Pro Bono: Episodes 11-12 (Final)
by solstices
Full of heart and hope to the very end, Pro Bono wraps up its plot threads in a satisfying finale that delivers justice and remains true to all its characters. It’s a culmination of everything they’ve learnt and worked for, and a reaffirmation of the ideals that keep them going strong against the currents of corruption.
EPISODES 11-12 (FINAL)
Unwilling to take David’s admission of guilt at face value, Gi-ppeum insists on questioning him every step of the way. Intention doesn’t equate to actual action, she argues. To that, David admits that he doesn’t know for sure whether his vengeance influenced the trial. What he can say, though, is who stopped him in his tracks — the anguished entreaties from CEO Yoo’s wife had made David realize that he’s become the one who wields power, and he must be careful to not become like the very ones he despises.
On that note, I love how consistently in-character the team’s reactions to this situation are, and it really speaks to the strength of the writing. Joon-woo had admired and trusted David deeply, following in his footsteps even when the others doubted him, which in turn caused the betrayal to cut deeper. Nan-hee has always been fuelled by her emotions above all else, which naturally gives rise to empathy for David. Young-shil, ever the gentle peacemaker, provides a voice of reason to mediate any brewing conflict. And Gi-ppeum, idealistic and diligent, forges a path ahead to uncover the truth.
To that end, the pro bono team meets the mother of the high school victim. It turns out the cup ramyun photo had been genuine; it’d simply been ignored by the police and the prosecution. Fuelled by a rekindled faith in David, the team retraces his line of questioning during the past trial. In court, Gi-ppeum puts the pressure on the factory manager. The statute of limitations has expired, but he can be held liable for perjury — does he really want to keep up the lie?
With that, the manager cracks. The exploitative CEO Yoo had ordered the side door to be locked, so that no thievery could happen. And that’s how the only viable escape route for the high school student had been sealed off. It’s exactly what David had been trying to prove with his targeted interrogations as a judge, and now Gi-ppeum has finally succeeded where he’d failed before.
In his closing statement, David candidly speaks about his conscience as a judge versus his vengeance against CEO Yoo. To this day, he can’t say for sure which had been at the forefront during the trial, and so he asks the court to decide. Perhaps in his own way, David wanted the pro bono team — his closest allies — to judge him fairly, as well. In the end, the prosecution drops the charges since it’s shaping up to be a losing battle for them. And aww, it turns out our double agent Joon-woo listened to his conscience and fed false information to the incumbent CEO of Oh & Partners. Our Bono Bono team stays strong!
Alas, that also means the childish CEO fires the entire team, forcing them to move into a temporary office. Worse yet, Myung-hoon sues David for damages on behalf of the incorrigible CEO Jang. Why does Myung-hoon hold such a grudge against David, you may ask? It all started in their judicial trainee days, when Myung-hoon carried a torch for Jung-in, but she beelined straight for David… Pfffft. That’s so petty and entirely in line with Myung-hoon’s character.
In any case, the trial against CEO Jang begins, and I love that David checks in with Young-shil before proceeding. With that, Young-shil bravely steps forward to cross-examine his abusive father. Then, tamping down his bone-deep fear and trauma response — in a raw and deeply moving portrayal by Yoon Na-moo — Young-shil reveals a recording of CEO Jang brutally beating his secretaries. I’m so proud of Young-shil!
Knowing that there are far too many cronies in cahoots, David submits a recording — courtesy of Jung-in — of an incriminating conversation between Chief Judge Shin and Director Oh. Then he uses that as a pretext to boldly summon them both to court. Ha, never change, David.
When our terrible trio pull strings to get the case reassigned to their buddy JUDGE KIM (Park Sung-geun), David requests one week to bring the three to court. To Chief Judge Shin and CEO Jang, David sends AI deepfake videos of them secretly selling each other out, creating a prisoner’s dilemma to exploit their distrust. Okay, I’m as anti-GenAI as they come, but even I have to admit this was funny. The scheme works, and CEO Jang caves in court, exposing Chief Judge Shin for offering a deal first.
As for Director Oh, he dangles the carrot of Chief Judge Shin’s position — if David fills the vacated spot, he can finally achieve his dream of becoming a Chief Justice. David seemingly accepts, requesting that Director Oh attend the trial in exchange. Then David plays the recording of Director Oh’s bribe offer for the entire courtroom to hear. On top of that, Director Oh had colluded with CEO Jang not for public interest like he claimed, but to line his pockets with exorbitant revenue. Needless to say, the reporters have a field day.
In a flashback, we see that David had set his mother’s ring down at her altar, reflecting upon his journey. Along the way, he’d lost sight of the real reasons he’d wanted to become a Chief Justice. And now, he’s finally setting things right. Victory secured, our pro bono team — David included — shares a triumphant moment with their signature pose.
With that, our lovable team moves back into their old office, mushrooms and all. It’s a pity that Director Oh manages to weasel out of imprisonment, but at least he’s kicked out of his seat. When Jung-in asks her father why he hadn’t suspected David’s betrayal, Director Oh replies that not a single person had rejected his deals up till that point.
As for David, he finally gets the sunlight-filled personal office he’s always wanted. That also comes with a spot in Oh & Partners’ new management group… which of course includes Myung-hoon. Jung-in leads a case discussion regarding “eco-friendly” toxic diapers, formulating a plan to cover up the devastating harm and — the exact antithesis to everything David’s been fighting for thus far. It reiterates just how calculating and manipulative Jung-in is, especially since David’s realized that she orchestrated his downfall and used him as a tool to oust her father. It’s exactly as Director Oh told Jung-in — she’s just like him.
Contrast that with the surprise birthday party that the team and Gi-ppeum’s parents throw for David — despite David’s blunt interjection that it’s not actually his birthday, ha — and it’s clear where our hero truly belongs. Gi-ppeum’s parents wanted to personally thank him for saving their family, and I love the pointed look Gi-ppeum gives David when she has to interpret his self-deprecation for her parents, ha. So relatable! In response, Gi-ppeum’s mother reminds our judge-turned-attorney to remember the meaning of his name — he’s just like the biblical David, who fought valiantly against the mighty Goliath on behalf of the weak.
It resonates deeply with David, and when Myung-hoon elaborates upon his ~manipulation via settlements~ divide and conquer plan, David pastes photos of the injured babies up to remind everyone just how much humanity they’re forsaking in the name of profit. Then he walks straight out with his head held high. Back in the cozy pro bono office, David surprises his team with new name cards for his independent law firm — “Eye for an Eye,” what a David-esque name, ha. They’ll defend those who are made to always lose against the corruption of the bigwigs, and they’ll sustain themselves on contingency fees by amassing large collectives of oppressed clients. In fact, they’re going to do so well and construct a company building so tall that it blocks all the sunlight and allows mushrooms to grow in Oh & Partners! (Cue a delighted grin from Young-shil, hee.)
As our team walks through the courtroom doors to represent their next client, David’s narration reveals his growth. No longer is he talking about winning at all costs. “Even if we lose, at least we’ll lose together.”
Aww, I love how far our hero has come since we first met him. David has been a morally gray character from the outset, shaped by external pressure and survival instincts, but underneath the curated facade was always a suppressed conscience and an innate yearning to do better. That’s why this conclusion was such an effective one, because it brought his internal conflict to the forefront and tested his resolve. When offered the temptation of his longtime wish, would David cave? It’s a testament to all that he’s grown that he can step away from the conventional barometers of success in order to stay true to his heart. Similarly, I really appreciated Gi-ppeum’s arc from having her idealism put to the test, to strengthening her resolve to believe in those who deserve it. Even if the ruthless practicality of society may crowd out good faith, there’s still value in trusting others and striving to uphold one’s ideals. (On a personal note, Gi-ppeum is my favorite character by far because of how relatable the detailed portrayal of her CODA experience was, but I digress.)
I think my favorite part of these episodes was the spotlight on the internal moral dilemmas — David questioning whether his judgments were tainted by vengeance, and Young-shil being afraid that his altruism was powered not by genuine kindness but by petty revenge against his abusive father. Thankfully they both have solid teammates — and friends, really — to back them up. Regardless of their initial intentions, their consistent actions are a true reflection of their character. In a way, the same can be said for Joon-woo, who’s matured enough to reject David’s offer of a position higher up the corporate ladder. Anyone can grow misguided under the right (or wrong) circumstances, but it’s what one ultimately chooses to do that speaks to what kind of person one really is.
From the very beginning right up to its final curtain call, Pro Bono brought pertinent societal issues to the forefront in a carefully crafted manner that was equal parts sensitive and entertaining. It’s not an easy balance to strike, but the drama pulled it off by interspersing its heavy subject matter with breathing room in the form of quieter introspective moments, while unraveling its story with levity and cheeky humor. It never shied away from controversial topics, nor did it claim to have all the answers — at the end of the day, it wanted to offer food for thought, and spark discussion that will slowly but surely push society to progress towards inclusivity and empathy. And it did all that through a tight script and endearing characters.
Not only were our Bono Bonos perfectly cast, but the script also gave each member a turn in the spotlight, fleshing out their character arcs in tandem with the weekly cases. In particular, I like how each character’s trajectory was undergirded by their innate traits and outlook on life, keeping their motivations consistent and compelling. The same goes for our antagonists, too. Jung-in and Myung-hoon (and Director Oh, even) were humanized, but without the need for a redemption arc — they haven’t earned it, and for the purposes of the overarching story, they don’t have to. Instead, they serve as flawed and realistic foils, further highlighting the active steps our heroes have taken to better themselves. The year may have only just started, but I can confidently say that Pro Bono is definitely making it onto my list of favorites — perhaps even at the very top.
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