“It seems Songrim got a lot of criticism for that and eventually withdrew.”
“It was too much. Hyun-wook was in charge up until the prosecution investigation, but completely withdrew after indictment. They needed a figurehead anyway. The excellent figurehead did his role and withdrew.”
Right. Bribery cases are closer to battles of connections than legal battles. Once investigation begins, the media clings to anything that can become news. What matters most is connections to control the unpredictable media and pull strings with the prosecution.
If you add the lawyers’ brilliant careers on top of that, it’s the icing on the cake. Former special investigation unit prosecutors who don’t bow to chaebol power, lawyers who are former high court presiding judges with reputations for conscientious verdicts mainly belong here. They become wonderful sandbags. Of course, right now with the current government’s foreign minister and even the senior secretary for civil affairs both being Songrim alumni, the best sandbag everyone wants to have is undoubtedly Jung Hyun-wook.
“Songrim muddies the waters in many ways. Dual representation is fundamentally illegal, isn’t it?”
“But what can you say when the parties to the case consented? It’s all because Jung Hyun-wook is so outstanding. There’s a saying in Seocho-dong. For a trial you absolutely cannot lose, go to Jung Hyun-wook. Have you ever thought about it? If I got caught up in a lawsuit and had to appoint a lawyer, who would I ask? I wouldn’t hesitate—Jung Hyun-wook.”
“Not me. Using any means and methods for results isn’t my way. Legal work has public responsibilities after all. Songrim degraded the status of law to market logic. The merchant at the forefront of that is Lawyer Jung Hyun-wook.”
Im Ji-seok said bluntly. Natural FMs like Im Ji-seok hated lawyers like Jung Hyun-wook. But would Im Ji-seok get angry if told the two were very similar? Sang-yeong burst into laughter. The young junior’s retort didn’t seem to offend him at all.
“Hey, Hyo-kyung-ah. Look at how he talks. Doesn’t he remind you of someone? You two really shouldn’t get close.”
That fastidious temperament and conviction. The blunt lips that said he didn’t want to become a merchant selling law. Jung Hyun-wook used to say that being a lawyer was the most deceptive profession in the world. I still can’t believe Jung Hyun-wook became a lawyer.
“I didn’t believe people change. Times change. But looking at Hyun-wook… people do change.”
Sang-yeong added bitterly.
“Hyun-wook didn’t withdraw from the bribery case because of public opinion.”
Of course. Songrim wouldn’t be swayed by such concerns.
“Hyun-wook ended up defending CEO Jo Tae-seong of Taegang Chemical.”
The relationship between Songrim and Taegang was famous. Songrim started small. Songrim Law Firm was founded by Jung Hyun-wook’s maternal grandfather, Assemblyman Song Gang-seok who was a former chairman of the National Assembly Judiciary Committee, and his friend, Lawyer Lim Sang-hwa. Songrim, named by taking one character from each of their surnames, mainly handled pro bono labor cases for workers during the 70s and 80s when the labor market was terrible.
But what made Songrim into today’s giant law firm was Jung Hyun-wook’s father, Lawyer Jung Kyeong-hwan. From then on, Taegang and Songrim grew together. Representative Jung Kyeong-hwan handled Taegang’s corporate consulting and succeeded in major mergers and acquisitions.
In the process, there were numerous allegations of illegality and lobbying suspicions, but Songrim took care of all of Taegang’s cleanup work regardless, and ultimately grew Taegang, which started as a small logistics warehouse, into a top 10 conglomerate.
They shared each other’s illegalities while their very existence was each other’s most fatal weakness. In other words, Songrim and Taegang were a community of fate.
When CEO Jo Tae-seong’s arrest warrant was requested, a debate broke out in Seocho-dong over who would handle the warrant substantive review defense. The first mentioned was former Supreme Court Justice Lee Sang-deok. He was virtually the last card Songrim could use after mobilizing everyone from a High Prosecutors’ Office chief who retired less than a year ago, to a former Central District Prosecutors’ Office chief of special investigation department, to a former Judicial Research and Training Institute director, yet still failed to block the warrant request. The dismissal rate for cases handled by former Supreme Court Justice lawyers was formidable.
But Songrim chose Jung Hyun-wook.
“It’s a declaration of will to absolutely not allow CEO Jo Tae-seong to be detained. Songrim really is Taegang’s faithful dog.”
At Ji-seok’s words, I looked at Sang-yeong with a bewildered gaze. Jung Hyun-wook and Jo Tae-seong. At least I thought there would never be a case where those two names would be mentioned side by side.
Suddenly my head became complicated. If I met him again, what words should I say? What expression should I make? No, could I even meet him at all? That great Jung Hyun-wook… The thoughts and questions I’d postponed while coming to Seoul poured out incoherently.
***
Looking back, whenever an unexpected moment came in life, I always made the wrong choice. My mother’s death was like that, my relationship with my father was like that, and my last moment with Jung Hyun-wook was like that.
Knowing how harsh the waves created by life’s amazing coincidences could be, I always wanted to be ahead of those waves. I wanted to run first. But unexpected moments always came again, and I was equally defenseless.
It was when calling the last case number. It was a formal and habitual procedure. It was just before the summary judgment that had continued since morning ended. I rubbed my stiff eyelids and raised my head. Jung Hyun-wook was before my eyes. Like a lie.
Time seemed to stop. Without realizing it, strength went into the hand holding the fountain pen. It had been ten years. As a bar exam passing gift, he had given me a Montblanc fountain pen engraved with my name. That was the last time.
When I remained silent for a long time, he lightly raised his wrist to check the time. When the thin wool fabric you couldn’t feel wearing pulled up, a luxury watch sparkled under the wrinkle-free, taut shirt cuff. Even in college when there were no luxuries, he wore the price of a car on his wrist.
The black suit that wrapped his body without gaps was splendid, as if a collection had been transplanted as is. The old him didn’t wear such flashy clothes. He always preferred neat and comfortable things. Ten years was time enough for everything to change.
“Your Honor. I don’t have time. I request you proceed with the process quickly.”
It was a quiet and polite tone, but an irresistible force was felt. He was composed. He was dry, as if without any trace of emotion toward me. I was the only one who lost composure at a single glance from him.
I avoided our meeting eyes. I turned pages pretending to look at the documents. Why was he here? The hand turning pages trembled. Not a single word entered my eyes. This was a summary judgment court. It was common for parties not to appear. At most a 200,000 won fine—who would appoint a lawyer? Especially Jung Hyun-wook, whose hourly consultation fee alone was said to be close to a hundred million. He must have definitely mistaken this for the courtroom right next door.
“Counsel. Did you perhaps mistake the courtroom? This is…”
My throat tightened from suppressing my trembling voice.
“Your Honor. I am here not as counsel but as the defendant.”
Jung Hyun-wook’s voice was sharp as a blade. My eyelids trembled rapidly. Simultaneously, Jung Hyun-wook’s gaze pinned me.
It wasn’t that I’d never imagined facing him in court. No. Rather, I’d imagined it hundreds of times. But in hundreds of imaginings, he had never once been the defendant. His lips, which had been silently watching my eyes shake messily, curved up mischievously for a brief moment.
“You don’t need to be so flustered. It’s simply unpaid traffic fines. I got a ticket and forgot about it after putting it in the car dashboard. My secretary only discovered the summary judgment appearance notice this morning too. As you know, hundreds of notices fly to my name in a month.”
He shrugged his shoulders. His eyes, which had shed their businesslike and listless attitude, were vibrant. Those very eyes that twenty-year-old me had been captivated by in an instant. My heart beat rapidly.
It was the Taegang Hotel access road at 2 AM. Jung Hyun-wook was caught on the spot by a police officer.
“Do you admit to violating the speed limit at the entrance to Taegang Hotel?”
The road entering Taegang Hotel was a one-lane mountain road in a fairly secluded place. If caught by a traffic officer at 2 AM, there was a high possibility he’d been driving at high speed from the main road and the officer had followed him there. Of course, these circumstances had absolutely no effect on the verdict, so there was no reason to ask.
Nevertheless, one speculation gradually took concrete form in my head. A reason to go to a hotel while speeding at 2 AM. Could Jung Hyun-wook have a woman he’s seeing?
“I admit it.”
The traffic officer had been meticulous enough to attach a photo of Jung Hyun-wook’s vehicle number. It was an amazingly flashy sports car. He who always wore only achromatic clothes was a man who detested standing out. Ten years really had changed many things.
“I sentence you to a fine of 100,000 won.”
According to Sang-yeong, I finished the trial without a single rebuttal even after putting Jung Hyun-wook, Seocho-dong’s most successful lawyer, at the defendant’s seat. He readily admitted it. Well, there was no reason not to admit it.
Today’s trials were all finished. Time had already passed well into evening. Jung Hyun-wook was paying the fine to an officer at the right exit of the summary judgment court. From sentencing to payment, truly a perfect system. The officer gives defendants leaving the courtroom a final choice. Cash, bank transfer, credit card.
Jung Hyun-wook handed over two 50,000 won bills taken from his wallet. The clerk who finished entering it into the computer gave me a light eye greeting and left. The courtroom had become quiet. I was also gathering my belongings to leave the bench when—
“You don’t wear glasses anymore?”
Jung Hyun-wook asked. Could all he was curious about after meeting someone for the first time in ten years be just glasses? Because I want to see things blurred in court. I don’t want to see clearly. I couldn’t tell the truth.
