Law America, the Devil's Agent

Leclerc Restaurant in downtown Philadelphia.

This brownstone building, originally constructed during the Gilded Age, was once the reception room of a private club.

The gilded reliefs remaining on the dome and the hand-painted wallpaper on the walls still retain their appearance from the last century.

It was later transformed into one of Philadelphia's most renowned French restaurants, accepting reservations only and not offering individual seating; private rooms need to be booked weeks in advance.

The wall lamps on both sides of the corridor cast a warm yellow glow onto the deep burgundy wallpaper.

The air was filled with the aroma of butter and truffles.

In the innermost private room, Miles White was standing in front of a full-length mirror, adjusting the collar of his custom-made suit.

The fabric is brownish-gray, and the tailoring is exquisite.

However, the buttons around the waist and abdomen were noticeably tight.

He looked at his slightly protruding belly in the mirror and laughed self-deprecatingly.

"It's been too long since we've taken any action."

The great physique I developed during my service in the Marine Corps ultimately couldn't be maintained.

"That's because your narcotics bureau is too complacent."

Elena White sat on a velvet sofa by the window, touching up her lipstick in front of a small round mirror.

Today she wore a deep emerald green velvet dress, the cut of which hugged her proud curves and cinched downwards.

Her long brown hair was loosely tied back, revealing two lustrous pearls on her earlobes.

"These days, those congressmen and members of parliament are loosening restrictions on drugs in every way, so what jobs do you people have?"

Every day is just occupying an empty space.

Miles shrugged and didn't argue.

  

That's why I'm considering making a change.

Try moving to another system before the trend takes off.

I've already put in a good word with the FDA, and with the help I gained from the Blood Hand Gang case, the transfer shouldn't be a problem.

Elena closed the lipstick cap, glanced at him, and understood the meaning behind his words:

He finally listened to his sarcastic advice beforehand.

"You're actually thinking clearly this time."

She said that her tone still carried a hint of the disrespect typical between siblings, but her voice had softened.

Then she changed the subject, her gaze sweeping around the private room:

"Leclerc"

You really went all out. I've never seen you bring me to a place like this before.

"I brought you here today."

Miles sat down opposite her and spread his napkin on his lap:

"Take another look at who we're hosting tonight."

Link, the Chinese-American lawyer at Curtiss Law Firm.

He is not simple at all.

As you've seen, he orchestrated the downfall of the Blood Hand Gang.

The South African team acted as the vanguard, while Anton deployed armored vehicles and elite squads, along with our DEA personnel, who stood by on the blockade line.

The three forces completely wiped out this burgeoning gang within a single morning.

His motivation for doing all this was simply to gather evidence for a criminal case he was handling.

Maiswhite paused here:

"He secured a gold mine for me, Elena."

This achievement is enough to get me promoted at least one level within the DEA before I'm transferred to the FDA.

What is this dinner tonight?

Hearing this, Elena got her answer, nodded, picked up the wine glass on the table, and took a sip of mineral water.

Her thoughts then drifted back to the morning when she first met Link:

As he stepped out of the Aston Martin, wearing that neat suit jacket, and stood inside the tense cordon, he calmly shook hands with her brother.

At the time, she felt that the man was nothing special, just that he had a refined Asian appearance that matched her aesthetic.

It wasn't until she followed Miles into the Bloodhands headquarters and saw the walls blackened by tear gas, the iron gates rammed open by armored vehicles, and every firing point precisely marked by drones.

It was at that moment that she truly realized just how cunning that seemingly gentle young lawyer was.

This method, this energy, caused her to lose focus more than once while reviewing the case files.

"You said he's going to file a public prosecution case with you next."

Elena placed the cup back on the table, her voice regaining its usual calm:

"Is it related to the Blood Hand Gang?"

"It's not just the Blood Hands."

Blood Hands is merely a distribution terminal.

The real source is Philadelphia General Hospital.

Miles leaned back in his chair and drew a circle on the table with his index finger:

"Link has a complete chain of evidence, covering everything from falsified drug records within the hospital to the gang's ground distribution network."

He intends to file a countersuit against Philadelphia General Hospital:

The doctor, accused of being a serial killer, was transformed from a defendant into a plaintiff, countersuing the hospital for malicious accusations and systematic framing.

This is his biggest trump card.

"Then he left the prosecution part to me."

Elena said.

"right."

Miles met her gaze:

"He needs a prosecutor who can handle such a big case."

You need a big case to break out of the lukewarm waters of the minor offenses category.

This is a win-win situation.

Elena did not answer.

She lowered her eyelashes, looking at the clear liquid gently swirling in the wine glass.

Outside the window, the early winter night was gradually falling in Philadelphia.

The corridor echoed with the respectful calls of waiters and the crisp sound of leather shoes on the marble floor.

The door to the private room was pushed open from the outside, and the waiter bowed slightly, gesturing for the guests to come in.

Link walked in first. He was wearing a brand new dark black three-piece suit today, the fabric of which gleamed faintly with a silky sheen under the warm lighting of the private room.

The tie was changed to a more subdued silver-gray, the tie clip was a slender platinum bar, and the cufflinks were understated black agate.

This was a suit he had made when he bought new clothes earlier.

He had already thought about it, as he would be attending such gatherings and banquets frequently in the future, so this was a case of planning ahead.

Kona linked arms with his right arm.

Today she wore a burgundy backless dress with a flowing cut that went down her waistline and flared out slightly at her ankles.

Her long, golden hair was styled into a loose bun, with a few stray strands hanging down beside her ears.

Her posture as she linked arms with Link was so natural, as if they had walked this path countless times before.

Benny followed behind the two, wearing a dark blue single-breasted suit with a neatly tied tie, and carrying his leather briefcase as always.

His expression was much more composed than a few weeks ago, but he still maintained the vigilance characteristic of an assistant lawyer, habitually scanning all entrances and exits with his eyes when entering an unfamiliar environment.

Elena stood up from the sofa, and Miles straightened his suit and took two steps toward the door.

"Attorney Link!"

He extended his hand, his voice filled with undisguised warmth:

"Thank you for coming."

This is my sister, Elena White, Deputy Chief of the Misdemeanor Crimes Unit at the Philadelphia District Attorney's Office.

Link grasped Miles's hand, his gaze naturally shifting to the woman beside him wearing a dark emerald green dress.

"Prosecutor White, I've heard so much about you."

Miles has mentioned you to me a few times, saying that you have achieved the highest conviction rate in the Philadelphia East District Attorney's Office for two consecutive years—in the misdemeanor category.

Maintaining this level of performance given the volume of cases handled by the minor offenses unit is quite remarkable.

"Attorney Link did his homework on my resume."

Elena smiled slightly and took a step forward.

She was already tall and had a stunning figure, and with those dark green stiletto heels, she was almost eye-to-eye with Link.

She stretched out her hand, her fingers long and strong:

"But what Miles didn't tell you was that I voluntarily requested to be transferred to another unit for half of those minor offenses."

I've always felt that in the face of truly major cases, the more mundane training in the minor offenses unit is often more useful.

I agree with that.

Link took her hand.

She gripped the hand harder than most women.

But it's not the kind of deliberate exertion; rather, it's a just-right strength that expresses an attitude.

"This woman seems a bit domineering."

Just as Link was making his own assessment.

"Elena is the pride of our Penn Law School."

Kona's voice came from the side, light and natural in tone. At the same time, she tightened her grip on Link's arm slightly, pulling Link's arm closer to her side.

"She was two years ahead of me. Back then, in the mock trial at the law school, she single-handedly dismantled the entire Harvard team's prosecution's logic chain."

Later, during my first year at the law firm, she happened to be the opposing prosecutor in several cases. Every time we saw her name on the complaint, our team had to hold an extra two-hour preparation meeting.

Elena's gaze fell on the hand that Cona was holding Link's arm. The smile hadn't disappeared, but something else had changed...

Perhaps it was a deeper interest aroused by subtle hostility.

"Oh? A junior?"

"By the way, you're Cona McKellen."

She said her tone changed from gentle to a more formal, social tone:

"Your father is Dylan McKellen."

I met him last year at the Philadelphia legal community's annual dinner; he was very talkative.

I remember he mentioned you that night.

He said your performance in commercial litigation is better than his back then.

"That's too kind of my father."

Kona's response was equally polite and impeccable.

Link stood between the two, faintly smelling two different perfumes mingling in the air.

He maintained a polite smile, but a sense of unease began to creep into his heart.

He glanced down at Kona's tightening fingers on his arm, then at Elena's gaze, which, though still smiling, had switched to scrutinizing mode.

There was something in the air that he wasn't entirely familiar with, but he could definitely recognize—

The rivalry between women.

"Please sit down, please sit down."

Miles broke the silence at the opportune moment, warmly inviting everyone to take their seats.

Link led Conna and Benny to sit down at one side of the round table, with Elena sitting opposite him and Miles next to her.

The waiter pushed the food cart in and placed several appetizers on the table.

The crystal chandelier cast a warm, even glow on the white tablecloth, while the string quartet in the corner played a softer tune, immersing the entire private room in a carefully crafted, comfortable atmosphere.

After several rounds of drinks and as the dishes were almost finished, Miles raised his glass and toasted Link.

"Seriously, Link, you handled that Bloodhand case brilliantly."

Gerard and several of his deputies are now all waiting in line for interrogation in federal detention.

The seized fentanyl and controlled substances were worth more than three million US dollars, and the DEA East Precinct issued me a formal commendation!

My name is on top, and the deputy director's signature is below.

Having worked in this industry for so many years, I know what it means to gain credit for nothing, and who the real people to thank are.

"Mutual benefit, Miles."

Link raised his glass and gently clinked it against his with tea instead of wine:

"Without your external blockade, the operations of An Dun and the South African gang would not have gone so smoothly."

We won this battle together.

Miles laughed, downed his drink in one gulp, and then waved toward the band.

The bandleader bowed slightly, put down his bow, and led the musicians out of the private room quietly.

The heavy oak door was gently closed from the outside, restoring privacy to the private room.

After the private room quieted down, Miles put his glass back on the table, leaned forward slightly, and his smile faded a bit.

"Alright, enough of the small talk, let's get down to business."

Link, what are your plans for the upcoming prosecution case?

Link put down his knife and fork and wiped his mouth with a napkin. He didn't answer immediately, but took a document from Benny, placed it on the table, and opened to the first page.

"The Philadelphia General Hospital drug corruption case."

He pushed the documents to the center of the round table:

"The key defendants include pharmacy director Thomas Sherol, special psychological director Alan Morrison, and logistics director Lydia Wylant."

These are the three confirmed core members. At a higher level, at least one vice president or even a higher-ranking decision-maker is still under investigation.

However, this corruption case is directly linked to the serial murder case against my client, Nathaniel Hawthorne.

Of the four victims, Nick Quix's death has been proven to have been carried out by Gerard, the leader of the Bloodhands gang, while his father, Holland Quix, a low-level mule in the hospital's corrupt network, personally lured his son into the trap.

In other words, the cause of death of one of the four victims has been definitively ruled out as Nathaniel Hawthorne's involvement and points to a corruption network at Philadelphia General Hospital.

I hope that by filing a countersuit, I can also push for the prosecution's motion for acquittal in the Hawthorne case.

We should combine and advance these two tasks.

Elena had been listening quietly the whole time, and then she finally spoke, her voice steady and professional.

"I know about his case; it was a public prosecution. What is the basis of your legal theory?"

"Malicious accusation. Abuse of litigation process. Civil collusion."

On a criminal level, these include fabricating evidence, obstructing justice, and violating the federal anti-extortion and anti-corruption organization law.

Each charge is supported by corresponding evidence!

Steve's internal drug inventory records, a copy of Nathaniel's own whistleblower letter, Holland Quays's confession, and transaction ledgers seized from Gerald's private database after his capture.

Link spread the documents out on the table.

Elena reached out and took the top copy of the drug inventory record, quickly scanned a few lines, and then looked up.

"The legal basis is very solid."

The connections in the chain of evidence...

She paused for a moment, as if automatically verifying the relevance of each piece of evidence in her mind:

"That's also feasible. However, the threshold for public prosecution is different from that for civil counterclaims."

Criminal conviction requires reaching the threshold of reasonable doubt, and I need you to conduct a preliminary review of all key evidence to ensure there is no chain of contamination.

Steve's testimony, taken in isolation, is questionable in its credibility due to his role in the drug deal.

Holland's testimony, if obtained under duress, would be automatically excluded in federal court.

"I can provide you with complete materials for the preliminary review of the evidence."

For both Steve's and Holland's storylines, I have prepared supporting evidence to bolster their credibility:

Steve has the system logs of the drug inventory as objective evidence, while Holland has the Blood Hand Gang's transaction records and the surveillance footage at the prison gate to corroborate his testimony.

As for Holland's testimony, I will let him know that he did not say these things under duress.

Link's voice was flat and even, simply stating his position with great confidence.

Elena looked at him, remained silent for a moment, and then a slight smile curved her lips.

This is the admiration that a prosecutor with extremely high professional competence cannot help but show when he sees an equally formidable opponent.

"You're quite well-prepared."

"My client, Nathaniel Hawthorne, has been unjustly imprisoned for far too long."

Every day he lost cannot be measured in terms of compensation.

Therefore, I will not leave any room for what can be called luck in this case.

"Your client is lucky."

Elena picked up her glass, took a sip, and then put it down.

"I'll take this case."

The banquet gradually came to a close in a harmonious atmosphere.

As the evening drew to a close, Miles, overjoyed with his evening's success, broke his usual rule and drank a few extra glasses. He was already leaning back in his armchair, his tie askew.

Elena remained conscious.

She spent the entire evening discussing case details with Link, from the timeline of the evidence chain to the procedural arrangements for the pre-trial hearing, and hardly touched a drop of alcohol.

Link and Benny didn't touch their glasses either, as they needed to keep their minds clear to record and discuss the details of the case.

The only exception is Kona.

She and Link clinked glasses a few times, but before they knew it, they had finished many bottles of wine.

Everyone got up and left the private room.

Miles mumbled something as he was helped up. Elena sighed, took the bill from the waiter, signed it, and then turned to Link.

"let's go."

After she finished speaking, she nodded to the waiter next to her, took the car keys, and Miles was helped into the elevator. While waving, she called out to Link that she would come back for a drink next time.

Link helped Cona out of the restaurant.

The chilly night wind of early winter swept through the streets. Kona's red wine was clearly taking effect; she leaned against Link, her cheeks flushed, and her breath carried a faint scent of wine.

Benny stood to the side, looking at the matte black Aston Martin parked under the streetlight, and scratched his head somewhat awkwardly.

"Team leader, should I drive this car to take Kona back? Or...?"

"Mr. Benny, could you please do me a favor?"

Elena's voice came from behind them.

She wore a camel-colored coat, held her car keys in her hand, and walked down the steps with a calm gait, her high heels making a crisp sound on the stone steps.

She walked up to Link, her gaze sweeping over his arm as he supported Kona, then looked up into Link's eyes, before glancing sideways at Benny:

"I'd like to discuss a few more details about the case we just talked about."

I would like to ask Mr. Benny to pick up my brother in my brother's car.

Link glanced at it, nodded slightly, and then walked towards Miles's vehicle.

As Miles's vehicle slowly started moving, Link turned to Elena and said:

"Let's go, Madam Prosecutor, let's head to the law firm and discuss this case further."

"Okay, so where's your car?"

"Um?"

Link turned to Elena and asked in confusion:

"Ma'am, didn't you drive here?"

"Of course not, I sent it from Miles."

Link and Elena stood at the restaurant entrance and exchanged a glance.

Then they turned around and looked at the matte black Aston Martin DBS parked on the side of the road.

Link looked at his car.

The front row has two doors.

In the back, there are no doors, only a smooth, sloping roofline.

There are only two seats, and there is no space for a third person to sit down.

Kona, who was leaning against Link, raised her head, her eyes, still hazy with intoxication, also looking at the sports car.

A slow smile curved her lips, a smile that contained both the effects of alcohol and a strange kind of clarity.

"No, you both want me to drive you?"

Link looked at his two-seater Aston Martin, his tone sincere yet puzzled:

"My car only has two seats."