The Regressed Chaebol Grandson Finds It Hard to Forgive - Chapter 35

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 35. Jo-An-Jang (2)

‘What is this?’

Senior attorney Kim Gyeong-min felt as though he’d been struck from behind.

Jo-An-Jang Law Firm, where competition runs fiercer than anywhere else.

Over a thousand lawyers smile at one another while scheming and competing daily.

Every lawyer at Jo-An-Jang enters into a one-on-one contract with lead attorney Jang Mu-yeol.

The difference in retainer and performance bonuses is vast depending on ability, and once competence is proven, the wallet grows heavy immediately.

Conversely, failure to produce results means the contract is terminated on the spot.

Judges, prosecutors, and lawyers wait year-round to join Jo-An-Jang, and there is no shortage of them.

At Jo-An-Jang, personal achievement alone is the measure of all competence.

Human rights? Justice?

At Jo-An-Jang, that’s nonsense.
In legal disputes, only total victory is human rights and justice.

Only then does the assigned attorney receive a hefty bonus.

The differential in compensation based on results is beyond imagination.

Those with power and wealth in South Korea trust Jo-An-Jang.

To win their legal disputes, the entire organization works in seamless coordination.

Clients only increase—they never decrease.

They seek them out on their own.

What society deems right or wrong is irrelevant.

The approach to cases is deeply complex.

Only a tiny fraction of clients hold the morally defensible position.

The larger the case, the more it likely involves clients on the wrong side of the law—and the greater the profit it guarantees.

Society’s trash—those at the heart of social evil—are the biggest clients.

They know that Jo-An-Jang can easily resolve their illegal entanglements.

The attorney’s code of conduct lightens the burden carried by a legal representative who has sold their conscience.

In exchange for maintaining confidentiality for life, they receive a comfortable existence.

But the stress they must bear is beyond words.

Here, you cannot survive unless you sell your conscience.

This is where the survival of the fittest plays out in human form.

An unusually easy case has landed on his desk.

His courtesy toward the front desk staff has borne unexpected fruit.

Those coffees he’d shared became the bridge to a major client.

Comprehensive Legal Services worth 1.2 billion a year.

Such offers aren’t common.
Most come from mid-sized corporations and above.

It’s a service favored by businesses reluctant to maintain their own legal departments, or by wealthy individuals.

1.2 billion annually is a substantial sum even by those standards.

It matches Kim Gyeong-min’s entire annual salary.

And beyond that, the client promises additional retainers per case.
Kim Gyeong-min stared at the young man before him as if to bore through him.

At most, he couldn’t be past his early twenties.

His appearance is striking enough to warrant admiration—like a young entertainer.

The presence commanding the Consultation Room is equally exceptional.

Over the years, he’d interviewed countless clients.

Among them, there was a particular type he recognized.

Members of the family dynasties that form the backbone of South Korea’s economy.

‘If he’s surnamed Ha…’

He couldn’t shake the doubt.
The client’s surname brought the Ha Ryun Group to mind.

Yet there’s no one this young among the Ha Ryun Group’s known family members.

“Would you elaborate on your requirements in specific terms?”

The client mentioned certain conditions.

“The conditions are simple. Should any legal dispute arise involving me or my direct line of descent, Jo-An-Jang must observe the Dual Representation Prohibition. In other words, you simply cannot represent both sides.”

That was standard practice for any client.

The Dual Representation Prohibition!
Just years ago, it had been a major internal issue that required serious correction.

“That will absolutely not happen.”
“Please stipulate it in the contract. The penalty clause should be set at ten times the total contract value, and the jurisdiction—state that I, as the client party, retain the right to choose between South Korea and the United States.”
“The… United States?”
“I’m obtaining permanent residency soon.”
“.….”

An unexpectedly meticulous client.
An ominous chill swept across the back of Kim Gyeong-min’s neck.

But 100 million arrives each month.
That’s far from negligible.

“And the contract term is ten years. Please include that as well.”

Ten years—that’s 1.2 billion!
It rivals the settlement amount of a major civil suit.

“.…!!”
“If you cannot accept, I’ll approach another firm.”
“Oh, Professor! Add it to the contract, please.”
“Yes.”

Losing a client like this would be admitting incompetence.

Any colleague would envy such a honey-pot contract.

Whoosh.

“My address.”

The client slid forward a Resident Registration Certificate.

‘Registered today… a new address.’

A Resident Registration Certificate—in the modern age, it’s almost a second form of ID.

The address listed, with registration dated today, is Latte Signielles.

‘Solo household? What! Nineteen years old?’

The household consists of one person.
Legally an adult under civil law, yet residing at Latte Signielles.

Living alone isn’t unusual in itself.
But in South Korea, cases of a mere nineteen-year-old living alone in such a location are nearly nonexistent.

‘An illegitimate child of a group…? Or perhaps…’

Kim Gyeong-min was bewildered by the clues.

“I work in Financial Investment Business.”
“Pardon? In what capacity…?”
“It’s the hot sector in finance these days…”
“.….”

Kim Gyeong-min stared at his young client as if bewitched.

“Cryptocurrency, perhaps?”

Ayura let out a small, sharp cry, her eyes widening.

* * *

‘He’s got good intuition.’

There was something unusual about him from the very first moment.

A radiant, intense golden aura—unlike anything I’ve seen before!

More vivid than that of Lee Hyo-ju, a member of the family.

If Lee Hyo-ju’s aura is 18-karat, Ayura’s is pure 24-karat gold.

His sharp remark carried genuine curiosity.

“Crypt… cryptocurrency?”

Attorney Kim Gyeong-min asked for confirmation, as if unprepared for the answer.

The older attorney clearly shows no interest whatsoever in crypto investments.
He doesn’t understand the appeal.

“Yes.”

There’s no reason to hide it.
I’ll need their assistance in the near future anyway.

“Ah… I see.”

Attorney Kim Gyeong-min gave a brief exclamation and bobbed his head vaguely.
Yet his eyes betrayed complex thoughts.

Cryptocurrency investment is still viewed by the established elite as reckless gambling.

“I’ve earned considerably more than you might imagine.”

I stated it with confidence.
Of course, I can’t disclose the actual returns.

For baseless boasting, crypto is the perfect answer.

Institutional accounts and stock portfolios can be audited by the state.
But overseas crypto exchange accounts…

“.….”

Kim Gyeong-min and Ayura have nothing more to add.

They’re clearly doing quick mental math.

A client willing to pay 1.2 billion annually for legal services!
No—a golden goose that’s walked straight through the door!

“We’ll do our absolute best to serve you.”

Kim Gyeong-min’s tone has shifted.
In this world, money is power and justice.

Crypto or fraud—Jo-An-Jang only cares about the money flowing in.

“I’d also like counsel on corporate acquisitions and mergers, e-business ventures, and various financial management strategies moving forward.”

To these lawyers, it all sounds like the baseless ambition of a young kid.

I understand their skepticism.
These aren’t words that would normally come from someone my age.

“We’ll provide services befitting your vision, Ha Tae-woong.”

His voice has grown even more formal.

Unlike his initial demeanor, Kim Gyeong-min’s eyes have hardened with resolve.

“Please feel free to contact us anytime—whenever it suits you!”

He’s clearly made his decision.

“Actually, one more thing…”

My gaze shifted toward Ayura.

The bearer of that golden aura I don’t want to lose sight of.

“I’d like to designate Ayura as my personal dedicated attorney.”
“Understood.”

Kim Gyeong-min looked toward Ayura.

“I’ll do my utmost to serve you.”

Ayura smiled brightly.
The Consultation Room lit up in an instant.

An attorney with both striking looks and golden talent.

“Looking forward to working with you.”

I extended my hand to offer a handshake.
She reached out with her own soft hand in return.

Spark.

The moment our eyes met, electricity crackled between us.

A fresh, tart apple blossom bloomed at the corner of her lips.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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