Hiding in Plain Sight

The small conference room of the Child Development Center in the Pediatric Psychiatry Department at Ilsung General Hospital.

Yoon ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Kyung-mi placed the test results on the table, looking at Professor Lee Min-ah, the pediatric psychiatrist who had examined Cheol-jun today.

Kyung-mi's face was already flushed with excitement before she even uttered a word.

The pediatric psychiatrist looked at Yoon Kyung-mi with a puzzled expression, then opened the test file.

"The test results show an IQ of 120. However, as the examiner, I believe this child possesses a far higher level of intelligence."

Yoon Kyung-mi pointed at the test sheet and continued.

"The genius he clearly displayed in the early stages of the block design test seemed to fade into mediocrity during the similarities subtest."

Actually, his score was slightly above average.

But it was nowhere near the thrilling brilliance she had felt during the block design ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠portion.

The similarities subtest.

These were questions where a child would score two points for conceptually accurate answers, like identifying the commonality between an apple and a banana as "fruit" or "delicious."

As the questions progressed, the concepts became more abstract and the difficulty increased.

On a five-tier scale, an average eleven-year-old would typically score only one or zero points starting from tier four, where abstract concepts must be formulated.

In this section, Cheol-jun had quite a few items where his answers were delayed or couched in ambiguous terms.

"However, this was one of his answers during the high-difficulty section."

Kyung-mi clicked her mouse, and a voice flowed from the conference room speakers.

Professor Lee Min-ah, who had been listening silently, raised an eyebrow.

It wasn't consequential reasoning; it was teleological reasoning.

It certainly wasn't an answer a typical eleven-year-old would come up with on the spot.

Observing Professor Lee's expression, Yoon Kyung-mi pressed on.

"During the digit span and matrix reasoning sections, I caught him intentionally delaying his answers multiple times. His lips clearly twitched as if he already knew the answer, but he pretended to ponder a bit longer to drag out the time before speaking. As for vocabulary, considering his background—living in China without any formal education—his relatively lower score is understandable. But in figure weights, visual puzzles, and picture span, there was a clear and consistent tendency to deliberately lower his performance."

Professor Lee Min-ah tapped her temple with her index finger as she reviewed the test sheets.

"So, you're saying this IQ score of 120 is a number he deliberately engineered?"

"Yes!"

"Hmm... A few of his answers are indeed quite intriguing. But this feels like confirmation bias. It feels like you're forcing the pieces to fit under the assumption that this child is some unspeakable genius. An eleven-year-old deliberately masking his own intellectual capacity? Come on. That's a stretch."

"But..."

"How many times have you attended the Child Development Conference in China?"

"Twice..."

"They said this child just came from Shenyang. You know what the atmosphere in that city is like, right?"

Yoon Kyung-mi knitted her brows and nodded.

She understood exactly what Professor Lee was getting at.

Shenyang, China, was famous for its intense academic fervor.

There were quite a few schools there that children could only enter if their initial IQ test met a certain threshold.

Consequently, the private tutoring market for the Wechsler Intelligence Scale was absolutely booming.

Children who would normally score around 100 to 110 were trained to score over 130.

South Korea was no different.

In Daechi-dong, there were countless academies preparing even preschoolers for the Wechsler test.

Kyung-mi had seen plenty of kids who had been trained in such academies.

And the common indicator in those children was an abnormally high score in visual-spatial and fluid reasoning.

The very areas that had astonished her fell precisely into those categories.

"But this child is..."

Professor Lee Min-ah shook her head.

"120 is a perfectly fine score. It's the top 10%. Even with this, guardians start painting all sorts of rosy futures in their heads. You've seen it enough to know, right? They'll start pushing the kid to the brink. Sending them to multiple academies starting in elementary school. Haven't you seen kids ruined like that? Haven't you seen parents coming back to complain after getting a high IQ score? 'You said he was a genius! Why isn't he ranking first? Why didn't he get into Seoul National University?' It makes me sick. The child's emotional state is completely withered, but the parents couldn't care less. This child is already in a very fragile psychological state. Let's not give the guardian any false expectations."

Observing Yoon Kyung-mi's dissatisfied expression, Professor Lee tapped the test sheets again and spoke.

"Now, let's think about this. If it weren't for my psychological referral, would you have looked at him so exceptionally from the start?"

"Well..."

"I noticed a few things too. He exhibits many personality traits common in gifted children—attention deficit, perfectionism, emotional overexcitability, obsessive-compulsive tendencies. But the statistics we know are based on children raised in normal environments. Look at this child's situation. He watched his father die right in front of him. He's terrified of the world. Extreme psychological trauma can produce very similar symptoms."

"..."

"Even to my eyes, the boy is clearly smart. He might indeed be the incredible genius you claim. But look, if an eleven-year-old is such a monstrous genius that he can deliberately hide his own intelligence, he'll find his own way to succeed no matter what. It's only right that we stay within our boundaries. We have a concrete test score now. We shouldn't get ahead of ourselves. Let's keep these speculative theories to ourselves. We can't put such conjectures into an official medical record."

Yoon Kyung-mi nodded reluctantly.

Every single word the professor said was undeniably true.

"This is the best advice I can offer as a pediatric psychiatrist who absolutely loathes South Korea's academic-obsessed society."

Professor Lee Min-ah patted Kyung-mi on the shoulder and walked out of the small conference room.

Is that so...?

Yoon Kyung-mi pouted slightly and began gathering the test papers.

"No matter how I look at him, he doesn't resemble Jaegang at all. His mother must have been an incredible beauty."

At lawyer Kang Seok-hyun's remark, Oh Hyeong-man nodded as he toyed with a beautifully manicured bonsai tree.

"Right? I think the exact same thing every time I look at him."

"Wow. And the kid is seriously smart. Whenever you ask him something, his answers are sharp as a tack. Is he really only eleven? He's way better than some dimwitted adults."

"Why are you looking at me when you say that? You trying to piss me off?"

"Hey, just kidding, just kidding."

"This punk..."

Kang Seok-hyun gazed quietly through the office window at the boy sitting on the sofa, letting out a soft sigh.

"Whew, Jaegang raised him incredibly well."

"Right? We've only spent a single day together, and he keeps catching me off guard. The kid is sharp as a whip. Hey, we did an intelligence test today, and his IQ is 120! 120! Top 10%!"

"Haha, he'll definitely do well in school. Oh, right, we need to sort out his school first. I'll have the paperwork ready in no time, so go register his change of address to your place today, then head to the assigned school for a consultation."

"Okay."

"Now I see why he chose you as the guardian. He probably wanted his son to go to school in Gangnam. There are plenty of people who owed Jaegang favors besides you, including me. I was a bit puzzled when he specifically designated you as the guardian, but now it makes perfect sense."

Hyeong-man chuckled.

Even for a guy as meticulous as Jaegang, would ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠he really have calculated that far?

He probably just left the kid with him because Hyeong-man was the only bachelor among them, had plenty of free time due to his line of work, and was financially well-off.

But school, huh...

"Hey, what about a private school?"

"A private school?"

"If I'm going to send him, I might as well send him to a good place. An IQ of 120 is on the higher side, too. And tuition... no matter how expensive it is, it's only for two years..."

"Well, private schools are definitely good. The ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠curriculum is different. It's the best for a well-rounded education like English, arts, and physical education. But wait, fifth grade? The kids in private schools must already be insanely ahead with advanced learning. Will he be able to keep up?"

"Nah, doing it cold would be impossible. I'm thinking of getting him some tutors or sending him to academies since we still have some time before the semester starts."

"That's going to cost a pretty penny. Ah! Are you planning to deduct it from that? The one billion won we notarized today?"

"Hey, that's Jaegang's legacy. How could I touch that? I'm paying for this out of my own pocket."

Hyeong-man tapped the tips of the bonsai's pine needles.

They were sharp and pricked his finger.

Hyeong-man scrunched up his nose.

"I couldn't even take proper care of my own kid because of that damn government work. In a way, this feels like a second chance Jaegang gave me. If that's the case, I'm going to raise him so well that he won't have to envy anyone."

"Wow, you're really serious about this. Private school, huh... Hanyoung Elementary would be perfect. It's close to where you live, and it's one of the prestigious private elementary schools in the Gangnam area. But private schools run on a lottery system, so transferring mid-term might be tough."

Hyeong-man raised an eyebrow.

"Well, there's always a way. Anyway, we're all done with what we had to do today, right? Anything else I need to take care of?"

"That's enough for today. I'll let you know if anything comes from the court later. Child welfare services might call out of the blue, so make sure to answer even if it's an unknown number. Oh, and you can open a phone line under his name now. Buy him a phone first. The guardianship process is officially wrapped up for now."

"Got it. Thanks!"

"Set a date soon. Everyone is dying to meet him."

"Sure, sure."

The two men looked out at Cheol-jun, who was sitting politely on the reception sofa outside the office, and smiled warmly.

Cheol-jun was pretending to be calm, but in truth, he was utterly exhausted.

Until now, he had lived doubting and guarding against everyone except his father.

His rare human relationships had been divided simply into dangerous people and non-dangerous people.

It was incredibly simple and intuitive.

Because of that, the mapping of his social network data in his head had been remarkably clean.

But after just one day in South Korea, things had become incredibly complicated.

Now he had to categorize non-hostile, non-dangerous people individually.

To be honest, Cheol-jun didn't really know how to treat people who weren't dangerous.

He had no baseline for how much of his guard he should let down.

Non-dangerous people are actually more exhausting...

Furthermore, he still hadn't properly grasped the standards of "normal" and "ordinary."

In front of his father, he had lived without needing to hide anything.

But that was no longer the case.

When he hung out with the consulate staff's kids in Shenyang, he had tried to establish a baseline by adjusting his vocabulary to match theirs and observing their reactions, but his learning was still incomplete.

The psychological evaluation, in particular, had been a nightmare.

Since questions without any clear purpose kept flying at him, there were quite a few moments where he couldn't make a proper judgment.

Even though he had been incredibly careful during the IQ test, he couldn't shake the feeling that he had been seen through.

Not knowing how much I gave away is the most frustrating part. I know they caught on to something, but I don't know how far.

Most of all, he had no one to ask.

He had never realized that making every decision without his father would be this difficult.

It was clear that Uncle Hyeong-man was a good person.

But he didn't know how far he could trust him yet.

If anything, the lawyer uncle he met today, Kang Seok-hyun, seemed more reliable.

Ah, the name Kang Seok-hyun had been third on the list of potential guardians his father had prepared.

Ah... my head hurts.

It felt like an earthquake was rattling his brain.

And yet, it was somewhat fun.

He had never had to think so deeply that his mind overloaded like this before.

In the past, the correct answers had always just presented themselves clearly.

First, he organized the data on the people he had met today.

The people at the hospital could be excluded for now, as he likely wouldn't see them again.

Lawyer Uncle is, for now, Tier 3 Trust in my inner circle.

Just then, the office door swung open.

"Hey, kiddo! What do you want for dinner tonight?"

Uncle Hyeong-man, who was still sitting at Tier 4 Trust, beamed at him.

Cheol-jun felt a tiny pang of guilt.

"Ah, this is the best phone that's come out recently. It folds open wide like this..."

"That looks good. I'll take it."

"But for an elementary schooler, it might be a bit..."

"Didn't you say it's the best? Just give me that one."

"Ah..."

"Activate it right away. Let's see, I just need to fill this out, right?"

"Yes! Yes! Sign there in the guardian section, and the child's personal information goes over there... Oh, and the elementary school plan is this one here..."

"Just give him the unlimited plan."

"Yes! Right away!"

Cheol-jun stared with wide eyes at the phone, which was much larger than his own hand.

He hadn't been allowed to use a phone in China.

His father had a phone, but for security reasons, they were never allowed to search for anything on it.

In any case, this was the first time in his life he was getting a phone of his own.

"Alright, it's activated. You can start making calls once the confirmation text comes in a bit..."

Whoa...

When unfolded, the screen was as big as his face.

"Do you like it?"

"Yes!"

Cheol-jun smiled brightly.

"Hey. How is it? Killer, right?"

Cheol-jun widened his eyes and nodded vigorously.

He couldn't speak.

His mouth was completely stuffed.

He had tried Korean food a few times in China, but this was his first time having marinated pork ribs.

It was truly a heavenly taste.

"Eat slowly, kid. I'll order more for you."

Hyeong-man looked at Cheol-jun with a warm, satisfied face.

He was glad he had searched for foods that elementary schoolers liked beforehand.

"Want a pepper? This is a cucumber pepper, it's not spicy at all. It goes great with the meat."

When Hyeong-man dipped a pepper in ssamjang and offered it, Cheol-jun cautiously took a bite.

After crunching on it, he quickly took another bite.

This kid. So full of suspicion.

The life of a black ops agent in China was obvious.

And Jaegang, who had been a top-tier strike agent, must have been even more extreme.

He would have had to stay tense every single second, doubting everything around him.

Man, it breaks my heart.

He had to drive, but he was suddenly craving a shot of soju.

I'll drink at home after putting the kid to bed.

Hyeong-man smacked his lips.

Lying in bed, Cheol-jun couldn't fall asleep at all.

Whoa...

Because a world he had never seen before was unfolding right in his hands.

"Kiddo! Stop looking at your phone and go to sleep!"

"Yes!"

Cheol-jun quickly folded his phone.

Even so, sleep eluded him.

All the things he could do with the phone were floating around in his head.

He pulled the blanket all the way over his head and smiled brightly.

"Yeah, right. Didn't you say your nephew tutors elementary school kids? ... Ah, Gangnam? Perfect. Let's get him to tutor my kid. ... Huh? He's my nephew. My nephew. Yeah, got it. I'll call you tomorrow then. Okay, thanks."

Hyeong-man hung up, downed a shot of soju, and tapped away on his phone.

"Ah, damn... This is tough. Really tough."

Scratching his head, Hyeong-man tossed his phone onto the sofa.