Law America, the Devil's Agent

Outside the Curtiss Law Firm.

Klaus walked beside Link, half a step behind, like an old-school soldier instinctively yielding.

The air in the corridor seemed to be pushed by something invisible.

Several junior lawyers who had just peeked out from the lounge quickly retreated back inside.

The two assistants next to the photocopier exchanged a glance.

Warren stood at the entrance to the lounge, watching Link walk in through the main door:

He was so spirited, confident, and high-spirited. His former timidity and cowardice had vanished completely.

Just like he appeared in court.

Benny stood to the side, his lips moved as if he wanted to say hello, but the word "Link" never came out.

But unexpectedly, just as he was feeling down, he saw Link cast a glance at him.

The two met face to face, and Link smiled slightly.

Benny's lips curled into a smile.

He hasn't forgotten what happened in the mud.

Link shifted his gaze and turned it towards where Kona was.

Her eyes were full of curiosity, but when she saw Link looking at her, she stretched out her palm and gave a slight thumbs up.

Robin was still standing at the door of the lounge, in the same position he had been in when he was about to leave.

His feet were rooted to the spot, and the expression on his face changed from astonishment to ashen, and then from ashen to a completely unconcealable dejection.

As Link passed by him, he didn't stop, didn't even greet him, and didn't even glance at him.

To remain silent and disdainful is the greatest irony and humiliation one can inflict on an enemy.

Robin's lips trembled. He wanted to say something, but Klaus's gaze swept over him, and those gray eyes lingered on his face for less than a second before he swallowed his words.

Link withdrew his gaze and continued walking forward.

For him, Robin was already a problem that had been solved.

He walked unhurriedly through the corridor to the office area, preparing to head to his cubicle...

Dylan McKellen was already standing at the door waiting.

He was wearing a dark purple three-piece suit, his tie was tied meticulously, and his hair was combed neatly.

His face wore a familiar, polite smile, but when his gaze fell on Link, that smile took on a deeper meaning:

"Mr. Klaus." He extended his hand.

"Dylan."

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Klaus grasped his hand, shook it twice forcefully, and said casually:

"I brought your man back. He was perfectly fine, except for a hole in his suit."

"I've heard about it."

Dylan released his grip, turned to Link, and nodded slightly:

"Attorney Link"

I've learned about your performance through various channels. Come in, let's sit down and talk.

The senior partner’s office was much more spacious than Link had imagined.

The three walls are lined with built-in bookshelves filled with hardcover legal classics and several rows of leather-covered case compilations.

The blinds were half-open, and the afternoon sunlight fell beautifully on the dark oak floor.

The air was filled with the faint scent of beeswax and old books. A classic gramophone stood quietly in the corner, and the glass door of the wine cabinet next to it reflected the light from the window.

This is the partner's territory.

Dylan walked to the wine cabinet, opened the glass door, and took out a bottle of Macallan and two crystal glasses.

He glanced at Klaus, then at Link, and then added another cup.

"whisky?"

Klaus was already seated in the leather chair.

"Fill it up. By the way, can Link drink this?"

Link smiled.

"As you know, people of Chinese descent aren't always very good at these things. But since you two are in the mood, I'll have a drink with you."

"Not being good at something doesn't mean you can't learn it."

Dylan unscrewed the cork, and the amber liquid poured into three glasses with a crisp, clear sound.

"A good lawyer needs to know a little bit about everything. You never know whether your next client will have whiskey or sake on their desk."

He took a cedarwood cigar box from the drawer and pushed it in front of Klaus.

Klaus skillfully cut the cap off the cigar, struck a match, and the flame swirled twice at the end of the cigar.

Dylan lit one for himself and then pushed the wooden box toward Link.

Link waved his hand to decline, picked up the whiskey glass and took a sip. The liquor slid down his throat, leaving a warm and lingering aftertaste.

The three of them then started drinking in the office.

Klaus took off his coat, unbuttoned two buttons at the collar, and spoke louder and louder.

Dylan leaned back in his chair, a cigar between his fingers, the smoke swirling slowly in the light from the ceiling.

Link held his glass and drank slowly, but every time Dylan and Klaus's glasses were empty, he would pick up the bottle and refill them.

After a few rounds of drinks, Klaus put down his glass and slammed his hand on the oak desk, causing the whiskey in the crystal glass to slosh around.

"Dylan, if you ask me, you really missed out on the Winthrop case this time."

What are the differences between Link's approach and your plan/idea?

Very close.

You've considered all the things he's thinking about. Since you've considered them all, why don't you receive him yourself?

Dylan did not answer immediately.

He placed his cigar on the edge of the ashtray, picked up his glass and slowly turned it around, his gaze landing on Link.

"You're very good."

There was not a trace of perfunctoriness in his tone:

"I've read the court transcripts, and I also got a briefing from federal agents about the court shooting."

Every word you said in court was precise and to the point, without any unnecessary words.

Most importantly, you considered not only the law itself, but also things outside the law:

The minefield of political influence, public opinion, and racial issues.

You drew a map in your mind beforehand, marking all the red lines, and then you walked step by step along the gaps in the red lines to the finish line.

That's talent.

He paused, then took a sip of his drink.

"A good lawyer's skill lies not in the courtroom, but outside of it."

It's not about the legal statutes, but about the complex web of personal connections and social influence. If you can do this, it means you're much more than just someone who can recite legal articles.

"Thank you for your recognition."

Link put down his glass, leaned forward slightly, and nodded, accepting the instruction.

Dylan's gaze then turned to Klaus:

"As for that case at the time, it wasn't that I didn't want to take it, but that it wasn't my responsibility to take it."

If I were still that naive, penniless young man from twenty years ago, I would have accepted it without hesitation.

But twenty years later, I am no longer like that.

I am a senior partner at Curtis Law Firm; my name is displayed on a bronze plaque outside the door.

This means that I no longer represent just myself; I represent the entire law firm.

Your client wants to keep a low profile and handle things as discreetly as possible, so having me personally handle this is the most attention-grabbing and attention-grabbing approach.

He picked up the cigar again, took a puff, and the smoke slowly escaped from his nose.

"I've already given you the plan and ideas."

You can hire any lawyer to execute this plan.

The results may not be better than if I did it myself, but it will be sufficient to satisfy your client.

I just didn't expect that you would end up hiring lawyers from our firm.

"The result was satisfactory."

Klaus snorted. He didn't say anything more.

He understood his old friend's predicament. Over the years, their relationship might have faded somewhat due to their busy schedules and differing positions, but some things didn't need explanation.

He picked up his glass and downed the rest of his whiskey in one gulp.

"Alright, let's not dwell on the past. Let's get down to business."

From now on, Link will serve as our company and association's authorized representative throughout the entire law firm.

I've decided to sign next year's legal aid contract here again.

Dylan nodded.

This is to be expected.

From the moment Klaus personally drove Link back, he knew there was no doubt that the contract was a done deal.

"The contract terms remain the same; the legal department will handle the details."

Dylan put down his cigar, crossed his hands on the table, and looked back at Link, this time with a more serious expression.

"Link, now let's talk about you."

He took out a prepared contract from the drawer.

He placed the contract on the table.

"This is the new employment contract."

From today onwards, you are no longer a junior intern lawyer.

You will be officially promoted to team leader level lawyer, with an independent office and independent case handling authority.

You can form your own group.

The annual salary will be increased by 1.5 times, plus a 3 percentage point increase in the case commission rate.

Benefits and compensation will be in accordance with the standards for team leader lawyers, effective next month.

Link looked down at the contract.

His name was already printed on the cover, the gold lettering gleaming slightly under the light.

He didn't rush to flip through it, but instead raised his eyes to meet Dylan's gaze.

"I accept this contract, but I have one condition."

Dylan raised an eyebrow slightly. "Go on."

"I want Robin Ketchum's office! And I want Benny Frith to be my first team member."

I think it's time to clean up the clutter in the law firm.

Dylan looked at him, remained silent for a moment, and then the corners of his mouth slowly curved into a smile.

"Granted."

Link picked up the pen on the table and signed his name at the end of the contract.

The strokes are crisp and clean, without the slightest hesitation.

He closed the contract and pushed it back to Dylan.

"You will see the changes I have brought to the law, Mr. Dylan."

Stay tuned.