Surplus Human

Wednesday. Major class time.

"So, a pointer variable is a variable that stores a memory address value..."

The professor-nim's monotonous voice fills the lecture hall like a lullaby.

That noble knowledge enters through my left ear, passes smoothly through my brain without stopping, and exits through my right ear.

I rested my chin on my hand and blankly took in the lecture hall scenery.

At the front row, the model students who diligently take notes as if they might miss even one word of the professor-nim's words.

In the middle seats, the distracters who have propped up their iPads and are watching Newtube instead of their major textbooks in PDF.

And at the very back, people like me who left their souls at home.

'After class ends... I have a free period.'

Damn free period. If it were really long, I'd go to a PC room and play games properly, but it's too awkward to walk home and come back, and staying at school is boring—the devil's time slot.

'Should I get a bicycle?'

Nothing beats a bicycle for coming and going to school.

But then it crossed my mind that this is the country of Eom Bok-dong.

Even if you leave your laptop and wallet on a café table, no one steals them, but for bicycles, it's the legendary Korean public safety where even one wheel and one saddle get stolen.

If I buy an expensive one, I'll surely end up grabbing a bicycle with only a bare frame left in three days and sobbing.

Later, I'll look on Carrot for a piece of junk that just barely rolls, one that looks unstealable to anyone.

Just then, as I blankly shifted my gaze, Ga-young's side profile sitting next to me came into view.

"Eh?"

There was a thin bandage on her cheek. It definitely wasn't there yesterday. As expected, my observation skills rival the protagonist of a detective manga.

"Ga-young-ah, how did you get a wound on your face?"

"Huh? Ah... this?"

Ga-young flinched and covered the bandaged spot with her hand.

"I just... got hurt while exercising."

"Exercising? What kind of exercise do you do to hurt your face? Are you learning martial arts?"

"Uh, yeah... something like that. Hehe."

Ga-young laughed awkwardly and turned her gaze away. It feels a bit off, but I guess she fell and scraped it or bumped into something.

I nodded nonchalantly and turned my gaze forward again.

Right in front of me sat Park Hyun-woo, the only male classmate in our department. Next to the back of his head, three female classmates were huddled together.

'What were their names again? I forgot again.'

Park... something, and Choi... someone. It's been a while since I enrolled, but I still can't even remember my classmates' names clearly. It's not a memory problem, but rather a lack of interest.

"Alright, we'll end today's lecture here."

The sound of the boring lecture ending. As soon as the professor-nim's words fell, the lecture hall became chaotic.

Park Hyun-woo and his group also packed their bags and stood up.

"Ga-young-ah, see you later! Jin-hyeok, you too, bye~"

The female classmates with unknown names waved at us.

I raised my hand vaguely to respond.

Those kids clung tightly to Hyun-woo's arms and exited the lecture hall.

But.

'Hm?'

Looking at their retreating backs, I felt a strange sense of dissonance.

'They seem... to have gained weight?'

Two of Park Hyun-woo's girlfriends. Their appearance had clearly changed compared to the beginning of the semester. How should I put it? Their waistlines have thickened? Their bellies seem a bit protruding too.

'The saying that you lose weight in college is all bullshit.'

They must be busy drinking, eating late-night snacks, and going on dates, so it's natural to gain weight. Even though it's not the season for autumn growing, they've gotten plump. They must be gaining weight from happiness.

Look, those expanded figures.

"Jin-hyeok-ah, where are you ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠going? Want to grab a meal?"

Ga-young, who was packing her bag, asked.

"No. I'm going to the club room."

"Club? Ah... that place again?"

Ga-young sighed 'ah' and then made a subtly disappointed expression.

"Yeah... If it's that place, it's a bit hard for me to follow. Okay. Go and rest."

I sent Ga-young off first and immediately moved my steps.

I didn't even look at the student center where the decent and popular central clubs are gathered.

Because Hellgate would be open with crowds there right now. My destination is the corner of campus, the old Humanities Building with few people. At the end of that dusty hallway lies my sanctuary.

[Hanlim Classic Studies Society]

Euphemistically called a society, but in reality, it's a club created through borderline fraud with a trick. The perpetrator who made it fled to the military, and now it's like a ghost club barely maintained by one naive department head.

But to me, this place is like the Garden of Eden. Above all, being tucked away in a corner means few people pass by, and I don't have to run into anyone I know—perfect.

On the other hand, the 'Utopia' club, which means 'a paradise only for men'... ugh, just thinking about it drains my energy.

These days, even entering that place is a hardship. No, lately it's truly a dystopia.

The early semester crowds were nothing. As time passed, the number of people who formed groups and opened their eyes to something increased exponentially.

To go there, you'd have to take a Dante's Inferno tour. According to academic consensus, to go to heaven, one must pass through hell and purgatory, but I didn't want to walk that path of asceticism.

Kkiik—

Entering the club room. As expected, no one is here.

This silence filled with stillness.

I headed straight for the sofa, kicked off my shoes with a thud, and lay down. The worn-out springs poke my back, but even this feels comfortable.

'Ah... this is it.'

What a blessing it is to have a place where I can really stretch out my legs and lie down comfortably. I closed my eyes and tried to enjoy the tranquility.

But then.

— ··· heueut, heuap.

"......?"

A strange faint sound came from somewhere. Is it because I had opened the inner window slightly for ventilation? The sound from outside was seeping through the gap.

'Who's crying?'

Why is it crying so sadly? Did his/her grades explode? I clicked my tongue and casually turned my head to look outside the window.

It was the back of the building, a secluded flower bed area not frequented by people.

— Honey, what if someone sees us...

— Shh, not many people come here. As long as you don't make loud noises, it's fine.

Two shadows were tangled together. Long hair and long hair. Curves and curves.

'O-u...'

A dense love affair between a woman and a woman. A scene of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠so-called lilies in full bloom.

I rested my chin on my hand and dryly looked down at the scene.

In my heart, I wanted to shout, 'Hey, you fucking bastards! Go do it somewhere else!'

It would be quite an interesting experiment to observe how startled they would be and fall apart.

'But, that's too trashy...'

I heard that a man intruding on lilies is taboo.

Kkiik-

The sound of the club room door opening.

"Eh? Jin-hyeok came?"

Small stature. A messy white hair, as if she had eaten the wrong herbal medicine somewhere and lost all pigment.

It was the department head of this club, Han Seo-yul.

"What are you doing in front of the window?"

The department head put down her bag and approached me. Without a second's hesitation, I reached out and closed the inner window.

Tak.

Blocked from outside. Perfect soundproofing. I decided to bury that sticky ASMR outside as a secret only I know.

"I was just looking outside."

I turned around calmly as if nothing had happened.

"What's out there?"

The department head stood on tiptoe and peeked toward the window.

"No. Nothing there. Just weeds are overgrown. I closed it in case bugs get in."

"Ah, really?"

The department head nodded and went straight to the sofa, flopping down. Fortunately, she seems to pass over without any particular suspicion.

We each lounged in comfortable positions. It's called club activity, but in reality, it's just lazing around.

"I'm hungry. Shall we order Burger Queen?"

"Sure."

We familiarly opened the delivery app. Two burger sets plus one single item. Of course, the extra single item is my portion.

Soon, the delivery arrived, and we silently unwrapped the packaging and stuffed the burgers into our mouths.

While sipping cola, I suddenly looked ahead and noticed the outfit of the department head, who was munching on a burger with both hands. Gone was the modified hanbok she wore at the beginning of the semester; now she was in a loose windbreaker, t-shirt, and short shorts.

"Noona, why don't you wear that... hanbok these days?"

"Ah... that? Because I'm embarrassed... it drew too much attention."

I thought her self had been consumed by the concept, but it seems shame still remained.

"Then what about that historical drama speech style?"

"That too, a little..."

The department head mumbled and avoided eye contact. She looks deflated, like a white dog caught in the rain.

I had the straw in my mouth and casually threw out a remark.

"It suited you. Just do as you feel comfortable."

"It's nice to have a distinct character. It's better than awkwardly following others."

The department head's eyes widened. I feel her thin ears perk up as if interested.

"D-do you think so...?"

"Yes."

"O-nya. I'll give it careful thought."

I chuckled briefly and picked up a french fry again.

We roughly finished eating and each lay around looking at our phones. What broke the silence was my trivial question.

"By the way, noona, how many hours is your free period?"

"Me? 4 hours... inira."

"......"

That's an enormous gap of a free period.

"How did that happen...?"

"That's how it turned out, neurira."

"Is the Korean Literature Department's schedule always that loose? Or is it that noona couldn't make a good one?"

"I have to blame my clumsy hands. The major classes and general education times just didn't match up perfectly."

No wonder you're always holed up in the club room.

"Suddenly curious, how do Korean Literature graduates get jobs after graduation?"

Where do liberal arts graduates go anyway? There's a scary joke on the internet that departments like Philosophy or History eventually end up frying chicken.

"Hmm... Some become writers, some go into teaching. Mostly, they go to law school or graduate school, or into the publishing industry."

A more realistic answer came back than I thought.

"And noona?"

"I want to write or work in publishing."

"Oh..."

Everyone has dreams, huh.

I blankly looked up at the ceiling. While counting the patterns on the old tex ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠ceiling, I suddenly asked myself.

'Why did I come to university...?'

The reason was simple.

I just applied because I heard the Computer Engineering department is a job market bully, and I somehow got accepted, so I came to earn a prestigious university title.

'Come to think of it, the attitude of men in this world toward university is different.'

For the men here, a university diploma is not something fierce for earning a living or supporting a wife and children. It's just a pure field of self-realization.

From the start, there's no pressure for a man to be the head of the family and support it, and there's almost no worry about money. Because if you really need money, it's a social structure where you can earn it somehow if you set your mind to it.

So their passion is bound to be extraordinary.

They don't do it reluctantly; they do it ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠because they like it, so they study like crazy.

If school life is fucked up? You can just drop out anytime.

It's not being dragged along because others go; it's a path you take because you want to. The freedom of choice itself is on a different level.

'......'

Suddenly, my gloomy midterm exam report card crossed my mind.

Even though department studies are tough, it's not a level I can't keep up with. It's not that I'm stupid; it's just that I don't have as much passion as they do.

No desperation, nor romance, so my grades are bound to be mediocre.

'Well, I don't know.'

It's good to have one hill to lean on. Above all, men in this world don't even go to the military.

The two years that would be deleted by military duty are all mine. While going to school comfortably idly for four years, trying this and that, something will work out.

Of course, if things get really tight, I'll just have to ride the 'not in employment' young adult tech like other men in this world.