8
ch 8### Classical Literature and Cyberpunk
People often think that arts high schools only teach practical classes.
But in reality, they study Korean, English, Math, Social Studies, and Science just like any other school.
The only difference is that once the afternoon arrives, practical classes begin instead of regular academic subjects.
“Yaaawn.”
As soon as class ended, I let out a long yawn.
I grabbed a snack from the school store for the first time in a while, and it was surprisingly good.
After stuffing myself until I was practically bursting, it was no wonder I got sleepy during class.
The other students around me looked at me as if they were thinking, What's wrong with this guy?
Maybe because Goyeong Arts High School was such a prestigious school, not a single student slept during class.
Apparently, grades also mattered for college admissions, so everyone studied seriously.
Which only made someone like me, sprawled out half-asleep, even harder to understand.
'What's the point of studying that hard? Life is meant to be enjoyed. The weather's this nice, after all.'
I couldn't help but pity the other students.
Though, I wasn't exactly in a position to talk.
Come to think of it, despite regressing countless times, I'd never really enjoyed school life.
Every one of my regressions, every one of my lives, had been a nonstop sprint toward the Nobel Prize in Literature.
'This time, I'll actually enjoy my school days.'
One of the reasons I transferred to Goyeong Arts High School was because I'd always romanticized attending an arts
school.
I'd already experienced ordinary high school life plenty of times.
I wanted to see if this place would feel different.
“...Jeong Yoonseong?”
Just then, a voice came from the seat beside me.
Lee Jueun was looking at me.
Perhaps because we were both transfer students, our homeroom teacher had assigned us to sit next to each other.
“You called my name?”
When I asked, Lee Jueun flinched instead.
It seemed she'd called my name without realizing it.
“Ahem. It's just... you've been sleeping through every class.”
“Yaaawn. I was sleepy.”
“Are you the type who sleeps a lot?”
“Not really.”
“Then why do you keep dozing off?”
“I woke up pretty early today.”
To be honest, since it was my first day after transferring, I'd tried my best not to fall asleep.
But how was I supposed to stay focused when they kept explaining things I already knew?
One good thing was that none of the teachers bothered waking me up or scolding me.
Well, a school like Goyeong Arts High probably had no interest in dragging along students who couldn't keep up.
“You kept sleeping during the transfer exam too, didn't you?”
“Yeah.”
“Then how did you pass?”
“Because I wrote well?”
“...In one minute? After seeing that prompt?”
“The important thing about writing isn't how long it takes. It's how well you write.”
Lee Jueun simply stared at me, seemingly at a loss for words.
I shrugged.
“You heard them earlier, didn't you? They said I'm good.”
She looked like she wanted to say something else.
“You're Lee Jueun, right?”
“I've heard so much about you even before you transferred!”
Before I knew it, other students had gathered around Lee Jueun.
Well, that was only natural.
A transfer student from an incredibly influential family in the entertainment industry was bound to attract attention.
Her father was one of Chungmuro's greatest film directors, and her mother was an actress renowned for her acting
ability.
“I absolutely love your dad's movies. He's such an amazing screenwriter too.”
“Did you learn writing from your father?”
“Do you think... maybe someday... your mom could give me an autograph? I'm a huge fan.”
First meetings were always awkward.
And the best way to break that awkwardness was to have something to talk about.
For Lee Jueun, the perfect conversation topics were Director Lee Seokhyo and actress Cha Miju.
“Ah... y-yeah.”
But...
Lee Jueun didn't seem used to conversations like that.
To be more precise, she looked visibly uncomfortable.
'Well, it happens all the time.'
People always say there's nothing more reassuring than having famous parents.
Their reputation alone opens countless doors.
She'd probably grown up without lacking anything and received endless support in whatever she wanted to do.
'But that can also become a burden.'
Thinking that children with famous parents are automatically happy is far too simplistic.
Sometimes their parents' brilliance casts such a large shadow that the child disappears beneath it.
Many lose their way from an early age or grow up carrying deep emotional scars.
'Out of all the lives I've lived, not once did Lee Jueun become as successful as her parents.'
Maybe she never managed to overcome that pressure.
Well, it wasn't any of my business.
“Yaaawn.”
I checked the time again.
There was still some break left.
Maybe I'd just sleep a little more.
Unlike the wildly popular Lee Jueun, no one was standing around me.
'Well, I'm not some celebrity like Lee Jueun.'
Judging by the students constantly stealing glances at me, they weren't completely uninterested.
But since I'd spent the entire day sleeping...
Maybe they'd already branded me as some lunatic.
Their eyes were filled with caution.
Just then—
“Ahem. H-hello?”
A completely unfamiliar voice called out to me.
“Um... you're Jeong Yoonseong, right?”
I turned around.
A male student with a small build and large round glasses was looking at me.
At first glance, he reminded me of a squirrel.
“...That's right.”
“I-I'm Kim Hyunjun.”
He spoke carefully, though I could tell he was forcing himself to be brave.
I sat up and met his eyes.
“Thanks for talking to me first.”
“N-no need to thank me.”
Kim Hyunjun smiled shyly.
“You transferred in through the entrance exam, right? Do you remember the writing prompt?”
“Blue Marble.”
“Seriously? That's amazing. If I'd gotten that prompt, I think I would've completely panicked and failed to write
anything.”
After living through countless years, I'd become pretty good at reading people.
At a glance, I could usually tell what kind of person someone was.
Kim Hyunjun seemed timid.
But also kind-hearted.
Instead of approaching the famous Lee Jueun, he'd chosen to speak first to the lonely transfer student sitting by
himself.
'Just like I used to.'
While we chatted about the transfer exam and broke the ice...
“Hey, Yoonseong... do you happen to like anime?”
Kim Hyunjun suddenly asked with a rather suspicious grin.
“Anime?”
“Animation. Mostly Japanese.”
Japanese animation.
I didn't watch much, but I'd seen a few.
“Stuff like Ghibli? Or One Piece, Naruto, Bleach?”
The moment he heard my answer...
Kim Hyunjun looked genuinely disappointed.
“...That's too bad. You're not one of us.”
“One of us?”
“It's... a thing.”
Life really was fascinating.
Even after regressing so many times...
There were still words and entire worlds I knew nothing about.
“You'll have to explain it to me sometime.”
“Really? You actually want to know?”
“If there's something I don't know, isn't it only natural that I'd want to learn it?”
His eyes immediately lit up.
“Got it. I'll make sure to prepare a proper introduction.”
Hmm.
Hopefully this wasn't some pyramid scheme.
“By the way, Yoonseong. Earlier you said you're good at writing, right?”
“Yeah. I'm pretty good.”
“Do you write novels or poetry?”
“Both. But I'm better at novels.”
“T-That's incredible. How good are you?”
How good?
I rested my chin on my hand for a moment before answering.
“Well... not good enough to win the Nobel Prize in Literature.”
He chuckled.
Look at that.
He thought I was joking.
“So... good enough to win the New Year's Literary Contest?”
“Yeah.”
“Hahaha... nice joke... huh? Wait, what?”
Kim Hyunjun clearly thought I was making a ridiculous joke.
But I was completely serious.
“That's easily within my ability.”
Because next year...
I intended to win it.
“Enough with the boring talk.”
I leaned forward.
“You're Kim Hyunjun, right? Do you like soccer?”
“S-soccer?”
His eyes became as round as the glasses he wore.
“Yeah.”
When you think of high school...
You think of lunchtime.
And lunchtime meant soccer.
“Want to play a game with me?”
---
Normally, a high school's sports field would be packed with students playing soccer and basketball during lunch.
But...
Goyeong Arts High School's field was always quiet.
Everyone was too busy studying or practicing their craft.
Yet today—
Thump!
The sound of a soccer ball being kicked echoed across the field.
Students passing by turned to look.
There were only two students there.
And to make it even stranger...
“Ha! Did you see that shot? That curve would've put Son Heung-min to shame!”
Not students from the Acting or Dance Department.
Just two boys from the Creative Writing Department.
Yoonseong proudly celebrated after sending the ball into the goal.
Meanwhile...
“Y-yeah. Yoonseong... you're really good.”
Kim Hyunjun, standing in front of the goal, had gone completely pale.
Yoonseong looked at him.
“But you should at least pretend to block my shots. You've just been standing there the whole time.”
“B-but... the ball's scary. What if it hits my face...”
“How can you play soccer if you're scared of the ball?”
“I got yelled at while playing in elementary school. I haven't touched a soccer ball since.”
“What? Don't the boys in our class play during lunch?”
“O-of course not. Who has time? Everyone's busy reading or doing assignments.”
Kim Hyunjun had practically been dragged out to play goalkeeper.
He'd never imagined that on his very first day he'd end up playing soccer with the transfer student.
Not that Yoonseong cared.
“This won't do. You can write, but you're hopeless at soccer. Don't worry. Starting today, your big brother's going to
train you.”
Yoonseong clicked his tongue.
“T-training?”
“That's right. I'll erase your soccer trauma.”
“B-but why does an arts student need to be good at soccer?”
“Goyeong Arts High still has sports festivals, doesn't it? We should prepare for those.”
Kim Hyunjun stood there with his mouth hanging open.
He'd seen students obsess over level tests, writing contests, competitions, and college entrance exams countless times.
But someone preparing for the sports festival?
That was a first.
“As long as you defend well, I'll carry the team. Don't worry.”
The transfer student, Jeong Yoonseong, said it with complete confidence.
His face...
Looked genuinely happy.
---
How long had it been since I'd actually worked up a sweat during lunch?
I was soaked, but I felt so refreshed that I could practically fly.
'It's been ages since I last touched a soccer ball.'
There was a time I'd wondered...
If my quest had been to win the Ballon d'Or or the World Cup instead of the Nobel Prize in Literature...
Could I have cleared it?
'Not a chance.'
Before I devoted myself to writing...
Soccer had been my only hobby.
'It all started after I watched Son Heung-min's Puskás Award video on YouTube when I was little.'
That was why I became a Tottenham fan.
Maybe it was fate.
Tottenham and I had one huge thing in common.
Neither of us had ever won the title we truly wanted.
Across all those countless regressions...
Just as I'd never won the Nobel Prize...
Tottenham had never lifted the championship either.
Damn it.
'Anyway, the more I regressed, the less interest I had in soccer.'
Watching Tottenham only made me angry instead of relieving stress.
And playing soccer wasn't going to earn me a Nobel Prize.
I'd always rather spend that time writing another sentence.
But kicking the ball again after so long...
It felt unbelievably refreshing.
For once, I could forget about the Nobel Prize and simply run around without a single worry.
'Next time, I'll gather more people.'
Yeah.
Soccer during lunch—that's what high school life is all about.
I was in such a good mood that I found myself humming.
“...”
Beside me, Lee Jueun stared as if wondering what kind of crazy person I was.
“Welcome, both of you.”
As Lee Jueun and I entered the Creative Writing Department office, Department Head Chae Woonggi greeted us.
“So, how was your first day after transferring?”
Lee Jueun scratched her head.
“I'm still adjusting. I'm pretty nervous.”
“Hahaha. That's understandable.”
With practical classes about to begin, she still looked tense.
Unlike me, who had slept through the morning, she'd spent the entire time surrounded by classmates talking to her.
“Jeong Yoonseong, now that you're officially one of our students, I'll speak more casually.”
Department Head Chae turned toward me.
“What about you, Yoonseong?”
I nodded.
“I like it here. It feels as comfortable as home.”
I wasn't exaggerating.
Other than my own house, this was the first place where I'd become this sleepy.
And after working up a sweat playing soccer, I felt even better.
“Hahaha! You're the first student who's ever said that. I like it!”
The department head laughed heartily and patted my shoulder.
Lee Jueun looked at me as if thinking, What kind of lunatic is this?
She was tense out of her mind as another transfer student.
Meanwhile, I was saying I felt completely at home.
“So then. It may be sudden since it's your first day, but you'll be taking a test right away.”
“A... test?”
Lee Jueun looked visibly flustered.
The department head explained.
“That's right. Our first-year students are divided into groups of about ten. Parts A, B, C, and D. Those groups are
decided through quarterly evaluations so we can teach according to each student's level.”
Gulp.
I heard Lee Jueun swallow nervously.
She was probably thinking, So this really is Goyeong Arts High.
Officially, it was simply level-based class placement.
But nothing stirred competition more than this.
The students in Group A fought to keep their positions.
Those in B, C, and D fought desperately to move up.
Every quarter they had to prove themselves to survive.
“Don't be too nervous. Transfer students are usually placed into Group D. The existing groups are based on our current
students' level. You'll be tested again in your second year, so you can aim higher then.”
The department head waved his hand dismissively.
That's what he said.
But the reality was different.
For the instructors...
And for the students...
This was the perfect chance to see what the transfer students were really capable of.
Especially...
'I already went around bragging that I was good at writing.'
There were probably students thinking...
Let's see what you've got.
If I wrote anything less than impressive, they'd laugh and say, Knew he was all talk.
But...
What if I produced something extraordinary?
“Alright then. Let's begin.”
The department head led us into an empty classroom.
He handed us large manuscript paper, the kind used in writing competitions.
“Now then. Here's today's prompt.”
Ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum.
He tapped the desk like a drumroll, deliberately building suspense.
Watching Lee Jueun grow more nervous by the second made me chuckle.
“This test's topic is... Rewriting a Korean Classic.”
“A... a classic?”
“That's right. Rewrite a Korean classic in a modern way. It must be a Korean story. A folktale, legend, myth—anything is
fine.”
This school really was unique.
Or perhaps simply operating at a higher level.
Just like the transfer exam, they avoided ordinary prompts.
They wanted to see the full extent of each student's imagination.
“A classic... a classic... w-what are my options?”
The moment she heard the topic, Lee Jueun panicked.
She grabbed her head and muttered to herself.
It wasn't an easy assignment.
First, she'd have to remember the classics she knew.
Then she'd have to figure out how to reinterpret one.
The test measured two things at once.
Knowledge of Korean classics.
And the literary ability to reinvent them.
For a high school student...
It was far from easy.
'For a high school student, anyway.'
What I needed wasn't creativity.
Or the ability to develop a fresh idea.
I simply had to search through the enormous library stored inside my mind and retrieve the perfect work.
'Found it.'
Once the search was complete...
All I had to do was reproduce it.
The work I chose was—
'I am not like that foolish bear.
I will never fall for the humans' deception.'
The most famous Korean myth of all.
The Dangun Myth.
The story of the bear and the tiger.
'I did not fail to become human.
I abandoned humanity of my own free will.'
A story that reimagined the myth in a futuristic world where even animals could be transformed into humans.
A cyberpunk reinterpretation.