I Became the Youngest Daughter of a Chaebol Family

The reason George Bush made remarks praising Koreans to the point people wondered if he might award them a medal was simple.

He liked Korea, and politically, he judged that it was better to support them at that moment.

Of course, he wouldn’t have been moved by goodwill alone. George Bush was a man who knew how to separate public and private matters. Though he never forgave Japan for nearly killing him during the Pacific War, he still maintained smooth diplomatic relations with them—he was that rational.

[There are claims that President Bush’s sudden change in stance was due to lobbying from the NRA. What are your thoughts on this?]

[...Hmm, well. What’s certain is that they are all Americans, and they faithfully upheld the U.S. Constitution.]

Click.

I turned off the television and smiled softly.

“There. You saw that, right?”

“...Ha. Indeed. That’s how it is.”

Lee Si-hyun now understood that this matter was no longer in our hands. Since it was tied to American politics, the issues concerning the Korean-American community would be handled by the politicians from here on.

“You know that story. About how there are two wolves in a person’s heart, a good one and a bad one, and the one you feed more wins.”

“You must’ve fed the Republican Party quite a bit, huh?”

“I didn’t give them money, strictly speaking. But from the President’s point of view—wanting to wrap this situation up successfully—elevating a politically insignificant Korean-American community to cover minor problems is quite an attractive option.”

The storytelling was also well-constructed. Retired soldiers from a country where most men undergo military service and are proficient with firearms, who had even participated in war, now picked up guns once more during a law enforcement vacuum to protect their families and neighbors...!

It sounded like a story straight out of Hollywood. So why not use it to the fullest?

In the meantime, I had more or less resolved ❀ ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) the minor frictions within the Korean-American community. The thugs were completely dealt with by Si-hyun and her Russian bodyguards (pretty ones).

“Ugh..., what even is going on anymore? Hey, Yoo Ha-yeon. You got anything else to do?”

“Not really. Go bring some popcorn. Ah, Ba-da, you come over too.”

“...”

Pat pat.

“There, good girl. Good girl.”

Hehe.

***

When I returned to the law firm, I was greeted by the representative with a beaming smile.

“Hahaha! You really are something else. For the President himself to step in... thanks to you, a tremendous amount of work has been lifted off our shoulders.”

“It’s all thanks to Miss Ba-da. Her family does have some personal ties with President Bush. And you did a great job as well, sir. Convincing the NRA couldn’t have been easy.”

Honestly, I hadn’t known it would tie back to Mirae Group. I only realized when Ba-da trembled while telling me the story.

—“Can’t believe that bastard was ever actually useful for something...”

I smiled faintly as I recalled Ba-da’s voice, laced with anger and self-loathing, when she spoke of Mirae Group’s current chairman.

It had been an unexpected win.

“That’s true. And it was fortunate that the judge newly assigned to this case leans Republican.”

The U.S. had been under Republican control for over a decade, and thanks to that, even in California, a conservative-leaning judge could be appointed.

Lucky for me. I was able to use the judicial disqualification procedure I mentioned before.

“So... when do you think the case will be resolved?”

At my question, he rubbed his chin in thought before answering.

“Give it a month? It won’t take years, at least. The whole country is watching this trial.”

Just as he said, the result of the class action lawsuit came out in June.

It hadn’t been a waste of time. I’d used the opportunity to wander through Hollywood and thoroughly investigate the acquisition of UA.

‘Good thing I already knew which movies would be hits.’

The films bound to succeed were bought dirt-cheap, and those likely to flop—I shut them down outright under my authority. Soon, the UA I acquired would rise as a thriving studio, unlike MGM.

Just like UA before Heaven’s Gate ruined it.

And so, at the beginning of June, under the scorching sun—

[...The State of California orders the defendant to pay $530 million in damages to the plaintiffs.]

Bang. Bang. Bang.

With the judge’s gavel slamming down, the curtain finally fell on the aftermath of the LA Riots.

.

.

.

After the class action ended, we received a massive compensation payout.

John Quinn, who pocketed millions in legal fees, saw us off with a bright smile. He had worked hard, but since everything had gone better than expected, he was in high spirits.

I smiled faintly and shook his hand. Over the past month, I’d made frequent excuses to show my face, and thanks to that, his momentary doubts about my age had settled. He now regarded me as an adult with just a youthful appearance.

Because my knowledge was far too specialized.

“I hope we get to meet again.”

“...Yes. Hopefully under good circumstances.”

“...Under good circumstances. Yes, understood.”

Thankfully, it looked like I could keep that promise. Exposing fraud counts as a good thing, doesn’t it?

Still, for someone who had met lawyers as a defendant more than once, it was a slightly chilling thought.

Ugh... That brought up some bad memories. I needed to hug my comfort plushie and heal.

***

Now that this act had ended, let’s briefly touch on one more difference between civil law and common law systems...

In common law, there are no sentencing limits, and prison terms are cumulative for each crime. That’s why you see sentences like 200 or 300 years in the U.S., instead of just life imprisonment.

For reference, Madoff was sentenced to 150 years in prison.

But Miss Yoo Ha-yeon, born in the Republic of Korea—a nation under the civil law system and a champion of justice—had no intention of letting that slide.

‘Honestly, 150 years is too much. Forty years would be more appropriate.’

Whether it was empathy for a fellow sufferer or simply respect for a senior, I felt a slight sense of injustice and planned to report my senior in advance and have him locked up.

The sooner you go in, the sooner you come out. Mm-hmm, exactly.

Of course, even if it’s 40 years, staying imprisoned until death won’t change. It’s 1992 now, and he dies around 2020.

Since I plan to step into the healthcare sector, lifespans might be extended somewhat...

Mmm, even so, I don’t think reversing aging will be completed by 2020, let alone 2050. I’m not that much of a genius.

Unless I had full knowledge of cutting-edge genetic engineering from my past life, which I don’t—my specialty was finance.

“Miss, we’ve arrived.”

Lost in that idle thought, I’d been staring absentmindedly at the sky from the car, and returned to reality at the driver’s words.

“Ah, okay. I’m getting out.”

Stretching my bare white legs out of the car, I admired my own beauty once, then stepped out with a satisfied mood.

.

.

.

Inside the now slightly more luxurious and familiar law firm.

“We meet again.”

“...”

Mr. Quinn looked at me with a curious expression. I flashed a bright smile and offered my hand again.

“This time too, it’s for something good.”

I whispered, and only then did he snap back to himself, nodding and shaking my hand.

“Ah, yes. Nice to see you. I’m John Quinn, managing partner at Quinn Emanuel.”

“Yes, nice to meet you.”

While exchanging light conversation, I noticed there were quite a few more attorneys around, and with a playful smile, I leaned in and whispered:

“The fund manager has a discreet request.”

“...A secret?”

Sensing something unusual, he quickly dismissed the others and brought me to a VIP room.

“Ahem, so what’s this about? Just to be clear, attorneys are obligated to protect client confidentiality, so feel free to speak freely.”

Even if a client confesses to murder, a lawyer must not leak or report it.

But since this involved a very large amount of money, I had to be cautious... I’d gone through this elaborate method to earn his trust and make him owe me.

“Phew, well... please don’t be too shocked.”

Rustle.

I pulled out the documents I’d prepared from my bag and carefully laid them out. A luxurious letter sealed in wax, and papers stamped with the ominous seal of the SEC—his face stiffened the moment he saw them.

“Mr. Quinn. You’ve handled white-collar crime before, haven’t you?”

“Yes. Actually, that’s my main area.”

For this moment, Daehwa Securities had invested a small amount in Madoff’s fund. You have to be listed as a victim to speak up effectively, after all.

“Combining my compensation and other sources... we put about 30 million dollars into the Madoff fund through the brokerage. I mentioned that fund to you before, remember?”

“...!”

Calmly dropping a massive figure, I overwhelmed him. Then, dabbing sweat off my forehead (I’d done a bit of running), I continued speaking quietly.

“But... something’s off about that fund.”

“What... do you mean?”

He seemed to already anticipate what I’d say. I’d made it obvious that I worked in finance.

So what I said wasn’t taken as the naïve babbling of some clueless girl, but as the informed opinion of a professional investor...

“It doesn’t invest in anything. No solid opportunities, no promising assets. Not for the past few years at least.”

The moment I said that, the managing partner of Quinn Emanuel was struck by a thunderous realization.

Wall Street’s most respected investor, former chairman and outside director of NASDAQ, prominent figure in the Jewish-American community...

Bernard Madoff’s fund is a Ponzi scheme.