Chapter 121
Before entering the courtroom.
I took the backdated contract that Na Min-young gave me and psychometrically read it.
Earlier that morning, I had already psychometrically scanned a backdated contract sent by an anonymous tipster.
I wondered if a printed copy would work, but there was no problem.
It was the scene where a man, hiding his face with glasses and a mask at Madfeel’s office, fumbled and sent the file.
“It matches the speculation that Sang-il Construction was involved in the writing contract. This is it.”
Earlier, someone unknown had given Na Min-young the backdated contract, which made me suspicious: “Is this a forged contract?”
More than anything, the fact that the person knew Na Min-young was a witness for Im Seung-chan was unsettling.
“I wondered if someone was trying to poison the case to cover it up.”
If I didn’t have psychometric abilities and submitted the backdated contract as evidence in court, only to have it revealed as forged, no matter how much Im Seung-chan’s copyright registration and creative notes existed, the credibility of the evidence would be shaken.
In that case, the copyright lawsuit would be lost.
I would have ended up tangled in charges of forgery, use of a forged document, perjury, and fraud.
Anyway.
“Thanks to psychometry, I knew it wasn’t forged, so I could breathe a sigh of relief.”
Thump. Thump.
“The trial will now resume. Everyone in the courtroom, please turn off your smartphones and remain silent during proceedings.”
Shortly after the courtroom officer’s announcement, Judge Myung Jae-wook returned.
Unlike me, Judge Myung, who had likely rested, looked strangely uneasy.
“Did he hear about the Sang-il Construction raid?”
Otherwise, someone who plays king in court wouldn’t fidget so nervously.
Frowning deeply, he annoyed the officers and clerks, scolded the hesitant audience, and hurried the proceedings.
“Since we’ve recessed, let’s proceed quickly. Lee Je-min, please take the witness oath.”
His tone had changed.
Anxious, even agitated, as if he needed to rush the trial just to go play night golf.
“If there’s a reason for his hurry, maybe there are traces of bribes from Sang-il Construction? Seems likely.”
If the trial had been halted when Im Seung-chan collapsed, the traces would have been erased. But since the trial was ongoing, they couldn’t, leaving them trapped.
Still, it was a positive signal for us.
“To avoid disciplinary action, he won’t issue a ruling that shows Sang-il Construction bribed him. The prosecution will figure out who Sang-il lobbied anyway.”
Once an investigation begins, the “king” role would end.
While observing Myung Jae-wook, Madfeel CEO Lee Je-min completed the witness oath.
“Plaintiff’s attorney, you may examine the witness, Lee Je-min.”
“Yes.”
“He’s giving me a look that says, ‘Stick to the points only.’ Well, that’s my specialty.”
I looked at Lee Je-min.
A few days ago, he had looked confident, ready to follow his own side’s requests. Now, he looked resigned, glasses sliding down his nose without effort to adjust, yet holding a glimmer of hope in his eyes.
That duality would soon shatter.
“Mr. Lee Je-min, you’re the CEO of Madfeel, correct?”
“That’s right.”
“How long have you been in the film industry?”
“About 25 years.”
“Then you should be familiar with the requirements for joint authorship.”
“To some extent, yes.”
He avoided eye contact.
“Please explain as you know.”
“To be joint, the work must be created together, and contributions cannot be separated.”
“You mean providing ideas or proofreading advice doesn’t count as creative contribution, right?”
“…Correct.”
“Then, according to these requirements, which parts did Choi Gun-ha create?”
He refused to answer.
“Was it really created jointly?”
“…….”
Again.
“Let me ask again. Madfeel signed Choi Gun-ha’s Money War writing contract on December 12, 2020. At that time, plaintiff Im Seung-chan had a writing contract with defendant Choi Gun-ha. Do you still consider it a joint creation?”
“…….”
No response.
“He must know that such answers make the verdict unfavorable. Why is he doing this?”
…Had he given up?
Then it was time.
“Mr. Lee Je-min, was there a specific reason why you had to sign a writing contract with defendant Choi Gun-ha?”
“Excuse me?”
He was so flustered he didn’t even try to hide it.
“If not, then why did you, as Madfeel CEO, enter into a backdated contract with Sang-il Construction, the parent company of Ruin Films? …Could it be for money laundering?”
“……?!”
There was murmuring in the gallery, but Judge Myung couldn’t restrain them.
Suddenly, the defense attorney raised a hand.
“Objection! That question is intended to insult or slander the witness with false information! For the sake of objectivity.”
“Why do you think there is no evidence?”
“…Huh?”
The defense attorney shifted his gaze from Lee Je-min to Judge Myung.
I recited the backdated contract in my hand.
“The special clauses are ridiculous:
-
It must specify that the script is by Choi Gun-ha. If the film credits are solely his, Madfeel will pay 8 billion KRW for the next project. If joint authorship is claimed due to copyright, Choi Gun-ha gets an additional 500 million KRW consolation payment.
-
The film advisory fee goes to Choi Jong-woo of Late Investment Company. The amount varies from 100 million to 1 billion KRW depending on the advisory content.”
Choi Jong-woo was Choi Gun-ha’s father. So the advisory fee would go to the chairman of Sang-il Construction.
I continued reading.
“Profit distribution will be based on adjusted net profits proposed by investors, not actual profits.”
“Even if the film is a hit, investors could manipulate the books to reduce Madfeel’s profits.”
“20% of the marketing budget will be spent through ‘Bloom Agency,’ designated by investors. This item is not disclosed.”
“Bloom Agency is run by Choi Gun-ha’s wife. So there’s potential for kickbacks, embezzlement, and money laundering.”
Casting interference, preferential negotiation on additional investments.
“If the existence or contents of this contract are disclosed externally, the CEO of Madfeel must pay triple the total investment as a penalty.”
A full-on declaration to block exposure and ultimately take over Madfeel.
Judge Myung’s mouth dropped. It was a diabolical contract.
I approached Lee Je-min in the witness seat.
“Now tell us, Mr. Lee Je-min. Why did the CEO of Madfeel sign a contract that was disadvantageous to Madfeel?”
After a long silence, he lowered his head.
“…We were under pressure and had no choice.”
“It’s over.”
“Your Honor, when the plaintiff submitted their work, Madfeel could have recognized the defendant’s copyright infringement, but due to the backdated contract, they ignored the plaintiff’s request for sole credit, risking huge losses.”
It was a clear act of deception.
“Plaintiff’s attorney.”
Judge Myung, who had finally regained his wits, rifled through the documents.
“It seems the backdated contract wasn’t submitted as evidence. Correct?”
“Yes. Early this morning, an anonymous source sent it, hoping to stop further corruption in the film industry. I submitted it as evidence today and will resubmit it with the full evidence list after the trial.”
Submitting evidence on the day itself—there was no way to refuse it.
If I declared myself the “king” of this courtroom, the case connected to Sang-il Construction would be watched not only by the legal and political communities but also by the public.
“Sang-il Construction conveniently collapsed at the right time.”
“Your Honor!”
Choi Gun-ha’s lawyer objected.
“That backdated contract is forged.”
“Hey, are you deaf?”
“Pardon?”
“I clearly said to only answer the questions. Why keep objecting?”
Typical client, typical lawyer. Judge Myung muttered about how unhelpful they were.
“I tried asking the plaintiff something, but they keep making me forget, tsk.”
Judge Myung suddenly seemed to remember. “Ah!”
“Plaintiff, with a copyright registration, why didn’t you request review from the Korea Copyright Commission?”
“We urged the establishment of a Credit Dispute Mediation Committee, but the Ministry of Culture never responded.”
“The reason is, Myung Jae-wook, that you’re exactly right about Sang-il Construction.”
“Ahem. After the final arguments, I will issue an immediate ruling.”
“So it goes to immediate judgment.”
In civil trials, immediate rulings are possible in some exceptional cases:
-
Small claims under 30 million KRW.
-
Defendant fails to respond within 30 days after service, or admits all claims with no defenses.
The court can rule without further deliberation.
In this case, it’s unusual but permissible if the matter is simple and clear with no need for additional review.
“Judge Myung judged no further review was needed, hence the immediate ruling. Right?”
Looking alarmed, Judge Myung opened the mic.
“Plaintiff, final argument.”
“Yes.”
I revised the memorized closing statement, adding a personal comment rarely used in court.
“The backdated contract between Madfeel and Sang-il Construction, the parent company of Ruin Films, must be eradicated from the film industry as a corrupt practice.”
It subtly warned Judge Myung not to do anything dirty in the ruling.
“…Defense, final argument.”
“Yes.”
“I will do it myself.”
Instead of the attorney, Madfeel CEO Lee Je-min took the mic.
“What’s this?”
“Honorable Judge, I have a request.”
“……?”
“Whether you call it Money War or Jack in the Money Box, it doesn’t matter who is credited as the sole or joint writer. However,”
Lee Je-min moved his lips slightly. I immediately understood his concern.
The backdated contract? He could handle that. But the work itself? Not so much.
“This matter may stigmatize the director as a plagiarist, negatively affecting the film. I sincerely ask you to consider the staff who worked hard to make this movie.”
In the past, such a case would go straight to VOD because cinemas wouldn’t screen it.
But now, with OTT platforms, the impact on theatrical release is reduced.
“Madfeel and Kuing Play have a strategic content supply and partnership, so financially, there’s a safety net.”
Of course, if the film does well, OTT revenue cannot compare.
“If losses are huge, Madfeel, covered in trouble, will likely claim damages from Choi Gun-ha.”
Unlikely according to the backdated contract.
After the final arguments, Judge Myung took a moment and delivered the first-instance judgment.
The verdict?
Who am I? Of course, I won.
