, bringing their faces closer.
The chill gaze staring at the pale face had a cold, sharp edge.
Yun-shin’s cheeks paled in confusion from the tension rising from his waist.
“Why are you acting like this all of a sudden… Did I make some mistake?”
Despite the careful question, Se-heon remained silent. Instead, he wedged his middle finger into the narrow knot of the tie. Then he pulled the cloth down.
In the end, he completely loosened the tie that had hung neatly around Yun-shin’s neck. Once his neat appearance became slightly disheveled, he seemed finally satisfied and flicked the thin cloth to the floor.
Only then could Yun-shin hear Se-heon’s voice.
“Why don’t I like you so much.”
Somehow it seemed he, too, couldn’t find the exact reason, so Yun-shin couldn’t ask why.
He merely swallowed dryly, adjusted his clothes, and forced himself to answer calmly.
“I’ll try to develop parts you’ll like from now on.”
And watching this calm reaction, Se-heon felt his insides twist instead.
He could easily guess the thought process in that head. Having roughly checked Yun-shin’s life trajectory, it was all the easier to understand. Do Yun-shin, who had probably been a good person to everyone his whole life, would not have often felt hostile emotions from others.
Since most people already felt favorable toward him, even if Se-heon alone disliked him while saying bad things, he would be uncomfortable but not deeply hurt.
In short, it meant he wasn’t very interested in Se-heon’s feelings aimed at him.
“I like you even less.”
“Do you hate everything I do?”
“I’m not interested enough to hate.”
Disliking someone was also an act of consuming one’s own heart. Thus Se-heon did not hate the parents who had abandoned him and left first, nor the adults who had pushed him around in childhood, nor the business associates who treated him like an enemy and cursed to return as much as they had given. “Did not pay attention” was a more accurate expression.
But everything about Yun-shin strangely grated. To be precise, rather than dislike, it very much got on his nerves.
Inevitably, an old memory slipped into a corner of his mind like light, squeezing through a tightly packed space.
A funeral hall shabby compared to the renown in life, diverse mourners, Director Do Yi-kyung greeting guests with a steadfast demeanor.
And someone wearing the chief mourner’s armband, crying in a place with no people.
*I’m really sorry, but please stay with me for a moment. I can’t be alone.*
That day the two had shared a very short time without saying a word to each other.
I wonder if Do Yun-shin remembers that.
“What should I fix? If you tell me in detail……”
Yun-shin’s voice was heard for a moment. Se-heon’s mind, which had been chewing over the past, filled again with present problems. His face, which had nearly loosened, hardened stiffly again.
“Then do you want to quit now?”
“No. I’m sorry.”
“Just do what you’re told.”
As if he didn’t want to be here a moment longer, Se-heon turned his back first. With the momentum of kicking the door open at any second, Yun-shin reflexively jumped up. At the same time, as if he had something left to say, Se-heon looked back. His sharp gaze pierced straight into Yun-shin, making his lean body flinch.
“I’ll attend the test too.”
Though his tone was cold, he had ultimately accepted the request. Yun-shin, who had been tense, moved his lips and answered sincerely.
“Thank yo……”
But before the greeting could finish, he turned again.
Slam. The door closed.
“……u.”
The slender back view that always looked splendid no matter when seen disappeared from sight in an instant. Chasing its lingering image beyond the glass window as a sorry substitute, Yun-shin secretly observed Se-heon’s upright, steady gait. Then, seeing him stop briefly in front of the secretarial desk to give Tak some instructions, he quickly ducked down, afraid he might look back.
Crouching, he picked up the tie that had fallen innocently to the floor and put it back on his neck, feeling a bit wronged.
“He likes me even less… What does he mean he doesn’t like. Did I make a mistake? No. Or at least give me a chance to talk before hating me.”
After being left alone for nearly a month, his sudden appearance and words had muddled Yun-shin’s mind.
The circumstances of how he came to work here were not exactly honorable, and since it was natural for anyone to have someone who grated on their eyes, he had accepted Se-heon’s discomfort as just one of those things. Yun-shin, too, understood that feeling of not liking Se-heon very much even though he hadn’t done anything particularly wrong.
However, having watched from the side for a month, there was much to learn from him. Rumors circulating in the industry seemed somewhat exaggerated; according to people, he committed bad deeds daily or was immersed in pleasure, but unexpectedly he stayed cooped up in the office working.
He was buried in an unmanageable amount of documents all day, yet constantly drafted opinions and reports. Even so, he allotted fixed times to hold repeated meetings with case managers and foreign attorneys, and squeezed out more time to meet clients.
He even clocked in on time and worked overtime almost daily. The only difference from associate attorneys was that on weekends, he rested sharply for two full days.
*Does he date on weekends? Long-distance relationship? He gives off the image of having a gyopo girlfriend in the US.*
Muttering internally without much thought, Yun-shin finished tying the tie and sat down, then hesitated. He imitated what Se-heon had done earlier, sliding his finger into the narrow gap and pulling it down. He tried to loosen the tightly knotted part as skillfully as Se-heon, but it wasn’t easy at all.
In the process, the absurd thought that skin might touch the same spot sparked like fireworks.
*So what if it touches.*
He hurriedly removed his hand and corrected his posture, but felt intensely ashamed of having been conscious of another man’s touch.
*Will he eventually marry a suitable woman?*
He couldn’t imagine that man, who seemed to consider love the most useless thing in the world, forming a harmonious family. So he was all the more curious. If the timing worked out, he might even be invited to his wedding.
Chewing on these thoughts, he suddenly wondered why he was curious about such meaningless things. He soon shifted his gaze to the documents filling the guest table. Staring blankly at the piled white papers, he felt daunted anew.
“For now, let’s focus on this.”
Having urgently pulled over an acrylic whiteboard and a small timer, Yun-shin placed them in suitable spots beside the table. Putting everything he had to do for the pro bono case on hold, he moved his seat over there entirely. He separated the civil and criminal cases among the piled documents, then began speed-reading from the left.
His supervising attorney was going to evaluate him, and he intended to show off by getting the highest score.
* * *
Straightening up with a snap after having his head buried in documents all day, Yun-shin massaged the back of his neck with his palm as if pressing down on it. He could feel the muscles were stiff and taut. To make matters worse, his eyelids were slowly drooping.
“I’m dying.”
Glancing outside the window to check if there was staff on duty to ask for coffee, he sighed seeing the darkened space. The time was 1 a.m.
A law firm’s time was not divided into morning and afternoon, or day and night. There were two kinds: when the attorney was at work, and when the attorney was not.
Though it was the dead of night now, lights were still on in parts of the building. Only there were more darkened spaces than a few hours prior. The seventh floor, where he was, was one of the royal floors used by teams that were the firm’s main cash cows, such as finance and corporate law. Inevitably, many mid-level attorneys were stationed there, so except during crises of individual cases, it was generally darker compared to other floors.
Two days after joining, Yun-shin had realized his room assignment was wrong. Because he had been given the room across from Se-heon, bypassing the team’s senior attorneys.
Since it was Senior Song Mi-hee who had ordered this arrangement, Yun-shin could only guess that she had taken a gamble placing him in Se-heon’s immediate vicinity. Judging from Se-heon not saying much, he supposed it was his noona’s request. So he had complied for now.
“Ugh, this is impossible.”
Rising, Yun-shin went out to the pantry.
Squeak. Blinding light escaped through the half-open door crack as if fleeing by its tail.
While Yun-shin walked to the end of the hall, there was the sound of footsteps thudding from the opposite corridor of the seventh floor. It was Se-heon, who had left the building around 9 p.m. for an emergency client meeting.
He had returned briefly to the office because he left something behind. He noticed at once that the light in Yun-shin’s room was still on and the door was half open. Reflexively, he followed the light.
Opening the door wide, records organizing the case flow chronologically on both sides of the acrylic whiteboard were visible straight ahead. Written like a chronology, key points were recorded beneath them in a neatness reminiscent of model students’ note-taking habits. Prosecution’s pre-trial documents, the firm’s rebuttal, and the prosecution’s counter-rebuttal—all evidence and points of dispute were recorded in the simplest possible language.
Even to Se-heon, who only had a rough understanding of the case without knowing details, the flow was visible at a glance. To put it a bit grandly, it seemed he could enter the court and argue having memorized this.
The time he had given Yun-shin was only two days. If he had read thousands of pages alone and accomplished this much, what had to be acknowledged must be acknowledged.
“B plus?”
As if grading a test, he stared at the whiteboard quietly, then slightly revised the score.
“No, A minus.”
Entering the room leisurely, he grabbed one set of documents collected around the table. The first page showed that Yun-shin had attempted to draft opinions on evidence consent and objections for each case trial.
“But the mindset is still that of an outsider. How am I supposed to teach this.”
He muttered lowly, just as he was about to unfold the back page further.
Click-click. The low sound of someone’s approaching heels was heard. Feeling a presence, Se-heon turned his gaze toward the door. Startled by the unexpected guest, Yun-shin gripped his mug cup tightly and opened his eyes round. Perhaps because he had washed up while at it, his face was whiter than usual, like a child’s fair flesh.
“Attorney Kang? How are you here at this hour… I thought you’d go straight home after the external meeting.”
“Fourth year. Not going home?”
“Ah, yes. I think I’ll have to pull an all-nighter here today. My eyelids were getting heavy so I went to wash up. But are you going to keep calling me ‘fourth year’? I have a name, too. At this rate everyone will forget my name.”
He laughed “pfft” as if mocking.
“I’m trying my best to be polite because I’m shy.”
“By calling me fourth year instead of my name?”
“Anyway, nobody at this firm calls your name. Everyone calls you parachute.”
It had been a month since he joined. During that time, no one had approached him first, so initially he had wondered if the firm’s atmosphere was aloof. But encountering repeated situations where people whispered while looking at him in the cafeteria, he realized that wasn’t it. He was being ostracized here. Just as Se-heon said, because he was a parachute hire.
“I suspected as much. Secretary Tak said they circulated my profile on every floor of the building on my first day. Should I ask to move rooms after all?”
“Solve that yourself. And if you want to be called by name, surprise me.”
“It’s somewhat interesting that you occasionally know your place, unlike a young master.”
“That will take some time.”
Without hesitation, Se-heon strode toward Yun-shin. For some reason, Yun-shin instinctively stepped back. Before he knew it, his back touched the wall. The door beside him was still wide open.
Finally, Se-heon’s large hand, right in front of him, sharply closed the door Yun-shin’s gaze had been on.
Slam. Left alone in the sealed space, Yun-shin felt the air in this room was strangely heavy.
He had done something like this without warning before, too. Perhaps because unlike other times, there was now no outsider nearby who would check on what happened inside.
Nervous, Yun-shin stared blankly at Se-heon before him. Ignoring that gaze, Se-heon reached out his fingertips at will and touched Yun-shin’s lush eyelashes. Perhaps because a bit of moisture had gathered on them, he pressed the dampness on his ring finger firmly onto Yun-shin’s lips and wiped.
“Uh, what are you……”
Startled by the sudden contact, Yun-shin lost his grip on the mug handle and dropped it to the floor.
Crash!
The cup spun like a top losing kinetic energy, then eventually fell on its side and poured out black coffee. The trickling liquid soaked the floor at both their feet. Seeing that, Yun-shin tried to wipe the pooled coffee with a tissue, but Se-heon stretched his hand forward and controlled his movement.
“Don’t move. My business isn’t finished.”
“But I think I should wipe this first.”
“I set the priorities. Associates follow my orders.”
With that arrogant answer, he grabbed Yun-shin’s smooth jaw and lightly lifted it up, examining the still-moist area around his eyes more carefully and meticulously. That gaze was incomparably stubborn and tenacious. Thanks to that, Yun-shin felt all his nerves contract at every spot Se-heon’s gaze touched.
Why is this person doing this.
He couldn’t understand why Se-heon appeared out of nowhere and acted this way.
Feeling embarrassed at being explored, he tried hard to suppress his mortification internally when Se-heon asked languidly.
“You’re bloodshot. Why?”
“Well. Maybe because I’m tired.”
“Is that all?”
“Should there be more?”
“I’m not sure either. You should know your own business.”
Narrowing his eyes, Se-heon let go of his jaw as if shaking it off. Yet his gaze remained fixed on the pale face. Those sharp eyes momentarily faced Yun-shin, and suddenly a hypothesis flashed through Yun-shin’s mind.
*Could he remember what happened back then?*
Come to think of it, he had jumped to conclusions; Se-heon had never said he didn’t remember.
A few years ago when they first met, Yun-shin had been crying sorrowfully. And Se-heon had leaned against the wall beside him and stayed by his side for quite a while. Without even knowing each other’s names. He had probably guessed Yun-shin was the director’s son seeing him in mourning clothes, but Yun-shin had only realized he was “that” Kang Se-heon much later while searching old newspaper articles. He couldn’t believe it then.
Feeling bewildered, Yun-shin swallowed dryly. Then, to somehow reverse this strange atmosphere, he brought out everything in his head.
“B-Attorney. When I was in law school, I once prepared for a mock trial on management rights-related crimes and saw a precedent. It was a savings bank CEO’s breach of trust. The one that caused a national uproar about five years ago… Everyone expected a prison sentence, but you eventually got a suspended sentence.”
Bringing up another topic urgently, Se-heon soon seemed to lose interest in the water remaining in his own eyes and stepped back a few paces, leaning obliquely against the partition. Then he nodded lightly. Relieved, Yun-shin added.
“I’ve always been curious. How did you bring out the co-owner who was hiding overseas? Looking into that case, the prosecution seemed to think the co-owner would absolutely never appear as a witness. Because if he testified, a fatal accounting mistake he made would be revealed, and he’d be indicted instead of the CEO.”
Se-heon’s complexion, which had been listening silently, changed to a subtle hue.
The times when he had handled that case swept through his mind like a panorama.
What is needed to move others is not tremendous eloquence or great persuasion techniques. What is truly useful is weakness. Those with much to protect sometimes become strong themselves, but usually they become weak. Family, wealth, or honor are examples.
Se-heon had no family since a very young age. He thought possessing wealth and honor would be convenient, but he didn’t crave them. Having nothing to guard was how he had gotten this far. Perhaps he hadn’t loved anything in order to climb to the top. But what of it. Everyone only remembered the result.
“By doing what people like you would never do.”
And it was also a method Yun-shin would have to learn if he was going to be under him. However, Se-heon deliberately didn’t say that far.
“Did you provide compensation? That seems the easiest.”
As if leaving it to the realm of infinite imagination, he closed his mouth. Yun-shin, staring at that very beautiful face without a hint of guilt, felt certain his guess was right. He soon let out a bitter voice.
“You did. This is a place that does bad things, just as I thought.”
“It’s a place to make money. What’s important is that I brought the co-owner to court, no?”
“But it’s still something a lawyer shouldn’t do. Because of that, the co-owner took on all the CEO’s crimes and received a prison sentence. What about his life? If you were going to put him there, the method should have been just at the very least.”
“He was sentenced according to his sins. I saved my client, separate from that.”
“No. As far as I know he got almost double due to contempt charges. And you must have known it would turn out that way. You ran simulations and stood him there, so he’s a sacrificial substitute. The fact that the co-owner also had sins must have made quite a good shield for you.”
The sharp rallying continued until Se-heon suddenly cut off Yun-shin’s words. He was used to it by now.
“Stop. I had a feeling you’d be exactly like this. This is why I opposed it. I hate kids like you.”
“Pathetic. Fourth-year, stake that life you already staked.”
“Attorney Kang?”
Just as he had come suddenly, he turned again. The insolent attitude, willful as the wind, suited Kang Se-heon—who looked like nothing in life could rough him up—perfectly. He left Yun-shin’s room without hesitation. Then he stopped by his own office, turned the lights on fully, and as if grabbing