The Third National Computer Usability Competition
No feast lasts forever. The 88 Olympics, which had stirred excitement across the nation and the world, finally drew its grand curtain to a close. By all accounts, the Games had been a resounding success—not merely in Korea’s own assessment, but in the objective evaluations offered by foreign media. Unlike the half-hearted spectacles of ’80 and ’84, when the communist bloc and Western nations had boycotted in turn, this was a true global gathering where both sides had participated. Thanks to Korea’s national effort, the event had run with remarkable smoothness. Korea’s own performance had been outstanding. The Miracle on the Han had been showcased to the world, transforming the global image of Korea from a war-torn ruin into a nation of dazzling progress. At the Games themselves, Korea secured twelve gold medals and finished fourth overall—a feat that would remain unmatched even into the twenty-first century. Despite controversies over biased judging in boxing and taekwondo, the Olympics had instantly reversed the world’s perception of Korea as nothing more than a battlefield graveyard.
The Games had also left a profound mark on Yoo Jae-won. The final results matched perfectly with the predictions generated by the computer program he had crafted with his small hands. When the final tally was announced, the stunned expressions on his parents’ faces had been a sight to behold. From that day on, no one scolded him for staying up all night at the computer. Their trust in him had grown that much stronger. The news of his entry into the computer competition poured oil on the already blazing fire. It was no longer just a claim that he was good with computers at home; now it was officially recognized at school as well. His parents were overjoyed. Their reaction had been so intense that they had asked him several times whether he was truly allowed to go alone. And it did not end there. Being the kind of parents who loved to boast about their child, they spread the news to everyone—his father’s colleagues, his mother’s acquaintances and regular customers, relatives at church, and neighbors. As a bonus, they confirmed that Yoo Jae-won was exceptionally skilled with computers. Some even approached his mother, Kim Mal-sook, to inquire about purchasing a computer or to request detailed quotes.
While outwardly calm in the face of all the praise, Yoo Jae-won felt a sharp pang of self-reproach inside. Seeing how happy everyone was, he bitterly regretted the foolish version of himself from his previous life who had thrown away such a precious opportunity out of mere embarrassment. The self-reproach was brief. In its place, he steeled his resolve. With newfound confidence and no further hesitation, Yoo Jae-won sat before the computer and threw himself into practice. If simply participating had elicited this kind of reaction, what would happen if he actually brought home an award? It would benefit him, of course, but it would surely bring his parents immense joy. That thought drove him to work even harder.
October 8, 1988. The Third National Computer Usability Competition was held at Jangchung Gymnasium in Seoul. Olympic flags and ribbons still hung around the venue, so the atmosphere of the competition itself was subdued. The only indication was a simple banner at the entrance. Instead, the crowd was dominated by children around Yoo Jae-won’s age and middle- and high-school students whose mustaches were just beginning to sprout—participants who had traveled from all over the country. There were also a fair number of older supervisors. The students were mostly in school uniforms, while the supervisors wore neat 2:8 partings or hair that covered their ears, occasionally paired with horn-rimmed glasses. Yoo Jae-won and Teacher Jeong Hyeon-ung blended in without issue. With his bowl cut, beige suit, horn-rimmed glasses, and classic 1980s hairstyle, Teacher Jeong looked perfectly at home in the era.
“Don’t be nervous.”
Yoo Jae-won had been about to reply that the teacher seemed more nervous than he was, but simply answered, “Yes.”
“Whoa.”
Once they stepped inside the gymnasium, the true atmosphere of the competition finally hit them. Roughly a hundred computers had been set up like a LAN party, arranged in five rows of twenty. The judges’ seats were on a raised platform, with several additional computers nearby. The machines themselves varied widely. The most outdated were XT models with monochrome monitors, while the better ones were 286 AT machines with color displays. Judging by the mix of models, they had clearly been borrowed from nearby schools. Fortunately, the computers near the judges’ area looked brand new, as if their packaging had just been opened. The boxes beside them revealed 386 machines—rare for the time. The CPUs were cutting-edge, but the monitors were still monochrome. These were office-oriented models that minimized unnecessary graphics functions while maximizing processing power. Even so, they were far from cheap; the main unit alone cost over five million won.
While the computers in the gymnasium ranged from one extreme to the other, they shared one common trait: every single one used an Intel CPU and was manufactured by Sambo Computer. Now that he thought about it, the grand banner at the entrance had listed Sambo Computer as a sponsor.
“I hope we get a good spot,” Teacher Jeong Hyeon-ung murmured as he led Yoo Jae-won toward the registration desk, voicing a small wish. Having already verified Yoo Jae-won’s abilities to his own satisfaction, the teacher had no doubt that he would place. Still, he knew full well that the program Yoo Jae-won had prepared would be just two percent short on an XT’s performance.
“Where are you from?” asked the staff member seated at the desk marked “Registration,” his tone mechanical.
“Gyeonggi Province, Deokjin Elementary School. Yoo Jae-won.”
At Teacher Jeong’s reply, the registrar flipped through the list.
“Gyeonggi… Deokjin… Yoo Jae-won. Just one?”
“Yes.”
“The basic competition starts in twenty minutes. Please prepare.”
“Ah, we’re not in the basic division. We’re in the high-school division.”
“Pardon?”
The mention of “elementary school” had made the registrar instinctively reach for a basic-division ticket. Every elementary student registered so far had been entered in the basic competition, so he had assumed the same for Deokjin Elementary’s Yoo Jae-won. Eyes widening, he checked the application list again. Deokjin Elementary was different. The field clearly stated “high-school division.”
“You’re right. The high-school competition begins in two hours. You can wait in the stands or go out for a meal—just make sure you’re back on time.”
“Understood. By the way, which seat number is it?”
At Teacher Jeong’s question, the registrar fell silent while consulting the handwritten seating chart he was still filling out. He seemed to be debating where to place them. Yoo Jae-won was in luck. Had the man been from the Ministry of Education, he might have stuck them in any empty spot. But he was from the Ministry of Posts and Telecommunications, and he had a vested interest in producing visible results at this competition. A twelve-year-old elementary student competing in the high-school division made for an excellent photo opportunity. Regardless of the outcome, seating him at a good computer in the front row would create a favorable impression for his superiors.
“Ah, yes. Seat eight.”
The staff member wrote “8” on the ticket as well. Yoo Jae-won and Teacher Jeong both clenched their fists in triumph.
Time passed quickly. The basic competition unfolded exactly as expected—rather dull. Quite a few children failed to finish typing the assigned text within the allotted time, and even among those who completed it, typographical errors were everywhere. The officials seated at the judges’ table gradually grew more grim-faced. The level of computer literacy among the students had improved far less than expected. In fact, it had actually declined compared to the previous year. This was a serious issue. If things continued like this, the enormous budget allocated to the national computer distribution project could very well be taken away by the Ministry of Education.
—High-school division participants, please take your assigned seats and prepare. The competition will begin in twenty minutes.
While the announcement played, the seating area was being organized. Teacher Jeong turned to Yoo Jae-won.
“You brought your ticket, right? Go on, then.”
“Yes! I’ll make sure to earn enough for jajangmyeon.”
The teacher and student pair had rather large appetites. Instead of waiting quietly in the stands like the other high-school competitors, they had gone outside for jajangmyeon and sweet-and-sour pork before returning. With his stomach comfortably full, Yoo Jae-won walked toward seat number eight with confident strides.