The Award's Ripple
The day that had begun with the morning assembly on the goblin computer. Upon returning to the classroom, homeroom teacher Kim Kyeong-pil launched into yet another lengthy speech. It was likely the first time he had praised a student without receiving a bribe. The Minister's Award carried that much weight.
Even on the way home, there was more to come. A congratulatory banner hung at the entrance to Naeo Village. It had not been there on the way to school, yet there it was, proudly displayed on the way back. The words "Naeo Village Residents" at the bottom made it clear this was the work of his uncle, Yoo Bong-cheol.
When Yoo Jae-won arrived home, both his parents were there. His father had been sent home early from work, and his mother had taken the day off entirely. They were just about to carry out the rice they had prepared when he walked in. They really were planning to distribute rice cakes; it had not been an empty promise.
When he presented the scholarship money he had received at school, they were overjoyed. Yet they took only the envelope and returned the cash inside to him, telling him to use it as pocket money. These were the same parents who used to collect his New Year's money and return it when he went to university. The amount was thirty thousand won. Considering his father's monthly salary was in the three-hundred-thousand-won range, it was an enormous sum. Even for Yoo Jae-won, who had already saved ten million won from selling songs, thirty thousand won in cash was significant. If word got out that he had withdrawn that much from the post office, the news would spread through the village far faster than any rumor his parents might start. In this era, the concept of protecting customers' personal information was virtually nonexistent. Even if the people managing the accounts of high-ranking officials might be different, a ten-million-won balance in a rural elementary school student's passbook would cause an uproar, with everyone assuming it was a mistake.
Still, the value of money in a bankbook and cash in hand was clearly different. Moreover, this was an age when two hundred won could buy a full day of fun. His parents were so excited that they handed over such a large amount as pocket money without hesitation.
The school, and indeed the entire village, was in an uproar. Yoo Jae-won thought the impact of winning the competition was sufficient at this level. But his prediction was thoroughly shattered. The fuss of this era far exceeded anything he had imagined.
The next day.
"Huh? What's this?"
"This is you and Teacher Jeong Hyeon-ung, right?" Ryu Su-gyeong asked, holding out a newspaper.
When he looked, there they were—him and Teacher Jeong Hyeon-ung standing side by side, receiving an award plaque from Department Head Kim Won-jung of the Ministry of Communications. It was not on the front page, but it was no small article either. It had made the society section, a full three-column piece complete with a photograph. The preparation was obvious.
"What?"
The article itself was something else. The opening briefly covered the third Computer Skills Competition. Then, in the very next paragraph, Yoo Jae-won appeared. A fifth-grade elementary student entering a high school-level competition meant for middle and high schoolers was surprising enough, but the piece went on to describe how he had demonstrated extraordinary talent. Using a high-level programming language that only experts could handle, he had instantly created a typing practice program that made it easy for computer beginners to learn the keyboard, astonishing everyone involved. The reporter had apparently mistaken "high-level" for "difficult and advanced," when in reality BASIC was simply a programming language designed to be human-readable. Experts who had reviewed the code had declared it the work of a genius. The article mentioned that sponsor Sambo Computer was taking notice, and that the Ministry of Communications was even considering supplying computers to school computer labs. It concluded by crediting the Ministry's educational computer distribution project for making a young computer genius like Yoo Jae-won possible, urging them to work harder so that more geniuses could flourish.
"Ah."
The ending of an article was always the most important part. That was where the real message lay. This piece was using him to promote the Ministry's educational computer distribution project. Yet something kept bothering him as he read. It was Ryu Su-gyeong. She was staring down at him while he read the article she had brought.
"You can keep it."
She was giving him the newspaper outright.
"You brought it for me?"
"Huh? No. It's just weird seeing a friend in the paper. I don't need it, so you take it."
It looked like she had swiped her father's newspaper. He was not sure that was allowed, but he wanted it. His family did not subscribe to a newspaper. If his plans succeeded from here on, articles like this would appear often. Keeping clippings would be useful for later.
"It does seem like something worth remembering. Thanks for bringing it."
"Hehe, really? I think I'm going to buy a computer too. Will you teach me?"
The real reason came out at the end. It had not been mere curiosity; there was an ulterior motive.
"You're buying it because your mom wants one, right?"
He answered ulterior motive with ulterior motive.
"Of course! We're classmates, after all."
"Got it. It's not a difficult request anyway."
Just as Ryu Su-gyeong had not hesitated, Yoo Jae-won nodded easily. Teaching a complete beginner how to use a computer was no trouble at all. He could simply hand her the typing practice program he had shown at the competition and tell her to pound the keyboard.
As time passed, the ripple effect surrounding computer genius Yoo Jae-won only grew. At home, in the neighborhood, and even at school, he was officially recognized as a computer prodigy. The school granted him a special privilege: the key to the computer room. After school, he could use the school's computers freely. For Yoo Jae-won, who had a far better computer at home, it was a privilege that existed only for show.
—Yoo Jae-won, please come to the principal's office.
The announcement came over the speakers along with the lunch bell.
"Whoa, Jae-won, they won't even let you eat in peace?" Jumin muttered, glancing at the speaker as they were about to open their lunchboxes. He seemed to feel sorry for how often Jae-won was being called away.
"Tell me about it. At this rate, even if I get a presidential award later, two bodies won't be enough."
"Hah. Presidential award? Is the president your friend or something? You think they just hand those out?"
"You never know. Anyway, I'll be back."
Yoo Jae-won tucked his lunchbox back into his bag, wiped his mouth, and stood up.
"Haven't seen that car before."
On the way to the principal's office, he noticed an unfamiliar car parked in the lot. The only teachers who drove cars at this rural school were the principal, the vice principal, and a few others, and they all drove old used models. Even the Pony, the first domestically produced car using purely Korean technology, was present, and the principal himself drove a Pony 2. The parking arrangement—closest spots to the classrooms reserved by seniority, with the principal's space at the very front—was as familiar as a still life. But today, at the far end, sat a car he had never seen before. It was a Royal Prince from Daeho Motors, a midsize sedan rarely seen in the countryside. Most tellingly, it had a Seoul license plate.
Convinced that the car and his summons to the principal's office were connected, Yoo Jae-won detoured briefly into the parking lot, examined the vehicle closely, then smiled faintly and headed for the office.
Knock, knock, knock.
After rapping on the door, he entered at the invitation and immediately offered a greeting upon seeing the principal's face. The principal was an odd man whose personality blended arrogance with timidity. Normally, he was someone Yoo Jae-won rarely even saw. But ever since Jae-won had received the Minister's Award, the man had done a complete one-eighty, showering him with favors. Even Yoo Jae-won, who had not expected the school to provide a scholarship, treated the principal with the utmost respect.
The principal, in turn, regarded Yoo Jae-won with approval. Here was a boy whose composure and manners far exceeded those of his peers. From the principal's perspective, Jae-won was a sudden windfall. With retirement looming, what mattered most now was spreading the school's name far and wide. He had tried everything over the years, but results had been meager. He had learned that elevating the school's reputation required not only the teachers' efforts but also the students' achievements. If even one Deokjin Elementary graduate had become a minister, vice minister, or judge, things might have been different—but not a single one had. Then, out of nowhere, Yoo Jae-won, a student the principal had barely noticed, had emerged. The competition had been nothing more than a routine entry to add a single line to the school's monotonous records. Yet he had returned with a Minister's Award. Newspaper articles had appeared in nearly every daily, and naturally, the name of Deokjin Elementary had spread nationwide.
And that was not all. Someone from Seoul connected to the competition had come down in person.
"Greet him. This is Vice President Lee Yong-kwon from Sambo Computer."
"Hello. I'm Yoo Jae-won, from Class 5-5, fifth grade at Deokjin Elementary."
Yoo Jae-won bowed deeply as the principal introduced him.
"Indeed. Looking at that confident bearing, you certainly live up to being the grand prize winner."
Lee Yong-kwon, who appeared about ten years younger than the principal, nodded as he accepted the greeting. Though Yoo Jae-won now knew the visitor's identity, he felt no surprise. He had already spotted the Sambo Computer logo on documents and business cards inside the gleaming Royal Prince parked outside.
