Law America, the Devil's Agent

In the darkness, Link, who seemed to be floating in the void, gradually regained his consciousness and then opened his eyes.

The first thing you see is a gray ceiling with a row of neat rivets at the seams.

The fluorescent lights were off, but a pale ray of natural light shone through the gap in the curtains, illuminating the watch on his bedside table.

The date on the watch face has already jumped to the next day.

Link picked up his watch and glanced at the time:

He slept for a full twenty-four hours.

The water glass by the bed was empty.

He walked barefoot onto the cold industrial floor, went to the restroom, turned on the tap, and poured himself a glass of water without thinking.

The cool water rushed down my throat and into my stomach, as if it were dispelling all the fatigue that had accumulated over the past week.

It washed away all those nights spent organizing evidence, the probing in the North District, and the afternoons spent tug-of-war with the opposing lawyer in court.

He braced his hands on the edge of the sink and looked up at himself in the mirror.

He was shirtless, with a band-aid on his shoulder blade—the only mark left when DeShawn's bullet grazed his left shoulder.

The edge of the band-aid was slightly raised; he pressed it down and then began brushing his teeth.

Halfway through the process, a deep red, semi-transparent panel suddenly popped up in front of him.

The case has been closed.

  

Customer satisfaction: Completely satisfied

[Rewards are being processed...]

[You have received: 200 Faith Points (2 Faith Points if the case is classified as a major case)]

[Capacity extraction in progress; detected as a large-scale case; capacity extraction increased by 2]

[Ability Already Extracted: Crisis Awareness - Expert Level]

[Extracted Ability: Business Thinking - Expert Level]

Link, with a toothbrush in his mouth, watched the two lines of text slowly appear before his eyes and then slowly disappear.

He spat out the foam from his mouth, rinsed it, dried his face with a towel, and straightened up again. The text on the panel began to unfold line by line.

[Crisis Premonition - Expert Level]

You will receive an intuitive warning signal three to five seconds before a potential threat occurs.

This warning system does not rely on the five senses and is not affected by environmental factors such as darkness, noise, or obstructed vision.

The warning does not include the specific form or source of the threat, only a vague sense of it.

This ability stemmed from the battlefield instincts honed by former Ranger Colonel Klaus through numerous combat engagements. (In the valleys of Afghanistan and the streets of Iraq, this instinct had saved his life more than once.)

Business Thinking - Expert Level:

You will be able to quickly identify points of conflict of interest in commercial contracts and abnormal points in the flow of funds.

When faced with complex financial statements and business terms, your brain will automatically build analytical models.

This capability stems from Samuel Winthrop's decades of practical business experience in the Philadelphia shipping industry.

Information flooded my mind.

Link tapped his fingertips lightly on the edge of the sink twice, and suddenly a few things that weren't there before appeared in his mind:

A connection to a primal sense of vigilance, as if he knew in advance that someone was watching him from behind.

Another connection led to more abstract knowledge, and countless complex business contracts and financial models gradually became clear in his mind.

He opened his eyes and looked at his still deep black eyes in the mirror.

A sense of impending crisis came from Klaus.

Business thinking comes from Samuel.

His clients are gradually arming him into something he himself hasn't fully recognized yet.

"Knock knock—"

A sound snapped Link out of his thoughts; there was a knock on the door.

Link put on a clean shirt, fastened his cufflinks, and went to open the door.

Daniel stood outside the door, wearing a clean white T-shirt and dark blue tactical pants from Anton, with a playful expression on his face.

His gaze swept over Link's face, then he grinned.

"Attorney, you scared us half to death. You slept for twenty-four hours straight. We thought that bastard shot you dead."

"Then you're going to be disappointed."

Link leaned against the doorframe and buttoned up his cuffs:

"I'm fine now. It was just an overload over the past week, I just need to recharge."

"Charge?"

Daniel burst out laughing:

"Honestly, I really thought you were a superman. That day in court, even when the gun went off, you stood there without moving an inch, not even blinking."

So even you, Superman, have times when you can sleep all day.

"Superman doesn't need to sleep, but lawyers do."

Link picked up his watch from the bedside table and put it on.

"What do you want from me?"

"Get ready, Mr. Samuel and our boss want to see you. They're waiting in the conference room."

Daniel whistled, stepped aside to make way for Link, and added as Link passed by:

"Oh, by the way, you're in the newspaper."

"...What?"

You'll see when you get there.

When the meeting room door opened, there were more people inside than Link had expected.

Samuel Winthrop sat at one side of the long table, wearing a dark blue coat, the lines on his face etched with weariness for over twenty years seeming to have faded somewhat.

Margaret sat next to him, wearing a simple beige sweater. Her eyes were still a little red, but her expression was no longer haggard from being soaked in sadness for too long.

Klaus sat opposite him, wearing his faded Shield tactical jacket and holding a cup of black coffee.

Eric stood next to the whiteboard, holding a folder and a folded newspaper.

Eric was the first to speak when he saw Link come in.

"Look who's here!"

It turns out that our lawyer, Link, has woken up!

God bless! Everything that has happened in the past 24 hours has gone exactly as you predicted.

He opened the folder and flipped through the pages one by one:

The Philadelphia Inquirer's headline read, "Defendant shot dead at federal courthouse after attempting to seize gun!"

There were no racial issues, no political hype; all the reports focused on the fact that DeShawn seized the gun and committed the crime in court.

Public opinion on social media is also overwhelmingly negative.

Senator Clemons made no move.

His office issued a statement this morning expressing "deep shock at the courtroom violence and support for the legitimate law enforcement actions of federal law enforcement agencies."

"As expected, it was cut cleanly."

Link sat down in the chair and took the coffee cup that Klaus pushed towards him:

"I told you he's a smart man, he knows when to shut up."

"There's one more thing."

Eric placed the folded newspaper he was holding on the table and pushed it in front of Link: "You're in the newspaper too."

It was the Philadelphia Legal Times, not a major newspaper like the Inquirer, but it had a certain influence in legal circles.

The front page featured a photo of Link in court, standing before the plaintiffs to make his opening statement.

In the photo, he is wearing a charcoal gray suit, his finger is pointing at a document, and his lips are slightly parted, as if he is saying a word that the jury will remember.

The headline of the report read:

Link, the lawyer in the Winthrop case—a stunning debut in court!

Link glanced at the photo, folded the newspaper, and put it back on the table.

"The filming is alright."

"Is that all the reaction you have?"

Daniel leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, a mischievous smile playing on his lips:

"You're in the newspaper, barrister. On the front page."

"The front page won't help my client get a better judgment."

Link picked up his coffee and took a sip:

"But it can help me get more clients."

Klaus let out a low, muffled chuckle through his nose. Samuel's lips also curled up slightly.

Eric closed the folder and walked toward the door, gently patting Daniel on the shoulder as he passed by.

Daniel understood and followed Eric out of the conference room.

Margaret also stood up, looked at Link, seemed to want to say something, but in the end she just said softly, "Thank you, Attorney Link," and then followed them away.

The door closed softly. Only three people remained in the conference room.

Samuel Winthrop took two items from the inside pocket of his coat and placed them on the table.

The first item was a check, which he pushed across the table and toward Link.

"This is $100,000. After tax. As mentioned before, you not only met all five conditions, but you exceeded expectations in every single one."

His voice regained the calm and restrained quality characteristic of business elites, but with an added layer of sincerity within that calmness:

"You've brought my daughter back, Attorney Link. This money is rightfully yours."

Link glanced down at the number on the check, didn't refuse, folded it up, and put it in his shirt pocket.

Samuel picked up a second document from the table, much thicker than the checks, about ten pages long, with the Winthrop Shipping Company logo printed on the cover—

It was the silhouette of a seagull with outstretched wings and a container ship.

"This is a personal invitation and has nothing to do with my family."

Contract for contract as an unofficial legal counsel for Winthrop Shipping's legal department.

You can earn an annual pre-tax salary of $70,000 and don't need to come to the company to work from nine to five.

You are still an attorney at Curtis Law Firm, but Winthrop Shipping would like to hear from you on the other end of the phone when they need you.

He paused for a moment, then pushed the contract in front of Link as well.

"This contract is not handled by routine legal procedures."

Regular legal affairs are handled by the company's legal department.

What I need your help with are those things that I can't easily let the company's legal department handle—"

He didn't finish his sentence, but Link nodded knowingly.

This contract is not an employment contract; it's just a certificate of cooperation.

He meant those things that fall into a gray area, require absolute secrecy, and need to be handled cleanly to avoid future problems.

The value of this contract lies not only in the annual salary of 70,000, but also in the other resource it brings:

The Winthrop family's connections.

As their external legal counsel, you'll have access to more clients, cases, and opportunities than if you were working in a cubicle at Curtiss.

It can be a valuable connection that paves the way for one's path to becoming a top lawyer.

Link met Samuel's gaze. There was no condescension or arrogance in the middle-aged man's eyes, only a businessman's formal invitation to a partner he approved of.

He nodded.

"I accept. I'll review the contract today, sign it, and send it to you tomorrow, Mr. Samuel."

Samuel nodded slightly, stood up, and buttoned up his coat one button at a time.

He paused for a moment when he reached the door, but did not turn around.

"Ella originally wanted to come see you in person."

But her body was still too weak, and the doctor was helping her to recuperate.

She asked me to pass on a message to you—

Thank you for your encouragement and help.

Link responded with a smile:

"You're welcome. I wish her to always be herself."

The door closed gently.

Only Klaus and Link remained in the conference room.

Klaus leaned back in his chair, the cup of black coffee in his hand already empty.

He placed the cup on the table and smiled at Link:

"What, aren't you going to ask me for something too?"

"You are not like Mr. Winthrop."

Link smiled:

"You're not as wealthy as their families. But I guess you're not planning to give me any money either."

"Heh, you're quite clever, kid."

He gave me one, and I gave him another; it didn't really mean anything.

Klaus snorted through his nose:

"From the first time I met you at your law firm, I knew you were different from people like Robin Ketchum."

You are not a vulture. Vultures eat carrion, and when they are full, they sit on dead trees and doze off. You are different.

There was a light in his gray eyes that resembled admiration and amazement:

You are an eagle. An eagle does not perch on a withered tree.

Eagles in the sky are always searching for prey.

I just spotted you early and gave you a branch. How you fly after that is up to you.

"That branch is already crucial."

Link said, "Without your call, I wouldn't have been able to see Mr. Winthrop. Without the ATF federal agents, DeShawn couldn't have been caught. Without the Shield's action team, Ella couldn't have been brought out. You were there every step of the way."

"That's what I should do. Winthrop is my employer, and you're my partner."

Klaus stood up and picked up his coat from the back of his chair:

"But from now on, our relationship will go beyond this. Antoon doesn't just work for the Winthrop family; we have many clients, some of whom are more difficult than the Winthrop family. Their legal issues require someone I can trust to handle them."

He walked up to Link and extended his hand.

"From now on, you will be the authorized contact person for AnDun Security Company at Curtis Law Firm."

You will receive many calls. Some will be during the day, and some will be at 3 a.m.

Whether you answer or not is up to you.

Link took his hand.

The hand, missing half of its ring finger, was rough and strong, and gripping it felt like holding a piece of oak that had been shaved with a knife.

"At your service, Mr. Klaus."

Klaus let go of his hand, slung his coat over his shoulder, and walked towards the door. After taking two steps, he stopped and glanced back at him.

The tone suddenly shifted from businesslike to a more casual, almost teasing tone, like that between old comrades.

"By the way, that blank cartridge... are you alright?"

"I was already wearing a bulletproof vest. It just brushed against my suit."

Link flicked the bandage on his left shoulder with his finger, a slight smile playing on his lips:

"Speaking of which, is this eligible for reimbursement?"

Klaus paused for a moment, then let out a deep laugh from his chest.

The laughter echoed in the conference room, making the AnDun Company emblem on the wall seem to tremble slightly.

"Go report this to Samuel."

After the laughter subsided, Klaus continued...

"Link, there's something I've always wanted to ask you."

How do you know DeShawn will definitely grab the gun?

If he doesn't take the bait, then all our efforts—the bailiff and the federal agent in the audience—would have been wasted.

What makes you so certain?

Link nodded, then looked up at Klaus.

"Actually, that was just a guess and a hypothesis of mine."

A thug like DeShawn, who replaces thinking with anger and his brain with his fists, has never had the word "patience" in his life.

In court, he watched helplessly as his backer abandoned him, as his wife took the stand and tried him using his real name, and as he went from a gang leader with a family and business to a prisoner.

His anger had reached its limit.

The gun with the safety off, holstered on the bailiff's waist, was the last trigger placed in front of him.

He paused, his tone flat.

"I just took a gamble."

If he didn't fire, we have a backup plan—he'll pay the price in jail just the same way.

However, such a price was not clean enough, nor thorough enough.

I need him to expose his true, violent nature in front of everyone, and then end it all with a bullet.

He met Klaus's gaze.

"Anger was his driving force, but also his Achilles' heel. I was simply using the weapon he was most proficient in."

Klaus was silent for a moment, then let out a low, meaningful chuckle.

"You mean, you deliberately provoked him in court?"

"It's not just about provoking."

Link said:

It is guidance.

Every action I took, every word I uttered, was meant to provoke him, to tell him one thing:

You have no way out, no future. The only thing you can do now is to explode.

He paused, a slight smile curving his lips.

In psychology, this is called "emotional leverage".

When you push someone's anger to a high enough point, they stop calculating the consequences.

After he finished speaking, the conference room fell silent for a moment.

Klaus looked at him, a complex glint in his eyes.

"That's not the kind of skill a lawyer should have," he said.

Link draped his suit jacket over his arm and walked toward the door.

"That's the skill a lawyer should have, Mr. Klaus. The courtroom isn't a shooting range, but the bullets always travel the same trajectory."

The only difference is that my bullet was words, while DeSean pulled the trigger himself.

Klaus opened the door and walked out into the hallway.

"Let's go, Link. I'll drive you."

"Where to?"

"You slept for a whole day and night, forgetting you're still a junior lawyer at Curtis Law Firm?"

Klaus's lips curled into a rough smile:

"Now that you've handled this big case, it's time to go back and share the good news with the senior members of your firm!"

Link was taken aback, then a smile appeared on his lips.

He picked up the charcoal gray suit jacket, which had a scorch mark from a bullet wound and which he hadn't had time to change out of, from the back of the chair, draped it over his arm, and followed Klaus out of the conference room.

Outside the window, the midday sun in Philadelphia poured through the clouds, illuminating the parking lot of the Antenna Corporation headquarters and the distant, hazy skyline.

After a long while, he murmured:

"Yes, it's time for me to move up in my position at the law firm."