237 - The Genius Discovery Squad
Every era brought education fever in slightly different forms, but in Korea, it never truly flickered out even once. From the mid-1940s, public education declined, and private tutoring—suppressed with great effort—began surging back. Answering the call of this era, the program Genius Discovery Squad revived in a new season, aping the old corner format, and raked in huge popularity. PDs and writers had always thirsted for geniuses, then and now. Just as Life's Masters pivoted from its original concept to food tours due to content exhaustion, Genius Discovery Squad had honed the art of overhypeing ordinary kids to the point where maybe they should've just renamed it Nerd Discovery Squad.
"This time it's different. They bundled two specials together for scheduling, and it's all approved up top, so no backing out. You guys absolutely cannot cause any accidents out there, got it?"
The rare day of filming an actual genius—one that only came a few times a year—had arrived even for the junior PD. They'd received orders from the CP (Chief Producer) of Genius Discovery Squad to scrape together as much footage as possible. But filming kids always came with lurking risks. Children rarely cooperated smoothly, and parents sometimes flipped on agreements mid-shoot. They'd even seen threats of defamation lawsuits if the broadcast went even slightly off-script, so first meetings were always tense.
"Got a title yet? Let's see Park Yeo-reum PD's naming skills."
It was tradition for Genius Discovery Squad to have the most junior PD name the episode. Young people's fresh creativity resonated more with the audience. Of all shows for her debut, it had to be NoName—heart pounding, she barely managed to speak.
"The Reincarnation of Original Genius Girl Ham Chorong. How about 'NoName-chan Solves Math Puzzle Solo'?"
"It's solid, but... kinda bland for a special. You sure you came up with this? Broke through 120-to-1 odds to join us, and this is it? Kinda disappointing."
"Uh... well..."
She flicked her eyes sideways. Her senior suddenly whipped his head around in panic.
"Wait, did you write it for her?"
"No, but Park Yeo-reum PD's title... it just didn't feel right for broadcast."
"Why'd you decide that? What was the original?"
"You really wanna hear it...?"
The junior PD's pupils trembled wildly. She hung her head, mumbling like an ant crawling in.
"Swi..."
"Couldn't catch that. Louder?"
"The Swiss government in panic, German chancellor full of regret: 100-billion-won Korean super-genius NoName-chan..."
"Eek!"
"Pfft!"
"Hahaha! But why 100 billion? Wasn't it 10?"
"Round up, it's 100."
"Not rounding?"
"Ceiling's the national rule."
"Just say 1 trillion next time..."
"Whoa... kids these days are wild in a whole other way. You run a nationalist TV channel before PDing?"
"Yeeeah..."
"Yeeeah?"
"Just a teeeny bit...! Not that I'm politically biased or anything! Just wanted to make some real cash..."
The seniors' words dried up at the junior's bold confession. Midway through the chat, the crew arrived at NoName's building. Meeting time approached, but 9 a.m. felt early, so they called ahead.
"Yes, yes, yes—oh, thank you. Got it, we'll head in with the film crew when they arrive. Thanks!"
Today's weather ruled out outdoor shoots. For day one, they'd keep it simple: greetings, then film her daily routine.
"All set? Let's go."
"Hold up!"
Someone stopped the writer and PDs unfolding umbrellas to exit the van.
"You know to watch your mouths around kids, right? Think two, three—no, ten times before speaking."
This girl had past trauma. One wrong word could trigger it and blow everything up. The crew nodded solemnly and headed to the apartment.
* * *
Knock knock knock—
"Hello! We're from ZBS Genius Discovery Squad! We heard a kid here proved that math puzzle— is this NoName-chan's place?"
"That line's too scripted. Viewers won't buy it."
"Huh?"
NoName peeked through the door crack, frowning. An hour earlier, the crew had set up cameras in the living room and schoolroom, explained the schedule to Cheon Professor and NoName, then gone outside to "first-meet" for the reenactment. But the PD's awkward intro clearly didn't impress her.
"And people don't usually bow before the door even opens. Makes it look like you already know I'll let you in."
"Haha... fair? Redo it—give your big sis one more shot?"
"Can't you just proceed? Come in."
As Cheon Professor headed to the study for interviews with the other PDs, the crew—including the junior PD—were left alone with NoName. Without a word, she flopped on the living room sofa and tuned into foreign news on TV. Crossing one leg over the other, she exuded the vibe of a jaded adult—adorably out of place on a kid.
"You get all this English news?"
"Yeah. Says if the U.S. doesn't raise the debt ceiling for more borrowing, it'll default on 50 trillion dollars. That'd spike UK mortgage rates, worsen unemployment, and fuel global inflation."
"Whoa, insane!"
"But Republicans and Democrats won't let talks fail. It's just posturing to show how dire the economy is. Stocks dipped hard but'll rebound."
The news flowed entirely in English, no translator. Global economic crisis talk spilling from that tiny mouth? Her debut was no joke.
"Do you watch news like this every morning, NoName?"
"Not really on TV. Internet usually. But since you're broadcast pros, it'd hurt if I skipped it too."
In an era where 3% ratings were a smash hit, TV struggled to hold hearts. Stations fought over shrinking pie slices. NoName—prime beneficiary of solo streaming—offered comfort, then flicked off the news.
To the bone-chilled PDs, she beckoned to her room.
Room looks kinda empty?
The PDs blinked at the unexpectedly tidy space—no wall-to-wall bookshelves, no post-it explosions.
"You study here, NoName?"
"Paper studies with Cheon Professor in the kitchen evenings. Personal research? Mostly in VR."
"Ah, VR!"
Alpha-gen kids studied in VR, and NoName led the pack. Some parents disapproved, but experts agreed: best efficiency where you're comfy. Genius Discovery Squad PDs knew this from interviews.
"You seem planned—got a schedule?"
"All in my head. No strict times, just daily quotas."
"Show us your routine?"
"It's workout time normally, but camera-shy level—mind if we skip?"
"Workout? What kind?"
"Light stretching, yoga-ish."
"Hmm... how 'bout this?"
One PD pulled up a saved video.
"Footage from Germany—is this kid you, NoName?"
Her face darkened. Germany footage? Had to be that one. Sure enough: her blasting threatening men away.
"Yeah... looks like me."
"How'd you pull those moves? Or the situation?"
"Situation? You want the dialogue?"
"Yep, everything."
She pondered, chin in hand—gauging broadcast safety.
"Here: Die Chinesen sind wirklich überall. Then bad English asking where my mom's at. This bit: Vielleicht ist er bereits krank und gestorben. The coughing guy's yelling 'corona' nonstop."
"...? You speak German?"
"Communication level."
Honey dripped from the PDs' stares. Under an hour filmed—already broadcast-ready. Beaming, they begged translations.
"'Chinese are really everywhere.' 'Maybe she's already sick and croaked.'"
"W-wait! Cut filming! Cut!"
"They insulted my mom—who died protecting me. Who'd stay calm? I told 'em to rot off before I kraut-ify their parents too."
Kraut: Sauerkraut, German slur. Like kimchi or doenjang for Koreans. NoName fought racism with racism.
As it veered uncensorable, PDs panicked and halted. But no deleting footage lightly.
We're screwed...
The junior PD and assistants dreaded the CP's puffed-up expectations.
"Sorry... too much?"
"Well..."
Her eyes drooped like a rain-soaked kitten. The crew's hearts ached. Mom talk was her reverse scale—they knew from old contest interviews how she'd sacrificed. Her outburst? Natural.
Huddling, they decided.
"Air it as-is."
"You're nuts?"
"Edit NoName's lines. Think of the audience."
No European watched Korean variety. But Asia? Indonesia #3, Turkey #2, #1...
"China...! Won't that blow up?"
The Germans dissed China more than Korea. With China's global heft, surface niceties ruled. The junior PD fretted diplomacy; seniors dropped life wisdom.
"Idiot. We chase ratings."
Capitalist mindset locked, they resumed.
"I'm under the weather—can't demo here. VR instead?"
"NoName! Mind filming your stream too?"
"Stream? Twitch?"
"Yeah! Next on schedule, but today works. Cool?"
"Sudden, but sure."
"Yeo-reum, tell camera director: VR crew needed."
"Got it!"
Pre-VR login, NoName powered her capsule to cleaning mode. Electricity and mana sucked out dust. The camera director—just filming Cheon Professor, now in her room—got the update. After chit-chat, he shoved a huge camera at her.
"...?"
Perfect timing—a crewmate asked:
"What's NoName's tier?"
"Tier? Ah."
Getting it, NoName smirked mysteriously.
No tier brag? Rude.
"Not sure the game. World of Arceria's Grandmaster, Legacy of Legend's Challenger."