Law America, the Devil's Agent

Kona took off her helmet, and her blonde hair cascaded down from under the rim, becoming disheveled in the cold wind.

She placed her helmet on the fuel tank, straddled the motorcycle with one leg, and her slender figure was encased in a dark brown leather jacket.

His azure eyes swept coldly over the group of people in front of him who hadn't yet managed to raise their phones again.

"What are you doing?"

Are they blocking my way here so I'll call 911 and say there's a mass riot here?

Or do you want me to play through all the security footage from Curtis's law firm and crop out each of your faces to make evidence of harassment?

The shout was so powerful that no one answered.

A reporter holding a sign for a local Philadelphia news station opened his mouth as if to say that he was from a legitimate media outlet, but Cona didn't give him a chance to speak.

"You say there are legitimate journalists among you?"

Reputable journalists wouldn't wait in the parking lot behind a law firm for a lawyer whose trial hasn't even started yet, asking leading questions that even prosecutors wouldn't dare ask in court.

Are you media or a circus?

She took her phone out of her pocket, turned on the camera, and held it up to them as well.

"I'm writing this down right now! As you all know, if the crime of harassing lawyers at the law firm's entrance is formally filed, then you'll really be facing legal trouble."

Are you going to sue the law firm?

This mob remained completely silent.

Celine and Benny quickly squeezed through the crowd and stood on either side of Link, protecting him from behind.

Benny rolled up the newspaper in his hand and stuffed it into his briefcase, then stepped aside to block a social media blogger who was still trying to squeeze forward.

Celine used her slender body to shield Link from the group, holding the notebook to her chest, and followed closely behind Link.

The three people and one motorcycle squeezed into a small, tight square in the middle of the parking lot, slowly retreating towards the fire escape door at the back of the law firm.

As the fire escape door slammed shut behind me, the auxiliary lights in the parking lot still flickered in the thin mist, and the roar of the engines seemed to linger in the cold air of the corridor, buzzing softly.

……

The corridor finally quieted down. Benny leaned against the wall, took a deep breath, and handed Link the crumpled newspaper.

"Team leader, these people all suddenly appeared this morning."

  

Mary said that when she arrived at the law firm at 7:30, there was already a crowd of people blocking the front door.

There were people waiting at the back door, and the group in the parking lot had been hiding behind trash cans for almost an hour, just waiting for you to come.

He took his phone out of his pocket, pulled out a few notifications, and handed them to Link.

Several similar messages were scrolling across the screen:

The Philadelphia General Hospital serial killer case: an exclusive look at the suspect's mental illness history.

The victim's family is calling for justice; can the legal team provide an explanation?

……

Link took the phone and read it through from beginning to end.

Each push notification has a different angle, but the core message is exactly the same.

It's no coincidence; someone else coordinated their statements.

Link closed his eyes and pondered.

Suddenly, as if remembering something, his previously gloomy face brightened instantly, and he calmly said:

"I went to wash my face to refresh myself, and at the same time, I charged my phone and collected information."

"Call Kona, we're about to have a meeting!"

……

Half an hour later, Link pushed open the door to his office.

The meeting room door had already been opened beforehand.

Benny stood at the door, holding a stack of documents, looking anxious.

Celine stood beside him, holding a laptop with more than a dozen browser tabs open on the screen.

Kona stood by the window, holding a cup of coffee in her hand. When she saw Link come in, she waved the cup at him.

Good morning, internet celebrity lawyer.

Her tone was teasing, and her eyes were full of laughter.

Link took the hot coffee Celine handed him and pulled out a chair to sit down.

"What? Do you want to join my group and become one of my members?"

I was wondering why you were riding a motorcycle to work today. But it inadvertently helped me out of an awkward situation.

Hearing Link's somewhat naive response, Kona rolled her eyes and then said:

"Riding a motorcycle is my freedom."

As for becoming your team member... I think I'm here to join your case, but that's my own choice and doesn't mean I have to become your team member.

I was hoping to learn something from you in this major case, such as your personal qualities.

"Alright, welcome to the team. I'll make sure you don't miss out on your help today."

Link smiled and stepped forward to shake Cona's hand.

Benny and Celine also shook hands with the young lady from the partner's family.

"Finally, you've come to thank me for saving the damsel in distress today. I thought you'd forgotten, Attorney Link."

How long were I blocked at the entrance today before I arrived?

"It takes about ten minutes to get from the parking lot to the main entrance?"

"A dozen minutes is enough for you to make three short videos."

I just browsed TikTok and there was a headline that said, "A serial killer's villainous lawyer ignores questions from the victim's family."

The first comment was, "He looks like a cold-blooded animal."

The second one is even more amazing!

"Asians, no wonder, they've never had any compassion."

Kona asked, "Do you want to hear more?"

"No need, I can basically guess the rest."

Link took a sip of coffee, placed the cup on the table, crossed his hands on his knees, and scanned the faces of everyone in the conference room:

"The public outcry was within my expectations. But it did come earlier than I thought."

"You should all share what you know about the situation."

Benny was the first to speak.

He spread the stack of documents on the table and pulled out a few pages.

"This morning alone, I have received no fewer than ten calls from the media, including tabloids, local TV stations, and several people who claim to be 'independent investigative journalists'."

The problems focus on several areas:

First, Hawthorne's psychiatric diagnosis pertains to a secondary mental behavior and cannot be used to exonerate him.

Second, are you exploiting program loopholes to exonerate murderers?

Third, the victim's family has expressed strong dissatisfaction with your representation. Have you considered withdrawing from this arrangement?

"The wording of these questions is almost identical."

Celine turned her laptop toward Link, pointing to several published articles on the screen:

The Philadelphia Inquirer's legal section published a lengthy article this morning about the Hawthorne case, titled:

The Silent Defendant: Psychiatric Files Behind a Serial Murder Case

The content extensively quotes psychiatric diagnostic records submitted by Philadelphia General Hospital, and devotes considerable space to describing Hawthorne's "paranoid personality disorder" and "emotional blunting"...

Then, the conversation shifted, and the speaker began to question whether the defense was trying to exploit procedural loopholes to help a "known mentally ill person" escape legal punishment.

They even mentioned you at the end!

They say you're "a young lawyer who rose to fame for your composure during a high-profile courtroom shooting," and now you're trying to use that same calmness to cover up "a defendant who may be more complex than he appears."

Link frowned:

"The person who wrote this report has a very sharp eye."

I hadn't even mentioned this to you, I didn't expect he had already thought of it.

Yes, I did intend to use information related to our clients' mental illness in my later plans to exonerate them.

I didn't expect they'd already started desensitization here; it seems they're preparing to close this path completely.

"This is not entirely a coincidence in the reporting."

Kona said coldly, placing the coffee cup on the table:

"This is a draft that someone wrote in advance and distributed to different media outlets for simultaneous publication."

I read this article in the Philadelphia Inquirer, and then I read reports from two local tabloids. The paragraphs they quoted were almost identical, and even the adjectives were from the same vocabulary.

This is the first wave of the information war!