Law America, the Devil's Agent

The next morning, Link had already parked the beat-up Corolla in the parking space.

He pulled out the key and straightened his collar in the rearview mirror: he was still wearing the same slightly worn suit as before.

That decent-looking dress was sent to a tailor shop yesterday because it was damaged.

I'll make do for now and buy another one over the weekend.

When I pushed open the glass door of the law firm, there were already people walking around in the corridor.

A lawyer carrying a file folder came out of the break room, paused for a moment when he saw Link, then turned slightly to the side and nodded.

"Team Leader Link."

"morning."

Link nodded in response and walked forward with steady steps.

He read something in the other person's eyes:

That's respect.

A more practical respect for power itself.

Unlike the last time he walked in wearing a custom-made suit, these gazes were curious and well-meaning.

This time, he walked in wearing an old suit, and the gazes he received were respectful, seeking confirmation and a desire to get closer.

Team leader lawyer.

In this mid-level law firm comprised of dozens of lawyers, he had already crossed the threshold into the leadership.

He was very clear about the structure of Curtis Law Firm:

The team is led by three senior partners, with eight or nine team leaders, followed by regular lawyers and a number of interns.

From now on, he is one of those eight or nine people.

When I got to the front desk, Mary was still on duty.

When she saw Link walking over, a smile brighter than usual bloomed on her face.

"Good morning, Team Leader Link."

  

Good morning, Mary.

"The promotion notice for the gentleman came down yesterday afternoon; it was posted on the official website, in the business group, and in internal announcements."

Mary picked up a prepared folder from the table and pushed it in front of Link:

"This is an explanation of the relevant benefits and administrative procedures for team leader level lawyers."

Mr. Dylan instructed me to explain this to you in detail.

In addition, your personal assistant has been arranged.

She pressed the intercom, and a moment later, a young girl walked briskly from the other end of the corridor.

She looked to be in her early twenties, with shoulder-length burgundy hair and some light freckles on her face.

Celine was slightly out of breath when she stood in front of Link, clearly having jogged all the way there.

"Sister Mary!"

She nodded to Mary first, then turned to Link, her voice tinged with nervousness:

"Hello, Team Leader Link, I'm Celine Kenneth. I'll be your personal assistant starting today."

Link nodded to her in a friendly manner.

It is standard practice at Curtiss Law Firm to assign a personal assistant to a lead attorney.

His predecessor, Robin, also had one, except that Robin's assistant was his own wife.

The old man bundled the couple's salaries together and transferred them through the law firm's finance department.

The administrative tasks and schedule management that should have been handled by the assistant were all assigned to the junior lawyers under her.

Link and Benny were the ones assigned to this task.

"Temple University?" Link suddenly asked.

Celine paused for a moment, looked down at the small school badge on her scarf, and blushed slightly.

"Yes, this is a school commemorative scarf. Do you recognize this school badge?"

Link smiled:

"I also graduated from Temple Law School, a few years ahead of you. Logically, you should call me senior."

Celine's expression immediately relaxed, and the tense look on her face finally melted away.

"Okay, Senior Link."

Mary smiled and pushed the folder towards Link.

He signed a few documents and completed all the administrative procedures for the team leader's lawyer.

Celine stood to the side with her notebook in hand, quickly getting into work mode.

She began by giving a concise report on the day's schedule and the progress of the handover of Robinck's belongings.

She still has the earnestness typical of a newcomer, but she is clear-headed and doesn't waste words.

Link nodded after listening.

"Let's go to the office."

Celine responded and led the way.

The two walked down the corridor, past countless rooms, and finally stopped in front of a dark brown wooden door.

Link had stood through that door countless times.

Each time, he was carrying heavy documents, enduring the worst insults, and being loudly criticized by an incompetent person.

But now, everything has changed.

He pushed open the door.

The office was much more spacious than he remembered.

Robin's messy decorations and traces have been cleaned up completely.

The blinds were pulled to their highest position, and sunlight poured in through the large windows.

This is my own office.

It's no longer that cramped, confined cubicle that oppresses the soul.

Celine followed him in, placed a neatly organized case list on the desk, and said softly:

"Please familiarize yourself with the area first, and call me anytime if you need anything."

Link walked to the leather office chair and sat down.

My gaze swept over the folder labels on the desktop:

Those were all unsolved cases left behind by Robin Ketchum, numbering about a dozen.

Most of them were minor contract disputes and commercial lawsuits, and there were also a few preservation applications that hadn't even been filed.

Judging from his unplanned summarization of information about these cases, it's no wonder he's always at the bottom.

He had just opened the first case file when there was a knock on the door.

"Please come in."

Celine pushed open the door, and someone followed behind her.

Benny Frith stood in the doorway, wearing a light blue shirt and holding a thick file folder in his hands.

With a complex expression on his face, he bowed slightly and then said loudly to Link:

"Team Leader Link, I'm here to report."

Link glanced at him, then at Celine.

Celine understood, quietly slipped out, and closed the door behind her.

"Have a seat, Benny."

Benny sat down on the guest chair opposite him.

"I've listed you as the first member of my group, and Mr. Dylan has already approved it."

Furthermore, your internship is officially valid today; from now on, you are a full-fledged lawyer.

Benny took a deep breath, then stood up and bowed deeply to Link.

It was a more formal bow, deeper and longer than the one at the door.

After sitting down and catching his breath, he continued:

"Team Leader Link, can I ask you something?"

"you say."

"How did you become like this?"

Benny looked up, his eyes filled with a thirst for knowledge.

Link looked into his eyes.

He knew that he wasn't asking how Link got the team leader position, or how he won the Winthrop case.

But the more fundamental question is:

How did someone like him, trapped in the mire, manage to break free?

Even after witnessing it firsthand, he still struggled to understand its core meaning.

Link leaned back in his chair and looked at him.

"A good lawyer is essentially someone who finds a way out of a problem."

Find a way out of the client's problems, find a way out of the deadlock in the case, and find a way out for your own life.

If you can't find a way out for yourself, why should your clients believe you can find a way out for them?

Benny didn't respond; he just listened attentively.

"Also, Robin has never cared about us."

To him, you and I are just consumables, used and discarded.

Consumables have no outlet, because they don't need an outlet. Consumables only need to be consumed.

He paused briefly, his gaze falling on Benny's face.

"But we are not consumables."

You are Benny Frith, a law school graduate of exceptional talent; your professional competence is beyond question. No document you've proofread has ever been returned.

These are all your values.

But Robin will never tell you these things!

Because he wants you to doubt yourself and undermine your sense of deserveness.

This allows them to control your thoughts and extract every last drop of value from you.

Benny lowered his head and blinked hard.

He recalled those late nights, those humiliating years and those words.

And now, the person sitting across from him tells him:

The dignity that was crushed was not because he was not good enough, but because of the insidious schemes set up by others who controlled him!

The silence lasted for a moment.

Then Benny looked up and took a deep breath.

"Thank you, Team Leader Link, for your guidance and for answering my questions."

Link nodded.

Benny is definitely not stupid; stupid people can't get into law school and become lawyers.

After calming down, Benny quickly organized his thoughts, reopened the file folder, and spoke in a calm tone:

"But now, team leader, the situation is a bit urgent, and you're in some trouble."

"Oh?"

"Robin felt very threatened after seeing your outstanding performance in court, and rumors were spreading throughout the law firm."

He was eager to find a case to prove himself again.

So, while working overtime on the weekend, he took on a big case without thinking and signed the contract without proper evaluation.

Now that he's gone, the case has automatically transferred to your name.

"What case?"

Benny pulled the first document out of the file folder and placed it on the table.

The first page of the document is a copy of a criminal engagement agreement, with a copy of the police's preliminary investigation report underneath.

Link remained calm and said without changing his expression:

"Criminal defense? Defendant or plaintiff?"

"Defendant, team leader."

Upon hearing this, Link slowly frowned.

Anne unfolded them completely and handed them to Link.

His gaze swept over the top few lines of bolded headings:

Philadelphia District Attorney's Office v. Nathaniel Hawthorne.

A series of murders, resulting in multiple deaths and injuries.

Benny's voice lowered.

"What the client asked for was a not guilty plea."

Robin has already signed a commission agreement with him!