Tokyo's Top Lawyer: Starting with a Bankrupt Law Firm

Tokyo, Shinjuku, Eito Law Firm. The glaring sunlight poured through the gaps in the curtains, illuminating the scattered files and documents on the floor, creating a chaotic scene. The fan made a "whoosh, whoosh" sound, blowing A4 sheets of paper, breaking the office’s silence. The entire law firm was enveloped in darkness, with the only source of light coming from the faint glow of a computer screen. In a glass-walled office at the far end of the firm, Yoshikazu Kitahara sat in his office chair, gently sliding the mouse. The computer screen displayed a financial statement. A red circle highlighted a deficit of 532,200,000 yen. He double-checked the number and sighed deeply. "Is this my new start?" Kitahara had once been a world-renowned lawyer, winning countless high-profile cases and earning the nickname "Devil Lawyer" among his peers. He was famous not only for his outstanding legal skills but also for his strategic use of gray methods and exploiting human weaknesses. Throughout his career, the media and society labeled him with terms like "Wealth Above All," "Defending the Rich," and "Stirring Conflict." Despite the immense fame and wealth, he had also carried the burden of misunderstanding and criticism. Now, Kitahara was a partner at a small law firm in Tokyo. He had just graduated from the University of Tokyo's law school, full of ideals about "legal justice." Once a typical idealist, he had fervently believed in changing the world through law. Although he had always viewed such people as naïve and simplistic, now, he had no choice but to continue in this role. Two weeks ago, the firm's head, Eito, transferred his partnership shares to Kitahara. At the time, Kitahara naively believed this was an opportunity, a stage to fight for "justice." However, that ideal was soon shattered—Eito had lost a debt document worth approximately 500 million yen during his practice, plunging the firm into a massive debt crisis, and Eito had vanished without a trace. As a partner, Kitahara was now responsible for the 500 million yen debt. This meant that if the firm could not repay the debt, Kitahara would have to use his own assets to cover it. It was a nearly irreversible situation—and this was his first challenge. Kitahara had once been called a "legal rogue," using his mastery of the gray areas of law and exploiting human weaknesses to win case after case. But now, he was facing an undeniable financial crisis—and this was the moment to reveal his "rogue" nature. He turned and looked at a courier envelope from Yamato Transport on his desk, the cover marked with a black cat symbol. The envelope had been opened, and beside it was a judicial document from the Shinjuku District Court in Tokyo, clearly stating a property freezing order. Kitahara’s gaze was sharp. Through the document, he easily spotted a legal loophole, which could become his breakthrough for counterattack. Like a lurking tiger, his eyes exuded an undeniable sharpness and resolve. He quietly slid his finger across the desk, a faint smile curling at the corner of his lips, relishing this moment of calm and the anticipation of future challenges. Just as he was about to step out of the office to get some fresh air, his gaze unintentionally drifted to the window. The sound of leather shoes clicking against the street broke the surrounding noise. Kitahara saw a group of men in suits walking toward the law firm, with a familiar figure leading them—Kagekazu Kobayakawa, the second-ranked student at the University of Tokyo Law School, a former classmate, and his fiercest rival during law school. "It seems it’s time to meet this 'old classmate,'" Kitahara said with a knowing smile, preparing to face this inevitable showdown. This "warm-up match" would be the first battle in his future plans. Eight men in black suits, each wearing the emblem of the Eight Mirrors on their collars, marched with an imposing presence up to the second floor, stopping in front of the Eito Law Firm. The Eight Mirrors emblem is a distinctive badge worn by personnel from the Eastern Judicature. The Eight Mirrors is one of the three sacred artifacts in ancient Eastern legends. It is said that under the light of this mirror, all demons and evil spirits would reveal their true forms. The man at the head of the group pressed the doorbell at the entrance. However, no sound followed. He stood there for a moment, glanced inside the darkened office, and then turned to a slightly plump man with thick eyebrows, respectfully saying, "Judge Kobayakawa, it seems no one's here at Eito Law Firm. Should we just seal the place off?" Kobayakawa sneered and waved his hand. "No! My old classmate is definitely here." The image of the slightly naive yet stubborn figure of a man filled his mind. That figure, the guy named Kitahara, had stolen the spotlight from him for four long years at university. No matter how hard he tried to compete, he always came out just short. Whether it was in academics or even in love! The goddess of the medical faculty, who had once rejected Kobayakawa's confession and chosen to be with Kitahara instead. Of course, although they broke up because of long-distance dating, whenever he thought of it, Kobayakawa couldn't help but grind his teeth in frustration. Why did all the good things go to Kitahara? He came from a better family, his knowledge matched Kitahara's, and he believed the true winner of university life should have been him! But the river doesn’t rush ahead; it only flows continuously. When Kobayakawa heard about Kitahara's troubles at the Eito Law Firm, he felt an immense sense of relief. He had racked up a debt of five billion yen. Kitahara was finished. A lifetime of misery awaited him, reduced to a penniless wretch begging in the streets. Kobayakawa’s smile widened as he straightened his back, adjusted his tie, and pushed open the glass door of Eito Law Firm, stepping inside. There was a faint "hiss," like a weak electric current. Then, the button clicked, and the lights suddenly flickered on, dispelling the darkness in the office. Kitahara, who had come to the front desk, had pressed the light switch. He had overheard the conversation between Kobayakawa and his companions and had decided to "greet" them personally. Although Kitahara's soul had just been reborn, the original body had suffered days of emotional turmoil, sleepless nights, and was now somewhat haggard, with bloodshot eyes, stubble, and a loosened tie. The lights illuminated the room, and as Kobayakawa saw Kitahara standing at the front desk, his jaw muscles twitched. A mocking smile involuntarily appeared on his face. Kitahara looked like a true beggar, exactly as he had imagined. "Kitahara-kun," Kobayakawa said with a fake friendly tone, walking up to him and extending his hand. He gripped Kitahara's hand firmly, saying, "It’s been a long time since graduation. How have you been?" It seemed like a gesture of friendship, but in reality, it was meant to mock and wound Kitahara. "Thanks to you, Judge Kobayakawa, I’m getting by," Kitahara replied, shaking Kobayakawa’s hand. He wore a polite smile, noting that Kobayakawa’s handshake was weak. If he intended to mock him, he was still too inexperienced. As Kitahara smiled, he subtly applied more pressure to the handshake. Perhaps feeling the pain in his hand, Kobayakawa's smile faltered slightly, and he quickly pulled his hand away. Kobayakawa’s smile still carried the same familiar mockery, and Kitahara couldn't help but coldly chuckle inside. He was all too familiar with this type of person—smiling at you while stabbing you in the back. Kobayakawa maintained his smile but secretly sneered. "I’ve heard about your situation. I even mentioned it in our Line group with the classmates to see if we could help you out." "Kitahara-kun, you know how it is. It’s normal not to know how to handle such a thing. But don’t worry, all of us from the second class of the law faculty at Todai will stand by you." Kobayakawa kept speaking, his words oozing with thinly veiled mockery. Though he claimed to be trying to help, he was likely eager to spread Kitahara’s misfortune, making sure more people would laugh at him. Kitahara maintained his smile, holding a cup of water. With his other hand, he casually turned on the water cooler, saying, "Judge Kobayakawa, shall we stand here and talk? We have water, tea, and cola. Why don’t we sit over there on the sofa to discuss things?" Kobayakawa nodded, following Kitahara towards the office’s seating area. But as they walked a few steps, Kobayakawa suddenly felt something was off. Did Kitahara just say "talk"? What was there to discuss? Didn’t he realize their positions were not equal anymore? "Talk" was a term for conversations between equals. Kobayakawa was here to freeze the assets of the law firm, to deliver a final judgment on Kitahara's financial demise. What could Kitahara possibly have to discuss with him? Kobayakawa watched Kitahara’s back, feeling a strange discomfort. The once naive and immature figure seemed to have gained a newfound strength and depth. Shaking his head, he dismissed the thought. Kitahara could never turn things around. Kobayakawa's brow relaxed, and he grinned again. Kitahara, holding a paper cup, walked to the corner of the office where a small round table and two sofas were arranged. He placed the cup of green tea on the table, casually sitting on one of the sofas. Kobayakawa, showing no signs of politeness, grabbed the cup of green tea, took a sip, and said, "Kitahara-kun, you understand. This asset freeze order was delivered two weeks ago, but I personally dragged the court people to delay the arrival at the firm. I’ve really worked hard on this for you." Kobayakawa leaned forward slightly, putting on a fake concerned expression. Kitahara couldn’t help but snort inwardly. The asset freeze order had been sent via courier, not by regular mail, obviously to speed up the delivery. The idea that Kobayakawa had "dragged the court" was entirely meaningless. This order took effect the moment it was delivered, regardless of when the court staff arrived. But Kitahara decided to let him continue his performance. He kept his smile intact. Kobayakawa looked around at the desolate office, saying, "Kitahara-kun, my parents also have some influence in the legal field. Everyone’s been worried about your situation. There’s a legal consulting position in Kagoshima I can arrange for you. Times have changed, and even people in the countryside need legal help." Kobayakawa’s eyes gleamed as he excitedly spoke about this position, imagining the thrill of sending his former rival to a remote island, where he would live out his life burdened by five billion yen in debt. Kobayakawa kept chattering, making the office his stage. Kitahara, shaking his cup of water, couldn’t help but chuckle. The sound was indeed grating. It was becoming unbearable. "There’s a problem with this asset freeze order," Kitahara said softly, deciding it was time to interrupt the delusional performance in front of him.