Chapter 21
Chapter 21
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 21
Chapter Title: The Prodigy's Shadow
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“Ji-hoon, don't be nervous. Take your time.”
The young Sung Ji-hoon sat in the examination room chair and picked up the test paper.
One page, then another—he flipped through them with a calm expression.
Watching this, the doctor whispered quietly to his parents.
“Most kids get really tense in this setting, but Ji-hoon here is remarkably composed.”
The mother beamed with pride at the doctor's words.
“Yes, sometimes I feel like our boy is just too smart for his own good. As a parent, it's actually a bit worrying. Just the other day...”
“Ahem...”
Parents these days...
The doctor clicked his tongue inwardly.
But seeing the boy with his lips pressed tight, focused entirely on the test paper, he had to admit the kid seemed anything but ordinary.
Thirty minutes later, Ji-hoon set down his pencil.
“I'm done.”
The examiner checked the clock with a startled look.
“Already? These usually take over an hour.”
Ji-hoon shrugged nonchalantly.
A few days later, the couple returned to the hospital with their child to hear the results.
The doctor peered at the chart and let out a sigh of admiration.
“Ji-hoon has an exceptionally high IQ.”
The parents, who had been sitting there tensely, broke into broad smiles.
“We knew it! How high exactly?”
“IQ is a relative measure with an average of 100. The normal range is 85 to 115, covering about 68% of the population.”
“And our boy...?”
“155. That's the top 0.01%. In simple terms, one in ten thousand.”
“Really?”
Ji-hoon's mother covered her mouth in shock.
“Generally, 130 and above is considered gifted, and 145 or higher is genius level. Ji-hoon scored much higher than that.”
The doctor went on at length about what such a high IQ meant and the precautions to take, but none of it registered with the parents. All that mattered was that their child was a genius among geniuses.
Even at a young age, life was a joy for Ji-hoon.
Wherever he went, he was loved. Whatever he did, he excelled.
Tall stature and handsome features to boot.
Life on Easy Mode.
That was the nickname his friends gave him, dripping with envy.
In those days, it felt like there was nothing in the world he couldn't achieve if he set his mind to it. That's when he met her.
“What? I came in second?”
A year after entering the gifted academy,
he experienced second place for the first time in his life.
But the shock wasn't as great as he'd expected.
Of course. One in ten thousand.
Dozens of kids like me must be born every year.
If they had equal talent, the one who worked harder would naturally win.
But...
Are we really equals? I barely studied, unlike you.
The top scorer was the embodiment of effort itself—far beyond what he could match.
Still, the score gap wasn't huge, so Ji-hoon felt at ease.
He believed he could beat Im Soo-jung anytime he wanted, if he really tried.
“Hey! Sung Ji-hoon! First place again?”
His middle school friends crowded around him in the classroom.
“You were gaming with me the whole exam period! How are you top again?”
“Yeah, I just winged it.”
Ji-hoon grinned sheepishly.
Putting in your all wasn't cool.
Beating someone who thrashed desperately with minimal effort, watching them crumble—that was the thrill.
It was the privilege of those blessed with superior brains.
But in the Mathematical Olympiad among the gifted, his old ways didn't work.
Watching Im Soo-jung surpass him and snag a spot on the Korean team was anything but enjoyable.
Another year passed. After putting in honest effort he wouldn't be ashamed of, he'd made it here.
But...
“Hee hee hee!”
Seo-ha was placing duck figurines on the windowsill by his bed.
One,
two,
three.
Ducks with different expressions.
Propping his chin, he gazed at them happily, occasionally letting out inexplicable giggles.
To think I lost to a little kid like this and got picked...
When the kid solved a problem mentally, everyone—including Ji-hoon—had been thrown into turmoil.
No, not Im Soo-jung?
Soon after, she was the second to get the answer.
The rest were a mess.
They'd fumbled and wasted time.
Self-loathing washed over him.
But it was fine. He'd only been trying for a year now.
Like always, he could surpass this kid. Then today's humiliation would fade to a mere memory.
As Ji-hoon steeled his resolve, Seo-ha hopped down from the bed and rummaged in his bag. He pulled something out and approached.
“Um, want one?”
A glossy orange dried persimmon.
Ji-hoon stared at Seo-ha in disbelief.
“What's this, dried persimmon?”
“My parents picked and dried them ourselves. They packed some for me to share in the dorm.”
Seo-ha's face lit up with pride, as if offering something precious.
He hadn't made that face even after solving the problem first.
“Uh... yeah! Thanks.”
Ji-hoon awkwardly smiled and took one.
It was softer and moister than expected. One bite filled his mouth with sweetness.
“This is good.”
“Right? I love these. Mom's made them for me since I was a baby.”
Seo-ha crunched into one, beaming happily.
We're rivals for the team spot, but no guard up? Whatever, none of my business.
Ji-hoon set up his desk.
His suitcase was packed tight with past problem books—the ones he had to tackle seriously starting today.
Get your head in the game.
Ji-hoon resolved to give his absolute best during winter school.
The schedule here was straightforward.
Wake at dawn for light gymnastics, then group breakfast.
Two hours of morning lectures, lunch, afternoon problem-solving sessions. Dinner, then personal study.
No one got proper sleep; faces were gaunt.
Everyone except one.
Scratch, scratch.
Ji-hoon, solving problems in their room as usual, glanced sideways at Seo-ha.
What book is that?
Like the others, Seo-ha kept a book in hand even in the room.
But he definitely wasn't doing past problems.
Sometimes smiling, sometimes frowning, he scribbled equations in a campus notebook.
Looked like tough problems, but pages colored vibrantly with crayons? No way those were exam sheets.
Yet in class, he knew everything. Shone in problem sessions. Every professor adored him. No one showed it openly, but Ji-hoon was hypersensitive to it.
It was the exact look teachers had given him since childhood.
Seo-ha closed his notebook and pulled out another book.
This time, Ji-hoon caught the title clearly.
[Niels Henrik Abel: A Biography]
Reading great men's lives?
Was this taunting?
Ji-hoon felt confused.
He recalled staying up gaming with friends yet never losing top spot.
Anger surged.
I'm not someone you get to treat like that.
But speaking up would just make him look petty.
Sensing his discomfort, Seo-ha glanced up, then rummaged in his bag again.
“Want some peanuts? We grew them in our garden. Mom roasted them for study snacks.”
His small hands overflowed with fat peanuts. His face radiated pure goodwill.
Having pulled deceptions himself before, Ji-hoon knew it was genuine. Still, time for a test.
“Seo-ha, can you explain this? I don't get it.”
Ji-hoon took the peanuts and opened his notebook.
The problem that had stumped him all evening.
Seo-ha glanced at it, picked up a pencil, and started writing equations on blank paper.
“This one's easy if you use symmetry.”
Scratch, scratch.
As Seo-ha's pencil moved, the seemingly complex problem simplified, unraveling like a knotted thread.
“Here, substitution makes it... like this.”
Ji-hoon watched in awe as his hand flew.
A problem he'd wrestled with for over three hours solved in seconds.
And without a hint of superiority.
A strange mix of emotions swept over Ji-hoon: jealousy tangled with awe.
“Seo-ha.”
“Yeah?”
“Don't you see us as competitors?”
What was this kid thinking? He couldn't fathom it, no matter how hard he tried.
Seo-ha tilted his head, genuinely puzzled.
“Does beating someone in a contest teach you things you don't know?”
“...What?”
“I have so much I want to know. Tons of proofs unsolved. I'd do anything for that, but...”
A mindset utterly alien to how Ji-hoon had lived.
Through the mirror of Yoo Seo-ha, Ji-hoon glimpsed the true self he'd buried deep.
Cowardice hiding behind talent as a shield.
Laziness comforted by relative superiority.
Deep down, he wanted to strive.
He'd just feared the challenge.
He'd come to winter school vowing his best, but Ji-hoon knew the truth.
He'd kept one foot out the door, ready to flee.
Because this wasn't his whole life.
Am I really special?
Compared to the kid before him?
Ji-hoon straightened up.
No matter how pathetic he was, just once—one time—he'd go all out.
That's what he decided.
He could always pull back later.
A week into winter school.
Professors' lounge.
Snow-covered campus visible through the window.
“What do you think of this year's kids?”
Kim Ji-yoon set down her cup and asked Professor Park Cheol-min.
She'd been dropping by often to observe the winter school.
“Better than expected. A few really stand out. Soo-jung's as solid as ever, but even better than last year.”
The prized prospect had grown as hoped; Park couldn't hide his delight.
“She's so diligent, despite her looks.”
“Honestly, IMO looks promising this year.”
Gold might be a stretch, but silver or bronze? Possible.
“But you're skipping the big news?”
“Huh?”
“Come on, you know—Yoo Seo-ha.”
Park's eyes widened in surprise.
“Word's out already? How do you even know Seo-ha?”
“I have my ways.”
“Truth is, I'm being cautious. Korea's never properly nurtured a genius.”
China and Japan aside, even Vietnam had a Fields Medalist. Korean math? Zero.
“I disagree. Geniuses bloom no matter the circumstances.
Abel achieved greatness with no bread for today and tuberculosis killing him.
If we can't raise them, maybe they weren't that talented to begin with.”
“I think so too. Just scared of getting hopes up and crashing.”
“I guarantee, Seo-ha's on another level. Gave him algebraic geometry problems—the toughest field out there—and he breezed through. His mathematical intuition on numbers is just...”
Everything else could be trained to a point, but mathematical intuition? Pure talent.
Ji-yoon had seen it in Seo-ha.
“I know. Caught a sign error in my notes without even attending class properly. One less worry for this year.”
“The IMO?”
“Yeah. Even if the team's not top, individual gold has symbolic weight.”
“That's a lock, no doubt.”
The two professors couldn't imagine anyone at high school level outshining Seo-ha mathematically.