Law America, the Devil's Agent

"Not for now. But we need to be prepared for this option."

Link turned around and leaned against the windowsill:

"The families of the four victims are now firmly in the hands of the hospital and the prosecution, and they may think they are just seeking justice for their loved ones."

I will talk to them and their lawyers when the time is right.

But it's not the right time yet.

Benny wrote all of this down word for word, then closed his notebook and stood up briskly.

"I will contact Hawthorne's family now. Visitation appointments and the compilation of victim information will also proceed simultaneously."

"Call Celine in. She reports directly to me."

"clear."

Link watched him disappear at the end of the corridor, a slight smile appearing on his lips.

He led a team in his previous life, so he still has basic judgment about people.

Although Benny was a bit timid and insecure, he was hardworking.

More importantly, he has the brains to judge who is worth following. Such a person, once given resources and trust, will generate real output.

There was a gentle knock on the door.

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Celine walked in carrying a stack of folders.

"Team Leader Link, what do you need me to do?"

"We have compiled all the cases in federal court over the past three years that have been cited in criminal trials involving whistleblowers within the Philadelphia healthcare system, violations of narcotics control, and psychiatric diagnoses."

Create a summary index: case number, cause of action, judgment summary, and applicable legal provisions.

Link paused briefly, then continued, "Also, find all the court records of the Valsk law firm's O'Mill team over the past five years."

The focus is on criminal defense and medical malpractice cases.

I want to see their courtroom style and their methods of cross-examination.

"Okay, Senior Link."

Celine nodded in affirmation after hearing this, then turned and left with brisk steps.

The office fell silent.

He sat back down at his desk, opened the cover of the police's preliminary investigation report, and began to read it carefully.

Time slipped away silently in the shadows cast by the blinds. By the time Link finished reading the last page, the sky outside had turned a deep indigo.

Having completed his basic tasks for the day, he stood up, draped his suit jacket over his arm, and walked toward the door.

The dim lighting in the parking lot made the silver-gray Corolla look particularly dilapidated.

Linkla opened the car door, inserted the key into the lock, and turned it...

The engine emitted a dry groan and then fell silent.

He tried again. Still, it wouldn't light.

the third time.

The engine stopped responding completely, and even the lights on the instrument panel were flickering weakly.

"Shit. Japan's industrial waste."

Link muttered a curse under his breath.

He was just considering whether to call an Uber when a car horn sounded from ahead.

“Ding Di—”

A black Cadillac stopped a few meters away, and the driver's side window slowly rolled down.

Kona McLean leaned half her head out of the car window and smiled:

"Isn't this Team Leader Link?"

It's been in the newspapers, why are you still driving this beat-up car?

"It's not like it was back then. You made a fortune on the Winthrop case."

Faced with teasing from acquaintances, Link smiled helplessly:

"I've been too busy lately and haven't had time to think about it. I really should replace it."

"Come on up, I'll see you off."

Kona turned to the side and pushed open the passenger door.

Link did not refuse.

He had ridden in Kona's car before when he was helping her with filing documents for a commercial lawsuit she was handling; the two would occasionally drive home together.

The Cadillac drove out of the parking lot and merged into Philadelphia's busy traffic.

The neon lights along the street cast flowing streaks of light on the car windows.

While waiting, Kona and Link started chatting casually.

The commercial lawsuit she recently took on has just concluded; the other party relented during the out-of-court settlement, making it a narrow victory.

Link briefly mentioned the Hawthorne case he was handling, outlining the scale of the case and the background of the opposing legal team.

"Vanske? The Philadelphia hospital serial killer case?"

Kona clicked her tongue slightly: "That's a big deal. I heard the victims' families in that case were protesting outside the courthouse with signs. Some media outlets were also following it closely."

"The pressure is considerable," Link admitted.

"But you took it."

"Robin signed the contract. I'm just cleaning up his mess."

"Come on."

Kona glanced at him.

"My dad said you could have simply returned the contract or given it to someone else. But you didn't."

Link didn't deny it. He looked out the car window, watching the streetlights flash by one after another.

The two were silent for a moment, then Kona broke the silence in a more relaxed tone:

"Do you know that you are now the first person in our batch to become the team leader lawyer?"

How did you manage to win that difficult case all by yourself? What was your thought process behind it?

"You've taken on a lot of cases, and they'll be done soon."

"I'm not kidding, Link."

Kona's tone was unusually serious.

This noblewoman, who had always lived a somewhat carefree and unrestrained life, continued to ask:

"You really are the first one among our group."

Warren was still working as a lackey in his group, Harris was still waiting for documents by the copier, and although I was my father's daughter, I was still a few years away from becoming a group leader.

She paused for a moment, as if considering her words.

"After our conversation that day, my father spoke highly of you."

I grew up listening to my father talk about law, law firms, and how to be a good lawyer.

From the tone of his voice when he mentioned you to me, I could tell that you are the kind of good lawyer he approves of.

The green light turned red, and the vehicles stopped.

When Cona asked for his advice, Link remained silent for a moment.

He is not someone who is easily swayed by flattery, but he can distinguish between flattery and genuine recognition.

He finally responded: "There is only one difference between a good lawyer and an ordinary lawyer."

Kona's fingers tightened slightly on the steering wheel.

"Ordinary lawyers solve problems for their clients. Good lawyers solve problems for their clients, and in doing so, they also solve their own problems."

Kona turned her head slightly, her brows furrowing, but she did not interrupt.

"The law is not only written in the code, but also in people, in the exchange of interests, and in every detail that you think is unimportant."

He turned his head and looked at Kona.

"You are not incapable."

I've seen your business litigation; it was handled very well.

But you've been following the rules all along. The rules are written for ordinary lawyers. Good lawyers use the rules; the best lawyers rewrite the rules.

The red light turns green.

Kona stepped on the gas, paused for a few seconds, then smiled softly and said:

"My father said similar things, but he was more tactful."

"I've never been a tactful person."

"I know."

Kona turned to look at him, her eyes filled with a mixture of curiosity and wistfulness:

"I used to think you were a nerd."

You know, the kind of Chinese intern who eats cold pizza with her head down in the break room and never speaks loudly to anyone.

Out of curiosity, I gave you the task, just to learn more about you and tease you.

I apologize for my previous prejudice and bad taste.

"So this is how you saw me before?"

Link smiled.

"I thought you were interested in me every time you asked me to do something."

The two of them laughed at the same time, and the atmosphere in the car relaxed.

"Now that you've become the team leader and made it into the newspaper—"

Kona's tone softened again as she turned the steering wheel at an intersection:

"It wouldn't be right not to celebrate. There's a nice bar in the old town that makes pretty good drinks."

"How's it going, Team Leader Link?"

Link looked out the window at that familiar street corner.

He had passed by this alley many times, but had never gone in.

The original owner of this body never went to bars.

Bars are places for people with lives, but he was just an intern burdened with over 300,000 yuan in student loans, huddled in a cubicle proofreading security applications.

But things are different now.

"Okay. Let's celebrate!"

"Finally, Link has figured it out."

Kona whistled.

The two quickly arrived at the bar, pulled the car over to the side of the road, and turned off the engine.

The two opened the car door, and the Philadelphia night wind rushed in, carrying a bit of chill, yet it made them exceptionally clear-headed.

"I'll treat you to dinner today, as a way of thanking you for your guidance."

……

The two arrived at this jazz bar hidden deep in the alleys of the old town.

Kona was clearly very familiar with this place.

She pushed open the door without hesitation, walked straight to the bar, and gestured to the bartender.

A moment later, two glasses of whiskey were brought to the table. Ice cubes clinked in the crystal glasses.

Have you been to a place like this before?

Kona picked up her wine glass and turned her head to look at him.

Her eyes appeared deeper than usual in the dim light.

"I've been here before."

Link picked up another glass and took a sip. The peaty flavor exploded on his tongue before slowly sliding down his throat.

In his past life in China, what kind of drinking parties hadn't he frequented?

From upscale bars on the top floor of the CBD to hole-in-the-wall restaurants in the corners of urban villages, different drinking parties have different rules, but alcohol itself never makes him lose control.

He held the wine glass in a relaxed posture, his shoulders not tense, his gaze steadily sweeping over every corner in the dim environment.

Kona glanced at him, a satisfied smile curving her lips.

"I was wondering if you were nervous. You never seemed to drink at law firm dinners before."

"The past is the past."

She nodded and didn't ask any more questions.

The saxophone tune gradually shifted from languid to upbeat, and several couples left their seats at the bar, swaying gently to the rhythm on the dance floor.

There are no lights and dry ice like in a dance hall here, only music and shadows. There aren't many people, but the atmosphere is as relaxed as soaking in warm water.

"Shall we jump?"

Kona put down her glass and gestured with her chin towards him.

Link was about to say no, but she had already stood up and pulled his sleeve towards the dance floor with two fingers.

"Since we're already here!"

She had learned this Chinese phrase from somewhere, and its pronunciation was strange, but it was perfectly appropriate for the moment.

"Alright, since we're already here!"

Link chuckled, finished the last sip of whiskey in his glass, stood up, and followed her into the swaying shadows.

Two figures, seemingly close yet distant, embraced amidst the mesmerizing camouflage.

The alcohol acted as a catalyst, gradually drawing them closer.

After two songs, Kona leaned back against the bar, a thin layer of sweat beading on her forehead.

She picked up her glass again, downed half of it in one gulp, and whispered in Link's ear:

I'm going to the restroom.

He then disappeared around the corner of the corridor.

Link stood alone by the bar, wiping the sweat from his brow with a tissue, preparing to call the bartender for a glass of iced water.

Then he heard a familiar voice.

He turned his head in the direction of the sound and, sure enough, saw the person in the booth area against the wall.

Los Thomson.

The black drug dealer who had tried to sell him drugs at the gym was sitting in a booth tonight, wearing a dark casual shirt and chatting with a few men next to him.

Link approached slowly and stealthily, observing from the shadows.

He saw Los pull a small, transparent, sealed bag out of his pocket.

The bag was small, about the size of a fingernail, and contained a few brightly colored pills.

He placed the bag in his palm, let the men glance at it, then quickly closed his fingers and put it back in his pocket.

His eyebrows were raised, his lips moved as he enthusiastically promoted his product, and a confident smile graced his face.

Two men seemed tempted; they took out banknotes, stuffed them into his hand, took the medicine, and returned to their respective areas.

Soon they all left with their female companions, some of them even appearing somewhat delirious.

Link took in the scene and a slight smile appeared on his lips.

This black guy has a really wide range of business lines.

They sell steroids at gyms and things that look like soft psychedelics at bars.

From building muscle to delaying ejaculation, from enhancing physical fitness to increasing pleasure, he seems to be the kind of person who can always find profit opportunities in the cracks of the market.

When Kona returned from the restroom, she followed his gaze and glanced towards the booth.

"What's wrong?"

"It's nothing, just ran into someone I know."

Kona didn't press him further; she simply picked up her glass again and swirled it at him.

Link also raised his glass, clinked it together, and took a sip.

If it were up to his usual style, he should have left by now—better to avoid trouble.

But just after he walked past the black guy and continued dancing with Kona,

Los's slightly arrogant voice cut through the noisy background noise and clearly reached his ears.

"This is a great product from Philadelphia General Hospital, a potent formula that comes directly from the laboratory and can't be bought on the market."

Don't doubt it. My good friend at the hospital got me this medicine; it's much purer than the stuff you find on the street. Try it tonight, and if you're not satisfied, come back for a refund.

Link stood to the side, his glass of wine suspended in mid-air, and everything in the bar maintained the same rhythm as before.

He thought for a moment, then his brows slowly relaxed, as if a plan had come to mind.

Kona looked at her with a puzzled expression.

Link said with a smile, clearly in a good mood:

"There's going to be a good show later, so stay tuned."

Link straightened his cuffs and turned to Kona, saying:

"I'm going to the restroom. You can continue."

Kona held her whiskey glass and glanced at him with her blue eyes.

She didn't ask why, she just nodded.

In the short time she had spent with Link, she had been deeply impressed by the man's confidence.

Link walked down the corridor and pushed open the bathroom door.

He then quickly pulled his phone out of his suit pocket and dialed a number.

It rang four times before being answered.

"Mr. Klaus, I met a drug dealer at a jazz bar in the old town."

I need you to contact someone I know in the drug administration or narcotics department to report the illegal prescription drug trade here.

The sooner the better.

There wasn't a single unnecessary word on the other end of the phone.

Send me your location. Fifteen minutes.

Link hung up the phone, sent the bar's location, then pushed open the door and walked back to the bar.

He picked up his wine glass again, his posture as relaxed as when he left.

"Why did you take so long?"

Kona turned her head to look at him, a mischievous smirk playing on her lips.

"Queue up," Link replied with a smile.

Kona chuckled softly and didn't ask any more questions.

The two continued their banter and jokes, but it wasn't long before they were interrupted by a commotion.

About fifteen minutes later, the bar's door was suddenly smashed open.

Six men in plainclothes rushed in from several different directions at the same time. Two blocked the back door, two guarded the aisles on both sides of the booth area, and the remaining two went straight to the bar and showed their identification to the bartender.

The leader, a burly man, shouted loudly:

"The Drug Administration and the Narcotics Control Bureau are conducting joint enforcement operations."

Everyone, stay back!

The two plainclothes officers then walked towards the booth area against the wall.

They moved without hesitation, their eyes fixed on the furtive black man in the corner.

"Put your hands on the table! Don't move!"

Los's body stiffened.

He slowly moved his fingers from the edge of his pocket and placed them on the table, his ten fingers spread out.

The obsequious smile he wore just minutes before when he was promoting the drug to a customer was still on his face.

An undercover officer pulled three transparent, sealed bags from his trouser pocket, containing brightly colored pills.

Another plainclothes officer pulled out a larger sealed bag from under the booth cushion, containing at least dozens of pills.

"You are suspected of illegal possession and sale of prescription drugs, violating the federal Controlled Substances Act. You have the right to remain silent—"

But Los did not remain silent.

The moment he heard his full name, he sprang up from his booth like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, shoving aside a plainclothes officer next to him who hadn't yet stood up, and rushed two steps toward the back door.

His speed was astonishing, and his muscles, honed in the gym, were put to full use as he fled for his life.

But as soon as he rushed to the back door, the burly man who was already waiting there pressed him against the wall, his cheek against the cold brick surface, his hands tied behind his back.

The handcuffs clicked shut with considerable force.

Link didn't stand up at all.

He sat at the bar, holding his whiskey glass, watching through the gaps in the crowd as Los was led out of the booth area.

"Is this the show you were talking about?"

Kona asked, puzzled.

"The performance isn't over yet."

Link finished the last sip of whiskey and gently placed the empty glass on the bar:

"Wait here for me. I'm going out to say hello to someone I know."

Outside the bar, the night wind was biting.

The red and blue lights of the police car flashed at the street corner, and two patrol cars were parked on the side of the road.

Los Thomson kept his head down, the handcuffs on his wrists gleaming coldly under the streetlights.

He kept arguing.

But no one responded to him, so it had no effect.

Just as he was about to be shoved into the back seat of the police car, a voice came from the side of the car.

"Wait a moment."

All eyes turned to the source of the sound.

Link stood under the streetlight, his hands in his pockets, walking at a leisurely pace.

He walked to the police car, showed the contents of his phone to the plainclothes captain, and then quietly slipped a few green tickets into his palm.

The two exchanged a few words in hushed tones, then the plainclothes officer nodded, took a half-step back, and made room for Link.

Los raised his head.

His eyes narrowed to slits under the streetlights, first with confusion, then with recollection, and then with a glimmer mixed with shock.

Gym, steroids, warning...

"You are—you are Attorney Link!"

"It's me."

Link smiled slightly and bowed slightly, saying, "Curtis Law Firm, Link."

"Long time no see, Mr. Los. It seems your connection with law enforcement runs deeper than you thought."

Like a drowning man grabbing a piece of driftwood, Los jerked forward, the handcuffs behind him clanging loudly.

"Help me! Help me! Attorney Link!"

[One criminal case has been detected. Accept?]

Link looked at the notification panel that appeared in his field of vision and a smile appeared on his lips.

"Mr. Los, my promise still stands."

I'm also involved in litigation, and although it's not cheap, I'll give you a 10% discount.

Do you need my legal aid?

"We need it! We need it!"

[Receive]

Link took a business card out of his pocket, held it between his fingers, and handed it to Los.

Los's hands were cuffed and he couldn't receive the business card, which was stuffed into his shirt pocket by an undercover officer.

"Yes, Mr. Los. From now on, I am your lawyer."

I'll be visiting you at the detention center tomorrow morning. We'll need to have a proper talk then about the source of those drugs you mentioned in the bar.

He straightened up, nodded to the plainclothes officer, then turned and walked towards the bar entrance.

Kona leaned against the doorframe, holding two refilled glasses of wine. When she saw him come back, she handed him one of the glasses.

"You really know a lot of people."

"Lawyers have a wide circle of friends."

He took the glass and sipped the wine.

"You call someone you arrested yourself a friend?"

Link grinned and said, "Everyone who needs legal aid is a friend of a lawyer."

Even if there is no demand, demand can be created.