The Promise of Justice

“Case Number 20…”

It was a moment that always made my heart pound, no matter how many times I experienced it.

Beside me, my client clasped her hands together, her entire body trembling.

Her breathing grew shallower, her breaths becoming ragged.

My eyes met the judge’s over the verdict.

It felt as if the very flow of air had stopped.

“…I pronounce you not guilty.”

“Ah, ah! Thank you, God. Thank you, lawyer.”

My client burst into tears, tears she had been holding back, and clutched my hand. I patted her shoulder.

“You’ve been through a lot.”

“Thank you, thank you… You are my lifesaver.”

“I merely did what any lawyer would do.”

After exchanging pleasantries, I left the courtroom.

Settling into the back seat of the waiting car, I fell into thought.

‘What is justice?’

Even if one hadn’t pondered the word, everyone had likely heard the phrase at least once.

Justice.

A word meaning the correct way according to truth, or a word used to clearly define and stipulate the meaning of words or things.

Then, in today’s Korea, what is justice?

A law firm that emerged like a supernova, signifying ‘Justice.’

“We’ve arrived, Sir.”

“Thank you. Please park and head home for today, Mr. Choi.”

“Thank you always, Sir.”

I watched the car disappear into the parking lot for a moment before adjusting my clothes.

Then, I began to walk.

Clap, clap!

“Congratulations on your victory, Sir!”

As if they had been waiting, the employees congratulated me in the lobby.

It always embarrassed me, even though it happened every time.

But I smiled naturally and opened my mouth.

“You all worked hard. It was a difficult case, and I’m grateful for everyone’s effort.”

“Not at all, Sir. You were the one who found that precedent. It’s truly amazing.”

“I’m too flattered. I couldn’t have done it alone. Thank you all.”

“In that case, is there a celebratory dinner today, CEO Yoon?”

“I won’t be going, but my card will. Don’t hesitate to eat whatever you want.”

“Thank you!”

I responded with a nod to the employees waving goodbye through the closing elevator doors.

Clang.

As soon as the elevator doors shut, the smile I had shown to the employees vanished.

“Hoo.”

I loosened my tie, which felt like it was strangling me, and let out a sigh.

When I gave up my judge’s robe to become a lawyer, everyone tried to dissuade me.

They asked how a judge could quit.

But it wasn’t an easy decision for me either.

Ding.

As the doors opened, I saw the two co-CEO offices facing each other, like a pair of opposing forces.

This was the one thing about ‘Justice’ that I disliked.

“Sir, CEO Yoon Eunho has arrived.”

As I stepped out of the elevator, the secretary announced my arrival in a polite tone.

Immediately after, I pushed open the heavy brown wooden door and bowed my head.

I swallowed a sigh and bowed before entering the room.

‘I wish they wouldn’t do this.’

This suffocating hierarchical order was partly why I had shed my judicial robes.

But to the person in front of me, it probably sounded like mere childish complaining.

“I heard today was quite the triumph?”

Hyeon Yeongje spoke without looking up from the newspaper he was reading.

“It was all thanks to the employees.”

Thump.

Hyeon Yeongje tossed the newspaper onto his desk and opened his mouth.

“That’s unlikely. That case was a mess. It looked difficult even when I saw it. But what can I say? Even if you shed the robes, the top graduate of the Judicial Research and Training Institute doesn’t just disappear.”

His tone was clearly sarcastic.

I closed my eyes for a moment, then opened them again at his words.

It wasn’t as if Hyeon Yeongje and I had been on bad terms from the beginning.

In fact, Hyeon Yeongje had always been a good senior.

In the training institute, when we met as prosecutors and judges, and even when we became co-CEOs and established ‘Justice.’

‘When did things go so wrong?’

If I had to find a reason, there was only one.

The cases I returned to were the ones that didn’t make money.

I opened my mouth, anticipating his reply.

“Regarding this quarter’s pro bono case, I heard you told Attorney Kim to postpone it. Is there a reason?”

‘Justice’ was undertaking one pro bono case per quarter for public interest.

We had agreed to increase the frequency as the firm grew.

This was a promise and a principle we had upheld since the beginning of ‘Justice.’

However, Hyeon Yeongje glanced at his watch as if annoyed and replied.

“Ah, that? I told Kim to take the KH eldest son’s case instead.”

Hyeon Yeongje glanced at me, who remained silent, and rubbed his chin before adding.

Instead of reacting, I slowly opened my mouth.

“One pro bono case per attorney per quarter, that was the promise I made with you, senior, when we established Justice.”

Hyeon Yeongje’s sharp eyes furrowed as he looked at me.

My reflection in the window behind him showed no outward reaction, but that was only because I was skilled at hiding my emotions.

“We agreed to gradually reduce that frequency once the company stabilized. Do we still need more stabilization than now? We both know it’s enough.”

‘Justice’ was now aiming to surpass the top firms in the country.

“CEO Yoon.”

“Yes?”

“Are we still considered people earning state salaries?”

Hyeon Yeongje stared at me with his impeccably styled hair and an equally flawless expression.

“We are all people for whom time is gold now. Both you and I, and even the juniors under us.”

“My point is the same. We are buying the future with that gold. Ultimately, it will benefit our company’s image.”

My retort made Hyeon Yeongje’s eyes even sharper.

He used to say that one look from him as a prosecutor would lead to a confession.

I didn’t avoid his gaze and met it head-on.

“Images can be created with money. Do you know how much the case that just came in is worth?”

I knew.

I chose today’s client knowing this, because they were truly wronged.

Swish.

Hyeon Yeongje raised his index finger to his shoulder and pointed out the window.

“That was barely handled by Attorney Kim. Was I supposed to just watch as it went to other law firms out there?”

“I’m simply asking to look a little further ahead. I want all citizens to think of ‘Justice’ when they hear the words ‘true lawyer.’”

“A true lawyer is a winning lawyer.”

Hyeon Yeongje added mockingly.

“That’s why those people come running to you with their money.”

I let out a low sigh and rubbed my eyes.

It was the same conversation again.

“Yoon Eunho, a lawyer with a 100% win rate since transitioning from a judge, never having lost a case. Is that all? You’re also a lawyer who goes the extra mile, a rare sight these days.”

Hyeon Yeongje moved his index and middle fingers slowly on his palm.

“Someone who doesn’t hesitate to investigate for their client.”

“CEO Hyeon.”

Thump.

I placed both my hands on Hyeon Yeongje’s desk.

He was trying to deflect the conversation by derailing the main point.

Most people would have been easily swayed, but I had my own experiences with him.

As I leaned forward, our gazes drew closer.

“Rich people want lawyers like that, too. And I, as CEO, want lawyers like that.”

“Those clients have other lawyers besides me. As CEO, the lawyers I want are those who align with the word ‘Justice.’”

Hyeon Yeongje leaned back into his chair.

The distance between us widened.

I removed my hands and stood up.

“Yes, and the people you want to defend could use a public defender instead of you. Many public defenders are quite diligent these days. Last time, didn’t Lee also lose to a public defender?”

“…It’s the same conversation as always. Let’s talk again later. I’m leaving.”

“Let’s end this conversation today. I don’t want to hear anymore about how you’re noble and I’m not.”

The conversation ended without resolution, as usual. I left Hyeon Yeongje’s office and headed to my own.

I roughly loosened my tie and threw it onto my desk.

Thud.

A lawyer is a merchant.

That was an undeniable truth.

But couldn’t there be a little more justice? Couldn’t we save those who were wronged?

I wished I could clear my head somewhere quiet, but I had neither the time nor the leisure.

Habitually, I turned on the audio system and sat down.

[…May all evil karma be eliminated…]

Buddhist scriptures echoed in the quiet office.

The sound of turning pages quietly overlaid them.

How much time had passed?

“……”

By the time I had reviewed the documents on my desk and finished preparing for the next trial, it was already night.

My days had been similar since I started this work.

Work, and then more work.

It would be a lie to say that living like this every day wasn’t difficult.

But there was also an indescribable joy.

‘It’s better than creating wronged people…’

Even as a judge, I strove for just and righteous rulings, but a part of my heart always felt uneasy.

The anxiety that I might create a wronged person with an incorrect judgment, the guilt of not being able to represent victims, constantly gnawed at me.

When I found myself only adhering to legal statutes rather than people, I decided to shed my judicial robes.

To personally confront those who twisted the law.

‘But then again…’

There was no particular reason for choosing the name ‘Justice’ among so many words.

I simply wanted to pursue justice.

However, ironically, this very ‘Justice’ was preventing me from doing the kind of legal work I truly wanted to do.

‘If this continues, I might as well just open my own office.’

I had been thinking this for months.

Yet, I hadn’t acted on it because of the employees who had welcomed me so warmly.

‘Because there are junior colleagues who came to Justice with me for the sake of justice.’

I shook my head and grabbed my coat.

I felt like a walk might clear my thoughts.

<K&J>

I had only left the building where our firm was located, but I could still see brightly lit signs.

There were countless law offices and firms on this street.

Blink.

The traffic light in front of me changed, as if to snap me out of my thoughts.

As I took a step forward.

“Watch out!”

A desperate voice called out from behind me.

Before I could even turn my head, a blinding light engulfed me, making it impossible to open my eyes properly.

CRUNCH!

“There’s someone here, a person was hit!”

“Call 119! Someone call 119!”

The bright headlights of the car were the last thing I saw, and then various voices swirled above me.

“Ah…”

Suddenly, the sky, not the buildings, was visible. My fingertips were damp with blood flowing from the back of my head.

“Hey, stay with me!”

As the faces of the people approaching me began to blur into a haze, one voice from the crowd cut through my mind with perfect clarity.

[Do you want to achieve the ‘true’ justice you dreamed of?]

With that question, pain washed over my shattered body like a wave.

I thought I had nodded.

My eyes closed.

When I forced my heavy eyelids open, I was greeted by an unrealistic blue hologram.

[Greetings, Yoon Eunho.]

[Yoon Eunho’s ‘physical body’ has died.]

‘What is this? What does that mean?’

Instead of trying to sit up, I rolled my eyes to survey my surroundings.

‘Is this a hallucination?’

If, by some chance, I had been kidnapped and injected with drugs, assessing the situation was paramount.

At that moment, I recalled a conversation I had with my juniors about the afterlife after attending a client’s funeral together.

“It’s so sad. He was such a good person… I hope he rests in peace.”

“Right. They say when you die, you go to the place you most wanted to visit, these days.”

“What are you talking about? Death is the end. What do you think, CEO Yoon?”

What did I say back then?

“If there is a god, then there is. Whether it’s heaven or hell.”

So, is this heaven or hell?

Judging by the interior, it doesn’t seem to fit either. It looks like a typical studio apartment.

As if reading my thoughts, another sentence appeared.

The problem was that the sentence was completely different from what I had imagined.

[Yoon Eunho’s soul is currently inhabiting Cha Yohan’s body.]

What is this?

Cha Yohan?

Who is that?

“My soul… what?”

I couldn’t help but sit up and shout at those words.

[Cha Yohan, as a public defender, has achieved a record of 0% win rate.]

[From now on, Yoon Eunho will live as Cha Yohan.]

It was strange enough to have something bizarre appearing before my eyes, but the nonsensical statement of a 0% win rate?

I raised my hand and touched my face. My fingertips felt distinctly unfamiliar.

As if not wanting to resolve my doubts, the text continued.

[While living as Cha Yohan, if you lose even a single case, you will die.]

[You must go to court immediately. Today is Cha Yohan’s first trial.]

If I lose, I die.

So, I have to defend even the most malicious criminals and get them acquitted?

That couldn’t be right.

‘It seems like I can communicate, but should I use polite language for questions?’

It felt too real to be a dream.

My cheek still ached when I pinched it with all my might after reading about the 0% win rate.

Most importantly, only my cheek ached, not my shattered body.

Could it be… that this absurd situation was actually true?

I asked a question as if I had gone mad.

“…I have no intention of defending someone unjust. Must I then accept death?”

For a moment, nothing appeared before my eyes.

I thought, ‘Of course, something like this couldn’t happen.’

[Regarding this matter, you are provided with a first trial advantage.]

[The defendant in today’s trial is innocent.]