After the weekend had passed, Seheon, having arrived at work, powered on his laptop first. He then asked Secretary Tak for a cup of coffee and was pulling documents out of his bag when he was confronted with a screen unlike any other.
His office was fitted with an entry sensor. If anyone entered while he was away from the company, the camera would immediately rotate to film the interior. It was an internal policy set by the law firm to reduce the risk of information leakage from the partners, as it was an environment where any employee could infiltrate the office if they simply set their mind to it.
He wasn't foolish enough to leave truly important information in his office, but still, there was always the possibility of "just in case." Since basic cleaning and organizing had to be done, it was impossible to control everyone, so it had been installed as a matter of course under the pretext of preparing for the intrusion of an unfamiliar person. And most people at this firm knew this fact. It was because the other partners had all done the same after obtaining their consent.
‘3 AM?’
There were two notifications at the bottom right of the screen. Usually, the janitors cleaned this place around 6 AM, so it was normal for exactly one notification to appear around that time daily. But today was different. While his card key was not inserted, someone else—another person—had come and gone.
This was the first time since last year, when an employee had come back in to retrieve cleaning tools they had left behind. Seheon quickly accessed the internal program and played the footage from around 3 AM.
Even in the darkness, a hazy figure was visible.
It was Yunshin.
He let out a hollow laugh, dumbfounded.
“Well, look at this bastard.”
Yunshin entered the room with a determined air and turned on a flashlight. Then he began to look around the room here and there, diligently. It was as if he were searching for something. On a hunch, Seheon turned up the volume, and he could hear the sounds of footsteps, muttering, and the like.
“It’s strangely lonely here. Does the room take after its owner?”
While Seheon furrowed his brow in disbelief, Yunshin, cradling a thread-like light in the darkness, approached the desk and examined the desk calendar. And that wasn't all. He shone the light in the direction of his own office, stretched his hand over it, and made shadows on the wall, appearing to be having quite an enjoyable time.
“Is this a playground? Give him an inch and he doesn't know when to stop.”
Grinding his teeth with a gnash, Seheon was just pressing the intercom button to summon Secretary Tak when—
Yunshin's distressed voice continued, making him hesitate.
“I mean, I’d have to find some weakness to grab onto so I can cling to him and beg him to help me, please.”
Staring blankly at the screen, the intruder who had barged into his room without warning pulled out some documents from the desk, looked at them for less than a few minutes, tidied the surroundings, and went back outside. Seheon, his brow deeply furrowed, stared intently at the short footage that had already ended. A complicated glint flashed across his coldly cooled eyes.
Do Yunshin wasn't stupid; he would know well that Seheon wouldn't leave anything important enough to be worth the risk of breaking in to steal. Nevertheless, the fact that he had entered and looked around despite knowing it was an irrational act meant he either had a reason he had to carry out regardless, or he needed to fulfill some kind of desperate wish based on it.
‘Help me… with what?’
Tap, tap. As he drummed on the desk, chewing over the recorded words in the footage, the scene from a few days ago when he had seen Yunshin crying near his house replayed in his mind like a panorama.
Seheon raised the blinds of the hallway-side window, which had been drawn all the way down. Then, the figure of Yunshin across the large window was immediately revealed. With a receiver in one ear and a cell phone wedged in the opposite ear, he looked extremely busy, his hands moving wildly as he spoke.
Soon, he set down one receiver and poured his energy into the phone call. Perhaps because the conversation wasn't going well, he half-rose from his seat and continued speaking, then seemed to notice Seheon watching from across the way and bowed respectfully. Seheon did not respond but merely kept his eyes on Yunshin.
Yunshin smiled awkwardly, looking slightly flustered. He clearly had something on his conscience. It was a natural reaction, as he probably hadn't told many lies in his life. Knowing this well, Seheon merely continued to stare fixedly at him.
“You must feel guilty. After all, you've committed a crime.”
The voice leaked through his slowly parted lips but failed to reach Yunshin. Seeing him tilt his head as if to ask, “What?” based on the shape of his mouth, Seheon soon shook his head. Then, to Yunshin, who seemed confused about whether to focus on this side or pay attention to his call, he gestured as if to say “Get to work,” and yanked the blinds shut with a snap.
With his vision cut off, Seheon's gaze was drawn down like flowing water to the statue of Lady Dike on his desk.
“What am I going to do with this.”
He had two options he could take right now.
“Left is to pretend ignorance and let it slide for now; right is to expose it to the world and crush him.”
He bit his lip, placing his fingertip on the moving scale held in one hand of the Lady Dike statue. Then, as if leaving the choice to the goddess, he smoothly pushed the round object.
Creak, creak. Like a spinning top whipped by a lash, the model diligently swayed left and right. As if gauging which side weighed more, it went back and forth several times. But just when it seemed to be getting to work, its stamina soon ran out, and it stopped after moving a few times. Moreover, it happened to tilt further toward the right side of the goddess. Seeing its position, he slightly furrowed his brows.
“Crush him.”
With an inscrutable expression, he nudged it once more, a bit harder this time, to give it one more chance.
Creak, creak. The scale moved again, emitting sharp sounds, then slowly came to a stop. Yet again, the model halted at a position slightly to the right of the more tilted goddess statue. Watching the scale with a complicated expression, Seheon stretched out his long finger and tapped it once more.
“The gods aren't on your side, Do Yunshin.”
He instinctively felt that constantly discovering the sides of Yunshin that the latter wanted to hide was not something he could simply overlook. He also sensed that if he recklessly intervened, his own affairs might become tangled. This was not a mere feeling, but a cold judgment based on a sense of reality.
Thus, the problem was not Yunshin, but on his own side, the one holding the choice. He could just ignore everything as he had always done to others, but it wasn't easy.
Why did his eyes keep drifting toward him?
What was so special about him?
While Seheon was furrowing his brow, a knock sounded from outside.
“It's open.”
Creak. The door opened cautiously at the same time as his response. Without even looking toward the door, Seheon continued speaking.
“Go down to the infirmary and get me some headache medicine. My head's been throbbing a lot lately.”
“Do you have a headache?”
He had assumed the visitor was naturally Secretary Tak, but it wasn't. Yunshin, who seemed to have finished his call at some point, was standing there holding the coffee that had been requested of Secretary Tak instead. Leaning back comfortably against his chair, Seheon quietly gazed at Yunshin standing in the doorway. At that, the other man shrugged his shoulders.
“Um, may I come in for a moment?”
“Since when do you enter my room with permission?”
At the meaningful tone, Yunshin seemed flustered and his cheeks flushed slightly. He looked ashamed, and at the same time, somewhat apologetic.
He guessed that Yunshin, with his honest personality, wanted to apologize for what had happened in his office at 3 AM last Saturday. However, now that Seheon was sending him a cold gaze, he seemed hesitant to bring it up readily, his lips twitching. It was understandable. Entering an empty room without permission and spending time there was a very rude act. And Seheon was not so merciful.
His voice, cold as ice, pierced into Yunshin.
“Is this about work?”
“Ah, no, it's not.”
“Then put that down and get out.”
Even after the single command, Yunshin showed no signs of moving. Instead, he hesitated with his words.
“Um, Chief.”
Seheon cut him off immediately. The end of his voice cracked slightly.
“I said put it down and get out. I'm not in a state to listen to you right now. I'm tired, and looking at you irritates me.”
The moment he heard those words, the pallor of Yunshin's face subtly changed to a look of concern. When it reached Seheon, it translated into a tactile sensation that made his skin tingle.
Those honest eyes would one day return as shackles binding his own ankles.
Such an instinctive feeling surged within him.
“Does your head hurt a lot? Shall I go down to the infirmary and get you some medicine? Or perhaps it would be good if you got an IV drip.”
The cause of his headache was Yunshin. It's just that Seheon had no prescription for it.
“Are you going to make me say the same thing three times? Fend for yourself. Don't be a nuisance.”
When Seheon reacted sensitively, Yunshin finally approached the desk quickly and placed the coffee down in front of him. Soon after, he exited the office politely. Before closing the door at the end, he looked back once, apparently still concerned, but Seheon's attitude was so firm that it ended there.
Click. After the door closed and he was alone again, Seheon stared intently at the disposable cup Yunshin had left behind, lost in thought. His strict, and in some ways somewhat dogmatic, deep-set eyes fixed precisely upon it. His expression was not good.
His life had always had a logical structure. Nothing ever deviated from it. Having nothing since childhood, he had to figure out for himself how to survive in the jungle. After tasting true victory once, the thrill drove him to research ways to win and claw his way up to this point. Everything had a beginning, an end, a cause, and a result.
But whenever he became entangled with Yunshin, he felt those structures blur.
It had been that way from the start. Without any special reason, Yunshin had rubbed Seheon the wrong way. Swept along by that, he occasionally did things he'd never done before in his life. He had ambiguously accepted the other person into his domain as if glossing it over, and now he was even worrying about someone else, something he had never done even once before.
Seheon looked again at the scale of the Dike statue and raised his index finger. Then he touched the scale.
Creak, creak.
The unpleasant metallic sound rang out several times. And this time, the scale model finally stopped dissipating its kinetic energy at the slight left side of the goddess statue.
“Pretend not to know and let it slide for now….”
Soon after, he flicked the blade tip on the opposite side of the goddess statue, and only then did he spread his documents wide open with a look of satisfaction.
* * *
Through the window of Conference Room A at the law firm, Yunshin could be seen talking with a client. The other party seemed to be a lawyer affiliated with the legal team of some corporation. Perhaps because of that lawyer's oddly flushed and pale complexion, even though no sound could be heard from outside, the quite ominous atmosphere inside was vividly felt from without.
Yunshin, only the back of his head visible, was the exact opposite of his counterpart's attitude. Sitting composed, he presented various documents and continued to persuade tenaciously.
All of this was being carefully watched by Seheon, who was sitting on a table outside.
Judging by his all-out effort in everything, he definitely had stamina, and from observation, his head wasn't bad either. There were frustrating parts, but those were merely style differences, and he was quick on the uptake, so it seemed he would do well with proper teaching.
‘Shall I start using him?’
It was then, as he stood with his arms crossed in a thoughtful attitude, continuing to observe Yunshin.
Swish. He sensed a presence near his elbow. Glancing back, he found Secretary Tak holding out a mug of warm coffee. Seheon took it and calmly savored its aroma and taste.
“I wondered what you were looking at, suddenly coming out here. It's Attorney Do?”
“Not the fourth-year. I'm watching the negotiation of a fourth-year.”
“Just how much is that information you gave Attorney Do worth?”
“You'd get hurt if you knew.”
“It must be incredibly expensive.”
“Well, drop it. How much did that lawyer come with?”
Secretary Tak, who had settled down right beside him, answered diligently.
“I don't know the exact amount yet. But from what I heard when I briefly went in to bring you tea earlier, it seems to be in the tens of millions of won. Consolation money, the victim's living expenses for the past few months, employment preparation expenses for the next half-year, and perhaps a small hush fee. A public apology or withdrawing the lawsuit is separate.”
He silently listened to Secretary Tak as he drank his tea, then soon narrowed his eyes and fixed his gaze on Yunshin's pale cheek, which was faintly visible.
“Tens of millions… It seemed he was being quite aggressive, pricking here and there, but if he came with that amount knowing full well, it means they thoroughly underestimated a fourth-year.”
“The rumor that we brought in an in-law of the Suhan Group has spread throughout the industry. I think they judged that he's a parachute hire, so he must be incompetent.”
His pride must have been badly hurt by such treatment, but contrary to expectations, Yunshin was responding to the other party very composedly. The look in Seheon's eyes subtly shifted to one of curiosity, as if he were watching an exciting sports match.
“I wonder how much he can haggle for.”
“How far are you thinking, Chief?”
“Well. Since there's no fixed standard for settlement money, it depends on how much the representative can get. If the fourth-year resolves it modestly within the tens of millions that lawyer brought, instead of turning the client's life around, don't report separately to me and send him to the litigation team. Slap a label on him as a flunkey, too.”
“What's the passing mark?”
“Ten times.”
Secretary Tak slightly turned his body sideways and smiled lightly.
“So this was the final test. If it were you, Attorney, how much would you get?”
“I haven't calculated either, so I don't know. If I went into that room, I'd intimidate them into something around several billion won?”
Hearing this answer, Seheon sensed movement beside him as if the other person was greatly startled.
“What are you doing, acting so frivolously.”
“Just what did you give him? The other side's offer is already an exceptionally enormous amount compared to the average settlement for similar crimes.”
He merely shrugged his shoulders instead of answering.
“Wow… I thought it was a simple pro bono, but it was quite a big case. No wonder Attorney Gang suddenly said he'd take all the pro bono cases. You'd been holding onto that information since a long time ago, right? A familiar person was the suspect in that case. Right.”
“I happened to pick it up a few years ago while helping Partner Song prepare a lawsuit. I thought it was a card I'd inevitably discard back then, but I didn't know I'd use it like this. It's a bit late, but it'll be worth the money.”
Secretary Tak nodded as if to say, ‘I thought so,’ then blurted something out of the blue.
“Still, isn't Attorney Do exceeding expectations?”
“I don't know what you're talking about. I don't recall ever meeting someone who exceeded my expectations in my life.”
“He took what you gave him and is digesting it well, isn't he? Honestly, I thought he'd be a very stubborn type at first, but he's surprisingly flexible. He's really putting that to use. Even the secretarial office had a bet. Whether he'd never do it because he's a human rights lawyer upholding his lofty pride in solitude, or he could do it.”
“Did you bet on it?”
“It looks like I'll win everything.”
His gaze, which had seemed to turn toward Secretary Tak for a moment, was soon fixed on Yunshin beyond the conference room again. Secretary Tak, who had been observing Seheon's careful side profile attentively, watched inside with him as if curious about what on earth he was looking at in Yunshin.
“Do you trust him, or not? Seeing that you even gave him materials through your own investigator, it seems like you trust him, but seeing that you went so far as to give him that just to check whether he'd step onto the easy path or not, it also seems like the opposite.”
“I neither trust nor distrust him. I'm simply checking whether this fourth-year has a proper head on his shoulders. Whether his IQ meets the human average or not.”
“You're harsh. Since he passed the second test without trouble, give him some praise too.”
Secretary Tak was mostly right. Though he had made various excuses, what Seheon had really wanted to see was whether Yunshin would actually utilize the dangerous-looking, sourceless materials he had sent him. In Seheon's eyes, Yunshin still couldn't let go of the person he had been outside the fence. Unlike other associate attorneys who were desperate to land profitable cases by any means, Yunshin alone continued to be satisfied with pro bono.
So he wanted to see whether Yunshin was ready to spray paint onto a white canvas, whether he truly meant it when he said he was. And this was, for Seheon, a fairly soft method that took into consideration the other person's disposition and temperament.
“I brought it right to his lips. He just opened his mouth. But do I have to praise him just for chewing well?”
“Because it's Attorney Do, not anyone else. He had the courage to assimilate into our firm. But if you don't say a word of praise, Chief, wouldn't his morale fail to rise?”
“If parenting is your hobby, you take him and raise him.”
Secretary Tak smiled softly as if to say that wouldn't be bad either. Then, glancing at the employees behind them, he lowered the frequency of his voice compared to earlier and asked cautiously.
“I've been wanting to ask this. Is the person you're interested in Attorney Do, or his noona?”
Seheon, who had taken a sip of the warm coffee, let out a hollow laugh.
“What nonsense is this now. The former is a man, and the latter is a married woman, no?”
“You know you've been acting strange lately, right? Asking me to look into things out of personal curiosity, or suddenly stepping out in the middle of work without a moment's rest to watch a far junior colleague's negotiation. It's the first time I've seen you take interest in someone and look after them one by one. Really, why are you like this?”
It certainly was strange. Seheon was someone who worked by slicing his time into minutes. Stopping what he was doing and coming out to do this in the middle was nonsensical even to him. Perhaps that was why he kept feeling the gazes of the employees behind him glancing at the back of his head.
Yunshin, still several meters ahead, was diligently continuing discussions with the other party. Then, perhaps because compromise was utterly impossible, he turned his head and let out a deep sigh.
However, it seemed that slight display of displeasure from Yunshin, who had been consistently polite, pushed the opposing representative's buttons. The middle-aged man gesticulated at Yunshin and huffed angrily.
Having seen this, Secretary Tak asked Seheon anxiously.
“Shouldn't we stop this? Shall I go in?”
“Stay still. That table is Do Yunshin's.”
The pupils of Seheon, who was calmly drinking his coffee, stared clearly beyond the conference room. His lips were set stubbornly, as if he wouldn't miss a single moment inside. Secretary Tak quietly observed his side profile. Soon, realizing that his beautiful face with its smoothly clean lines bore an air different from usual, he tilted his head.
“You really take caaaare of him?”
“He gives me a headache.”
A suddenly context-defying answer flashed across Secretary Tak's face as if it were extremely unexpected, but he soon hid it and asked back.
“Why? Because he shamelessly parachuted in by specifically pointing to Attorney Gang?”
“More than that, my attacks don't work well on him. I've never met his kind before, so he's unfamiliar.”
Perhaps because it was a remark that couldn't be readily interpreted, silence ensued. However, Seheon did not kindly explain each and every thing. He had never done so for anyone. Strangely, he found the fact that he occasionally did so for Yunshin unpleasant.
He had dealt with hundreds, thousands of all sorts of people. People on Do Yunshin's level were easy to read.
Truly, Yunshin was strange. Everything was sincere. Whether he despised him, relied on him, worried about him, felt concerned about him, was curious about him, or felt uncomfortable—every bit of it was real. Yunshin was always faithful to the emotions of the moment. He didn't flatter unnecessarily, nor did he grovel more than necessary. If he had something to say, he said it all, and yet he maintained at least the minimum courtesy.
Everything was so transparent that it rather made him lose the will to attack.
Most people he met in society either started a turf war with Seheon from the very first encounter or unconditionally lowered themselves and crawled in endlessly—it was one of the two. But Yunshin was both, yet neither. It was his first time meeting someone who treated him just as he was, so it was all the more puzzling.
As Seheon too fell silent, Secretary Tak, who seemed to be mulling over his thoughts, quietly continued.
“Is it because he's a type you've never handled before, so he feels uncomfortable?”
That level of expression would be the most accurate for describing his feelings at this very moment.
“I suppose so.”
“To be honest, Chief, right now you have exactly the expression of someone who hates seeing a clean person get dirty.”
The moment he heard those words, Seheon turned back to Secretary Tak. A suddenly nervous look flickered in his eyes, which had been languidly responding as if observing everything all along.
“Everyone has their bad sides. Is he some kind of saint? Saint Do? Look, he's the same.”
“Like this.”
“What else.”
“I'm saying you react so defensively like this whenever Attorney Do is mentioned. So it wasn't the married woman, but the man. I'm not sure how to take this. Well, I'm rooting for you anyway. It won't be an easy path.”
“Did you come from a children's song composition contest? Stop mess—”
Seheon retorted acerbically and half-turned his body to return to his office. At the same time, the opposing lawyer in the conference room, who had seemed to be continuously angry, sprang up from his seat. Yunshin, who had been explaining as calmly as possible, looked up at him quietly. He gestured toward the opposite seat, suggesting that he sit back down.
That was when.
The middle-aged man's thick hand moved ruthlessly toward Yunshin's neck. The scene of him extending both hands as if to grab his collar was caught by the vision of the two people outside as well.
“Huh? Chief. What do we do about tha—”
Before Secretary Tak's words could even finish, Seheon set down his mug as if throwing it and sprang up from the table, heading straight for the conference room in front of him. Without even knocking, he flung the door open, went inside, and grabbed the wrist of the man who was shaking Yunshin by the collar.
“What do you think you're doing!”
“Attorney?”
“G-Gang Seheon, Chief?”
Yunshin and the opposing lawyer recognized Seheon at the same time. The middle-aged man flinched down to his shoulders. When Seheon roughly shook off the wrist he was gripping as if throwing it away, the man brushed his tingling wrist with his palm and made excuses in a flustered tone.
“No, this young friend was being too impudent. He keeps quietly provoking me with a polite expression. We have rules in this industry too; where does a junior get off—”
“So you commit such an unseemly act? Do Yunshin is my associate, taught by me. If his attitude is impudent and negotiation is impossible, you can face me, who is far more senior than Attorney Do. However, your client will lose everything they have from this moment onward. He has compassion; I don't.”
“Now, Chief Gang. Please calm down.”
The middle-aged man, in a very difficult position as things seemed to be going terribly awry, cast a pleading glance toward Yunshin, whom he had been pressing until now. Watching this scene and faithfully assessing the situation, Yunshin slowly stood up. Then, standing between the two confronting men, he faced Seheon.
“Chief.”
“Can't you see I'm in the middle of a conversation? Where do you get off butting in? Step aside.”
“I understand but… this is my case. Please let me resolve it.”
Hearing those words, he suddenly narrowed his eyes as if realizing something, then reflexively surveyed the window. Beyond the glass, Secretary Tak slightly raised the mug Seheon had left behind a moment ago. The opponent outside said nothing, yet it was as if Seheon could hear a voice teasingly asking, “Didn't you say this was Attorney Do's table, so stay still?”
Belatedly realizing that he had unconsciously jumped in here upon seeing Do Yunshin grabbed by the collar, Seheon let out a hollow laugh. It was something that had almost never happened to him in his entire life.
He then cynically asked Yunshin, who was waiting for his answer.
“While getting beaten?”
“I haven't been hit yet. And now that Attorney Gang has warned him like this, he won't do it again. Please help me just up to here. I can do well.”
Seheon's expression turned into an indescribably strange look, and he heavily brought his hand down on Yunshin's shoulder. It seemed as if he were trying to calm his own heart through this crude contact. Soon after, he stared intently at the opposing lawyer, who was standing there not knowing what to do, as if warning him, then eventually turned around. While the middle-aged man bowed respectfully to him, he left the conference room without looking back.
Click. After closing the door and coming out, he strode toward his office with nervous steps. Secretary Tak tried to follow him but stopped upon recognizing that his complexion was unusual. It was then that he simply stared down at the abandoned mug.
Following Seheon and coming out from inside, Yunshin called out in a louder voice upon seeing his tall, retreating back.
“Thank you! I'll wrap this up well. Please take care of your condition while working. Don't get sick aga— Chief Gang!”
Even though it was a distance where the sound waves could sufficiently reach him, Seheon did not answer. He simply trudged to his room, closed the door, and hid himself. The gazes of Secretary Tak and Yunshin, who had been left standing blankly near the secretarial office area, crossed. It was Secretary Tak who spoke first.
“Is Attorney Gang sick somewhere?”
“I think he’s been having issues with his condition for a few days now. He said he had a headache too. I wonder if he took his medicine.”
“Does he have a splitting headache?”
“Yes. He asked for headache medicine. Seeing as Secretary Tak didn’t know, I suppose he didn’t take any. Then is he alright?”
Eyes bearing a kind yet earnest hue stared precisely at Yunsin as if penetrating right through him. Then Secretary Tak, smiling gently soon after, shook his head to say there was no need to worry. Yunsin, somewhat relieved, continued asking.
“Um, putting that aside, what do you think? It seemed like you were watching how I handled things the entire time.”
“By my standards, you’ve kept your cool. Setting aside that unpleasant situation from earlier.”
“That’s a relief. Actually, that attorney looked down on me because I haven’t been working long, so the conversation wasn’t progressing well. So I gently provoked him, and that’s what happened. Anyway, thanks to Chief Gang’s help, the rest should go smoothly. I’ll do my best until the end.”
“You’ve drawn more out of Chief Gang in just a few months than I’ve ever known him to give.”
“What do you mean by that all of a sudden?”
“Exactly as it sounds. Attorney Do seems to be a type Chief Gang has never seen before, so you must be difficult to handle. It’s interesting, really. Please work at our firm for a long time. Understood?”
Secretary Tak met his eyes refreshingly, then, without any further explanation, turned away calmly. While Yunsin tilted his head trying to interpret this reply, Tak completely returned to his seat and began working. Left standing alone in a corner of the hallway, Yunsin’s gaze inevitably reached Seheon’s office.
Chewing over the words Seheon had left behind with his lips pressed tight, his pale cheeks faintly flushed and twitched.
*My associate, the one I taught?*
Then, as if the air were deflating from a balloon, he quickly settled down.
*A type he’s never seen before…*
Should I call that a relief? Even though we seem like opposites, there is at least one thing we have in common.
Yunsin, too, found Seheon ever new. So while his eyes were drawn to him, he couldn’t figure out how to treat him. He didn’t even know what this feeling of constantly being mindful of him was.
Maybe he felt the same way.
Glancing at Seheon’s firmly closed office door, Yunsin soon took a deep breath and re-entered the conference room.
* * *
Sitting in the corporate legal consultation room in the annex, Yunsin scanned the free legal counseling documents and fell into troubled thought.
That the law governs the bare minimum of morality.
This was an important rule of the constitution that Yunsin had learned. In other words, except for the smallest unit of morality, the law does not provide relief. The world often presented humans with many unreasonable things, yet there was no way written in the constitution to help with them. Each time, Yunsin’s heart ached. The consultation materials before him now were a similar situation.
“I think this needs to go to lawsuit. I wonder what the family thinks.”
Tapping the paper with the tip of his pen, Yunsin finally pressed the intercom button after much deliberation.
“Send in the next client.”
Not long after, the door opened from outside along with a knock. Half-rising, Yunsin gestured for the person who had come in for consultation to sit across from him. The person seated before him was a middle-aged man in his late forties or early to mid-fifties. He had a very kind face. However, there were quite a few traces of mental anguish on it.
“You came because of inheritance, right? I took a look at the opinion letter you submitted. It says you cared for and supported your aunt, the decedent, until she passed away.”
“Yes. It was me, the nephew, not her children. But since she didn’t leave a will in the end, nearly all the property went to her children, whom she’d been estranged from. However, I was the one who cared for her for years in her later years. I was wondering if I could claim a contribution share in a claim for return of the statutory reserve based on that.”
Where should he even begin explaining?
The man seemed to possess inaccurate information overheard here and there or found through his own research. Yunsin, calmly turning things over in his head, began to explain slowly.
“Well, actually, contribution shares have absolutely nothing to do with statutory reserves. A statutory reserve is a portion of the estate that a person who inherits must leave for other heirs. This is fundamentally to guarantee the inheritance of heirs who have the right to it.”
The man immediately objected.
“Are you saying I don’t have the right? It was me, not her children, who lived with and cared for my aunt. My cousins were so busy with their own families that they might have visited once a year. Don’t I have more right to receive more since I contributed? She even told me while she was alive that she would leave all her property to me.”
“Do you have any evidence, such as voice recordings or handwritten documents?”
“How could I ask a sick person to write such things? It was only verbal….”
Yunsin’s regret-filled voice dissipated into the air.
“In that case, the children come first unconditionally. That is how inheritance law works in our country.”
“Then what should I do? I incurred a lot of debt for hospital bills and was planning to pay it off with the inheritance.”
“In this case, you must negotiate with your co-heirs for a contribution share, or if not, dispute it with your cousins in family court. And even if the court decides on a contribution share after a dispute, it will not be deducted from the statutory reserve. A certain amount will be inherited by the children anyway. Please read this first. I looked it up, and there is a similar case.”
Yunsin displayed a Supreme Court precedent on the screen that he had found beforehand and turned the monitor toward the man. Perhaps because it was organized in the simplest and easiest terms possible, the man read it quite attentively.
Meanwhile, upon checking the time on his phone, he saw a message from Secretary Tak. It seemed the opposing counsel in the pro bono case he was handling had conveyed willingness to match the settlement amount along with a public apology within the company.
Here and there, it was a litany of cases that the law could not completely resolve.
He swallowed a bitter breath.
* * *
Having returned from the annex, Yunsin headed to the library on the second floor of the main building. There was no one in the building with enough leisure to waste time reading books in here. Thanks to that, he was alone inside.
Originally, he had briefly come to take a few photos of materials he needed for work, but before he knew it, his steps were led in a different direction. He casually sat perched between the bookshelves and skimmed through divorce case precedent books, and before he knew it, an hour had passed.
*Huh, is it already this late?*
Checking his wristwatch, Yunsin gathered the books and hurriedly rose to his feet. At that moment, he heard the door opening from outside. Not knowing who it was but thinking to greet them anyway, he first moved toward the aisle. Yet the moment he saw who had entered, his mouth wouldn’t close.
It was Seheon, neatly dressed in a suit.
Whether he had also spotted Yunsin, he stopped walking, two books in hand.
“So you have free time.”
Dazed by this coincidence, Yunsin faintly furrowed his brow.
“You really do have a unique way of greeting people, Chief. Yes, it’s nice to see you too.”
“As expected, it’s better if we don’t run into each other as much as possible.”
When Seheon moved as if to walk right back out, Yunsin quickly ran over. Then he grabbed Seheon’s shoulder with a light slap. Though he had acted on instinct to stop him, the belated warning that Seheon had once given him about touching his body carelessly came to mind, leaving him in a difficult position.
Swallowing dryly, Yunsin was about to immediately withdraw his hand and apologize. But as if launching a counterattack, Seheon grabbed his bony wrist and pushed Yunsin’s slender body between the facing bookshelves.
Pressed against the bookshelf in an instant, Yunsin looked up at him quietly.
He considered pushing him away, but the hand gripping his wrist was quite strong, and his other hand was holding a divorce precedent book, making it difficult to move. Above all, since he was the one at fault first, he couldn’t really react more than necessary.
“Is cornering people a habit of yours? Do you do this to everyone? People will misunderstand.”
“It’s fine. I only do this to you.”
“Then I’ll be the one to misunderstand. I get curious for no reason. I keep thinking about you, Chief.”
“For instance, thinking that I look at you too much?”
“That’s—!”
Though various rebuttals scattered through his mind, he was reluctant to readily lay them before Seheon. Yunsin couldn’t bear to answer to the end and only moved his lips.
While the silence stretched on, Seheon held Yunsin’s arm and thrust his knee between his legs, controlling all range of movement. Their breaths clashed from much too close a distance. Yunsin awkwardly averted his gaze, which had nowhere to go, and cautiously asked a question as if changing the subject.
“Wh-why did you come here? Usually, if you need something, you have the secretaries do it.”
“Book donation.”
Showing the two books before his eyes, he tossed them down onto the cart. Glancing at the cover, Yunsin saw *Great Expectations* written on the front. Seeing that, a flood of emotions swept over him. Mustering his courage, Yunsin looked straight ahead again. Sure enough, Seheon was looking squarely at him.
Those deeply settled eyes frightened Yunsin a little for the first time. Unable to say anything and only pressing his lips together, Seheon raised his free hand. Then he lightly touched above Yunsin’s eyelid with his fingertip, tracing it as if brushing over it.
“Your eyes are much better when they aren’t swollen. You look less gloomy.”
“Ngh….”
Startled, Yunsin let out a low moan. Since it was a part of his body he had never imagined being sensitive to in his entire life, he found it absurd and bewildering that a cry had escaped the moment Seheon touched him. With a distressed face, he closed his eyes tightly then opened them, only for Seheon to utter words that threw his heart into disarray.
“Why are you so shaken? At this rate, I’ll be the one to misunderstand.”
“What exactly is the reason you’re doing this? I want to know so I can understand.”
“It must be because I want to.”
“So the more fundamental…”
He abruptly cut off Yunsin’s words.
“I keep ending up touching you. I could just pass by, but when I see you, I can’t do that. I hate this uncomfortable, context-less feeling.”
Cause and effect.
He liked it when that inevitably followed a situation. Because it served as grounds to hold an actor legally accountable. But between the two of them, actions kept connecting without such context, which seemed to make him uncomfortable. It seemed Yunsin’s appearance had acted as an exception in Seheon’s life of fixed schedules.
“I’m sorry to hear that. But if you hate it so much, couldn’t you just not touch me?”
“If I could, I would have already.”
Yunsin sensed that Seheon’s words, “I can’t do that,” were not at the level of physical contact. Seheon seemed to be using some of his emotions on him. In fact, as Yunsin kept bumping into him, he too felt their unspoken, secretive realms becoming tangled. Since it was instinctive even though they did not particularly share what was inside them, there was no clear way to deal with it.
Having stared fixedly at Yunsin’s pale face, Seheon smoothly lowered his eyes like a bead of water rolling off. The end of his gaze reached the divorce case precedent book that one thin hand was clutching tightly.
“Forget it, let’s stop talking about this. Did you come to borrow that?”
Feeling Seheon’s eyes on him, Yunsin glanced at the book and nodded.
“Ah, yes, somewhat. I thought I’d read it. Reading precedents helps when my head is cluttered.”
“Getting divorced?”
“I’m still single. You have that little interest in me?”
“If I took an interest, could you even handle it? I’m quite obsessive. I’d drain your life dry.”
“I don’t know since I haven’t experienced it yet. But um… could you let me go now? It hurts.”
When Yunsin pleaded quite earnestly, Seheon seemed to finally notice and quietly stared at where he was holding him. Then, as if thinking something over, he leaned his body even closer.
Perhaps because the distance was too narrow, or perhaps because a dizzying scent wafted from him, Yunsin felt his heart begin to beat faster than usual for no reason. His shoulders tensed sharply. Because the sensation was so unfamiliar, he finally tried to twist his arm free, but Seheon unexpectedly released his restraint obediently.
It was so futile because the pressure on his hand had been undone too easily. Quietly looking down at his wrist, which was red with the imprint of Seheon’s hand, he then looked at Seheon again. At some point, Seheon had stepped back two paces and stood leaning obliquely against the bookshelf, facing Yunsin just as Yunsin was.
“How much settlement money did you get? Why didn’t you report it?”
“I was going to once the documents were organized. Ten times the amount proposed by the opposing side. They withdrew the lawsuit too. The situation isn’t fully closed yet, but the biggest hurdle is over. Thank you for your help. A senior industry figure with so many more years of experience that I couldn’t count them on two hands grabbed me by the collar, so honestly, my vision went white for a moment.”
Above all, if it hadn’t been for him, Yunsin would have kept clinging to a lawsuit with a high chance of a suspended sentence. He might have won somehow, but he would clearly have consoled himself that he had done all he could while failing to properly compensate the victim for the suffering they had endured during that time.
With a single order, Seheon had taught Yunsin so many different things. Perhaps he himself had merely been intoxicated. Seheon, standing just one step across, had seen it accurately. The law was outstanding and great, but it was not truth. It was a system with many loopholes, one that occasionally failed to properly relieve victims on the grounds of insufficient evidence or gaps in legislation.
To truly win, a different power was needed. Sometimes it was authority within the system; sometimes, as in this case, it was intelligence from an unknown source. There were likely many more things that Yunsin had yet to experience. At times, sincerity alone could accomplish nothing.
Seheon’s low voice broke through Yunsin’s heavy thoughts.
“Fourth year.”
“Yes, Chief.”
“Good work.”
The wind carried by his indifferent voice was enough to startle Yunsin. It didn’t seem to be anything particularly great, but it felt like positive recognition for having discarded all the formulas he had used until now and simply followed the rules of this law firm.
Flustered and floundering from the unexpected compliment, Yunsin saw Seheon, who had been throwing him a sharp gaze, promptly leave that spot. Perhaps because he had come all this way to look at a book he wanted, he moved toward the commercial law precedent books. Through the empty spaces between the bookshelves, his graceful gait, his lightly fluttering necktie, and his refined face carefully selecting books all entered Yunsin’s vision like a painting.
For some reason, the urge to hold him back hammered away in his chest. Yet unable to do so, Yunsin watched Seheon from between several bookshelves.
Some time must have passed. When Seheon tried to leave again, perhaps having found his book, Yunsin reflexively called out to him.
“Chief Gang.”
*Please stay by my side a little longer.*
*Like that time. No, a little longer this time.*
Unable to say the rest and hesitating for a while, Seheon, who had been about to leave the library, soon turned around. As if stitching the stretching time tightly back together, he asked in a low and supple voice.
“Exercising your right to remain silent? If you have something to say, say it.”
“Um….”
“What.”
“It’s nothing. Please go up first.”
At this futile answer, Seheon scrunched up his brow in annoyance. As if hearing his voice even without a reply, Yunsin felt wronged and immediately retorted.
“Are you saying wasting even a few seconds is too much?”
“Yeah, it’s a waste. Spending anything on you is more of a waste than anything else.”
“Yes, I’m very sorry.”
“Just you wait, seeing how long you keep up this insolence.”
Shaking his head, Seheon tried to exit through the doorway, but this time, without Yunsin calling him, he turned around of his own accord. He seemed to calculate something in his head for a moment, then made quite a radical proposal.
“You’ll be working on my cases with me from now on. Receive reports on the progress of each case from Tak, and attend the case meetings I designate going forward. Before that, there is a trial for a case you’re currently handling, so observe that first. Of course, this is an order given on the premise that you have the will.”
Color rising to his face, Yunsin held the precedent book to his chest and nodded earnestly. Then, suddenly recalling Mihee’s words, he casually asked.
“Is it an appellate trial? I heard you like those.”
Furrowing his forehead as if asking what nonsense he was talking about, he soon answered quietly.
“No. It’s a trial court case.”
“How many cases do you take on at once? You’ll ruin your health.”
“I work only as much as my health allows. It’s a simple corporate lawsuit I took on as a courtesy for a long-time client.”
“Whether it’s simple or complex, I’ll definitely go even if a natural disaster strikes.”
“That’s quite a resolve. If a natural disaster comes, the judge can’t make it to court either, so stay holed up at home.”
Clicking his tongue, he finally turned around completely. The entrance door opened and closed once, and at some point, Seheon—who had been radiating the air of an overwhelming conqueror—disappeared like foam. Only once he was alone did Yunsin stagger and perch against a random spot as if leaning his body anywhere.
He is cold yet kind. No one would probably understand this evaluation of extremes, but it was true. Yunsin chewed over the words Seheon had spoken in here one by one, then slowly raised his left hand. He quietly stroked above his eyelid where Seheon’s soft skin had touched. Somehow feeling that smooth sensation, he unconsciously slowly dragged his finger down and rubbed his lip with the fingertip.
Touching the surface of his skin as if kissing it, his heart beat so violently that his mind snapped awake.
*Cough!* Greatly flustered, he coughed loudly. His whole face flushed bright red. As if proving it, the underside of his skin burned like crazy.
*Why did I do that?*
No matter how desperately he tried to deny it, it seemed to be sexual attraction. Nothing else could explain it. And if Seheon found out about this, he felt he wouldn’t get away unscathed. Seheon was someone who could do many things himself but wouldn’t allow others to do them.
Like a retreating soldier, Yunsin scrambled to his feet in a hurry. Unable to compose his face, ruined by shame, he dashed out of the library as if fleeing.
Slam! The door closed firmly with a sharp sound.